Red Hot Reunion - Bella Andre Page 0,64
gold frame clattered to the floor.
“Sell my house?” She barely left off the words,Are you crazy?
Jason’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I thought that’s what we’d agreed on.”
“We did. I mean, I’m going to move in with you, but I hadn’t though about—”
“What do you need the house for? You’re not planning on coming back here, so…”
A warning bell went off in the back of her mind. It wasn’t like Jason to be so pushy. But as he waited silently, letting the implications of his unsaid words sink in, she realized that if she didn’t sell her house, it would be akin to telling him she didn’t have faith in their relationship. That she wanted a back up plan just in case things went wrong.
But nothing was going to go wrong this time, she was sure of it. Or almost sure of it, anyway.
Angry with herself for not having the guts, the faith, and certainly not anywhere near the kind of self-esteem she needed to be certain of Jason’s love for her, Emma forced a smile.
“Of course, you’re right. I guess things have been moving so fast that I haven’t been thinking of all the details.”
“You work with lots of real estate agents in your line of work, don’t you?”
She nodded. “Yes, I do.”
“Why don’t you call one now, get the ball rolling? I’ll bet a place like this gets snapped up pretty fast in Palo Alto.”
Numbly, she pulled out her cell phone. He was right, of course he was. No time like the present to close out the rest of her past, a past she wanted nothing to do with anymore.
Eighteen
Jason almost felt bad about what he was making Emma do. Almost, but not quite. Because even though he was taking away her potential refuge, this house was bad for her.
It reeked of submission and sadness and he couldn’t stand the idea of Emma going back to this house after he dumped her ass. Yes, he wanted to hurt her, just like she’d hurt him. But then, when enough time had passed, he actually found himself hoping that she’d find the guts to create a good life for herself.
One that she really wanted to live. Not one that some decorator hired by her status-obsessed mother had put together for her.
The painting he’d just loaded into his car spoke volumes about the real Emma. Too bad he’d never be able to trust that girl. Too much had come between them, too many lies, too much pride.
When he walked back inside the house she was throwing clothes into a huge beige heap in the middle of her enormous walk-in closet.
“Nice packing technique.”
“I’m not packing.”
He raised an eyebrow and surveyed the growing heap. “Then what, exactly, are you doing?”
A smile played on her lips as she emptied an entire wing of the closet onto the floor. “I’m giving everything away to charity.”
“That’s too bad,” he said, grinning. “Some poor unsuspecting lady might accidentally buy these clothes.
And wear them.” He faked a shiver of fright.
Hands on her hips, she said, “What’s your brilliant suggestion?”
“We could burn them.”
She looked disbelieving for a moment and then laughed. “It’s not a bad idea, but unfortunately there’s plenty of wear in most of this stuff.”
Jason picked up a truly boring khaki dress that he was certain would have washed Emma’s pale features away entirely. “Calvin Klein. And it’s still got the tags on.”
Her face crumbled. “Isn’t that horrible? I was so depressed with my life that I shopped to fill the void.”
She didn’t seem to expect any reply. “Which obviously didn’t work because I was just buying more of the same awful stuff.”
Jason hated that he felt sorry for her and realized he had two choices. Either say something he was going to regret later, like “Don’t feel bad, everyone makes mistakes.” Or pick up an armful of clothes and take them out to the car.
He chose option two. “I’ll load the car up and do a drop-off at the donation center on University Avenue.”
Any excuse to get out of this prison Emma had called home. Steven’s uptight, smug vibes fairly radiated off the walls.
Shit, while he was at it, once he dropped the clothes off, maybe he’d stop by a bar for a quick drink. He needed something to make it through the rest of the day.
Jason hadn’t spent a lot of time near the Stanford campus since he’d graduated. He’d been perfectly happy to carve out a new life in the wine country, which seemed so