Chapter Two

He let out a low whistle when he saw the foyer of her home. "I need my sunglasses more on the inside of your house than outside."

"I know, right? My mom helped draw up the plans with her architect. She wanted every room to take advantage of the natural sunlight." As she led him toward the back parlor, Emma gestured into the rooms, each with floor-to-ceiling windows lining every wall. "The architect originally told her it couldn't be done, but she proved him wrong. Now he's famous for this design."

"Does it bother your mom that he's taking credit for her genius?"

"Meh." Emma shrugged. "Let him have her old idea. She's moved on, and besides, it's not like she wants to be an architect. Although if she did, he'd have to watch out." Emma's dimples tucked into her cheeks. "She'd put him out of business. My mom can do anything."

"Reminds me of someone else."

Emma tripped over her sandals but soon righted herself. She didn't bother to correct him. Oh, she wanted to be like her mother. She tried to be like her mother. But she was nothing like her mother—at least not yet. As perfect as Emma Greene might seem, she had much, much more to accomplish to be anything close to the legend of Gail Greene. Even the president of the United States was quoted as having said, If God had made more than one Gail Greene, he wouldn't have had to make anyone else.

"Emma, watch out—"

Knight grabbed her by the waist and pulled her toward him. She realized she'd been so taken aback by what he'd said that she'd almost walked into a display of crystal figurines her mother had placed in the middle of the hall.

"Sorry about that." She shook herself back to her senses. He released her slowly, and she was sore where his fingers had pressed into her hips.

"Sure you're okay?" he asked. "You seem out of it."

"I told you, Knight. Dazzling." Emma waved her hand dismissively. "We don't have much time."

"Time for what?"

"Come on, the back parlor is through here." She pulled him into the parlor room where her mother had lined the walls with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, each in pale Lucite that also reflected the sun. A projector screen was built into the ceiling and with a click of a button, they could order cinema-release movies.

Emma had pictured a romantic scene taking place here between her two classmates.

The girl: Anne Escobar. Anne had lost the love of her childhood boyfriend, Rick Wright, who she had dumped when he'd left town to go to military school. Unfortunately, his return was making her more miserable than ever. Hence the need for…

The guy: Josh Wickham. The Academy's resident movie star had managed to alienate Emma and her friends…until he'd fallen in love and had his own heart broken. Everyone loved a reformed bad boy and that made him the perfect pick for Anne.

Emma had high hopes for this weekend that would culminate in Anne and Josh in this very room. They would share a bowl of popcorn, order one of his movies, and cozy up together. Emma nearly sighed with the romance of it. "I need that chaise in the corner by the window."

The sleeve of Knight's brown leather jacket crinkled at the elbows as he hung his hands on his hips. "A furniture emergency. That's a new one."

"Trust me, this is important." It was the pinnacle, the climax, of her goals.

"I broke every speed limit driving down here."

"I'm glad to see you're in one piece."

"Emma—"

"I'll explain in a bit," she promised. "Once everyone arrives. I need this little, teensy-weensy—" she touched her two fingers together in front of her right eye "—itty-bitty favor first."

Knight opened his mouth but seemed to think better of protesting and blew out a long, frustrated breath. He shrugged off his jacket, which he draped over a nearby loveseat, and then stomped over to the chaise. In one smooth motion, he hoisted it over the back of his broad shoulders so his soft, heather-gray T-shirt stretched the breadth of his chest.

"Just over there." She pointed to the corner.

He threw a dark look over his shoulder. "Who would sit in this dark corner by themselves?"

Gregory Knight might be a senior to her junior, and might be taller and stronger than she was, but Emma Greene knew she was infinitely smarter, at least when it came to matchmaking. "Don't worry your pretty head about it, Knight."

She had every intention of ensuring Anne found herself nuzzled in the corner with Josh, and Emma needed the ambiance to be perfect for the propitious couple when it happened. With a romantic movie and the view of the churning Pacific Ocean blazing orange against a warmly drenched sunset, how could they resist each other?

"Please?" she added with a few bats of her eyelashes.

Knight pivoted toward the corner and carried the chaise until he reached the round picture window nook. He flipped the chaise over and onto its curlicue hand-carved legs, which hit the floor with a thud. Using his knee, he pushed the chaise up to the window with a low grunt.

"There. Satisfied?"

"Not quite." Emma tilted her head toward the lush potted fern whose feather fronds would be the perfect cover for the inevitable couple. "Beside the chaise, please."

Instead of picking up the pot, Knight stalked straight to Emma, wrapped his arms around her waist, and hefted her against him. She let out a quick, if embarrassed, squeal. She supposed she could have beat against his chest or demanded to be let down, because he would, indeed, set her down if she asked. But for the moment she admitted there was something rather pleasant about being held by Knight.

Which wasn't surprising. He was quite the catch. He was more than smart—he was clever. He looked great in a suit, even better in jeans. He had quite possibly the warmest brown eyes in the entire Academy. He smelled amazing with that light, spicy cologne he always wore. Knight could be boyfriend material…if he weren't so bossy, so contrary, so intent on questioning her all the time and doubting her every move, on changing her.

She had dragged Knight kicking and screaming on several missions of a hijinksish nature, and she liked to think she knew what made Knight tick. Right now, he was in the midst of making a point and he wouldn’t stop until it had been made. Instead of protesting, she clung to his shoulders and went along for the ride.

Her short, bare legs dangled against the rough denim of his jeans as he crossed the room and set her down in a rather ungraceful lump on the chaise. Then he sat next to her. Without a word, he raised a brow then gestured toward the rest of the room in an obvious question: why am I wasting my time putting furniture all the way over here?

He was right, of course. The arrangement was bizarre. Why perch tightly on a small chaise when you could lounge comfortably on the sizable couch. A couch that you could sit on without being forced to snuggle against another warm, welcoming body.

But she knew what would happen if she told Knight her plan to set up Anne Escobar and Josh Wickham. He'd try to talk her out of it. He would tell her it was a bad idea. He would tell her she was meddling. So Emma did what she did best. She tilted her head, batted her eyelashes, and drew her finger along Knight's cheek. "Be a dear."

She'd heard her mother say it to her father time and time again, and it always seemed to work. Here was no different. Knight's eyes darkened, his throat tightening as he swallowed. Then Knight hauled himself to a stand and went after the fern.

Emma smoothed back her blond curls. She now lamented that she hadn't tied them into a bun for the day's activities. She fanned herself as she got to her feet. It was much too warm. Moving furniture was practically exercise, even if one was just doing the pointing and directing.

She opened the picture window for air and noticed two town cars winding up the drive at a far more reasonable speed than Knight had employed. "Two cars? This is a disaster." She had explicitly asked that her couple-to-be arrive in one car so they would have to speak to each other during the drive. Anne was awkwardly shy around the male sex and would have to be trapped into interacting with Josh. Emma had no particular quarrel with this tactic, but she needed people to follow her instructions so it actually transpired.

Knight stood by her side, having set down the fern. "What's wrong with two cars? Should there be more of them?"

"No. Fewer."

"Fewer? But I thought you 9-1-1'd everyone."

"I texted everyone but not everyone could come. Ellie and Edward are visiting her new baby sister in Guatemala. Lizzie is in New York doing press to save the Academy. Dante is taking his sister to visit colleges. Fanny has track meets, of course. Tran is with his mother on tour with that band…you know the one? And Kat and Henry have auditions." She gave a helpless shrug, her palms faceup. "Only Anne and Josh were able to make it. I just wish they'd taken the same car. For the environment. It's so important to leave this world better than it was when we came into it."

"Emma." His voice was strangled.

"What?" She batted her lashes again. "It's all so beyond my control."

"Hmmm. I thought there was nothing beyond your control."

She could barely hold in her grin.

"You're up to something. This has the distinct smell of a Greene Scheme."

"The smell of victory, you mean?"

"Emma, for once, can you not have a crazy agenda?"

"I resent that. I don't have an agenda. Look at me." She threw her hands in the air. "Relaxed. Cool. Collected. Not a care in the world. Like usual. I bet you can't name more than three times when I've had an agenda."

He counted them off on his fingers. "Breaking into the headmistress's cottage. Trying to steal the show at the Halloween ball. Handcuffing yourself to a tree. Hijacking the school pl—"

Emma gasped with an indignant hand at her throat. "Those don't count. Most of those were in the service of love."

"Oh really? Love?" Knight snorted. He did not roll his eyes. No, Knight never rolled his eyes. He always pinned her with those deceivingly warm baby browns. Straight on and dead center.

Most boys couldn't look her in the eye. She knew why. She was beautiful; looking at her made them flustered. Breathless. Out of sorts. But not Knight. No. Knight could stare into her eyes for hours with nothing more than sardonic raise of his brow.

"What do you have against love, Knight?"

"Nothing. But your antics had nothing to do with love, Emma. You wanted attention."

She could just knock him on the side of the head. Didn't he know her by now? "None of those schemes were about me. You know the Halloween ball was about Ellie. So was the headmistress's cottage. If it weren't for my meddling, she wouldn't even be at the Academy anymore. Ellie and Edward wouldn't be together. And neither would Lizzie and Dante."

"You're taking credit for Lizzie and Dante? Who else have you matched up? Kat and Henry, too?"

"Everyone knows I'm at least partially responsible for Kat and Henry."

"Which would be a Christmas miracle considering they hooked up during Christmas break…away from the Academy and away from you. What about Prince William and Kate?"

She stubbornly set her jaw. "Willy and Kate are dear friends of the family."

"Emma," he said warningly. "Don't even try."

"Don't underestimate my skills, Knight."

"Oh, I don't, Emma. You're the one who keeps overestimating herself."

Emma recoiled at the sting of his statement. Fine. So Emma was her own press. She knew that. She felt she had to remind people how much she'd accomplished because otherwise they might not realize. It might go right over their heads. With her mom, for example. Sometimes her mom was so busy being a one-woman philanthropic wonder that she didn't always recognize all that Emma accomplished. Her mother loved her, of course, and always made sure she had everything she needed, but sometimes she was so busy giving Emma everything that she didn't notice when Emma fended for herself.

What was wrong with being proud of what she'd done? What was wrong with giving herself credit where credit was due?

Most of all, why didn't Knight understand? She bit her lip as she felt it trembling.

"Emma?" Knight's voice dropped, and he made a motion like he was going to comfort her or put his arm around her shoulder.

She turned swiftly to look back out the window. "They're almost here." The town cars pulled into the circular driveway and rolled to a stop. The rear door opened, and Josh Wickham popped out. His ebony locks and intense blue eyes made him an achingly beautiful figure, even from all the way inside the house.

Her stomach roiled at the sight of him.

This wouldn't be her first matchmaking attempt with Josh. She'd tried to match him once before—to herself. She was a little bitter that Josh hadn't fallen for her. Not that she had been particularly in love with him. It was the principle of the thing. When Emma had been with Josh, she'd felt carefree and reckless. She'd played out endless fantasies of them together. Walking the red carpet. Attending charity events. She could just imagine the kind of press she could bring to her mom's most favored causes with arm candy like him.

But they had been just that—fantasies—without any real sense of Josh as a person. They would have made such a beautiful couple but a terrible pair. Anyhow, why worry over Josh when there were so many more interesting things to concern herself with, like Anne. Or the curtains—was that a line of dust at the hem? Oh, and now she just remembered that some of the salads she'd ordered had nuts. Did Anne eat nuts? Could she possibly be allergic? There was just so much to think about, starting first and foremost with her guests.

And oh, Emma saw her now. There was Anne getting out of the backseat after Josh. She looked effortlessly chic in her yellow sundress with boatneck collar. Anne's thick, dark-brown hair was set with a matching yellow headband, very prep and polished. She managed to scoot out of the town car without creasing her skirt.

Why didn't Josh turn around and offer Anne a hand? Emma pursed her lips. Josh was inherently self-absorbed. The key to setting him up with Anne was showing him that being with Anne was in his best interest. That she had as much to offer him as some starlet who could help his career.

Granted, Anne had fallen off the pedestal lately.

Anne Escobar had once been as blessed as Emma. She was striking, quietly mysterious, and her parents had once been rich off railroad money they'd used to start the Jane Austen Academy. Then, they'd lost it all. Their money, their homes, and the Academy—the latter sold to new owners who had made the school coed. In addition to suffering the indignity of having her school, her legacy, sold out from beneath her, Anne was now forced to attend classes with the very boy she had broken up with but still loved—Rick Wright—who had the indecency to return richer, hotter, and cooler than ever. The nerve. He was practically impossible to get over, but Emma wasn't one to shirk in the face of the impossible.

Anne still had her looks, still had her class, and still had her friends—Emma included.

Anne would be a catch for anyone, even Josh.

If he couldn't see that after a few hours drive with her…

But that begged the question: if Anne and Josh had driven up in the same town car, then who was in the one behind them? She hadn't invited anyone else. Her parents had made it clear they wouldn't be on the west coast because they had charity events to attend in New York. Who else could possibly—

The back door of the second town car opened. A tall figure emerged. Dark hair. Lean back. Perfect military posture. The figure turned, and she recognized the green eyes that rivaled hers for mossiest eye color at the Academy.

Rick Wright—the very reason for Anne's misery and the very last person Emma wanted to see.

"Oh yeah," Knight said besides her. "Forgot to tell you. I told Rick about your 9-1-1 emergency text, so he came down, too. Ow, ow, ow!" Knight threw his arms up in defense as Emma punched his shoulder, no small feat given it was a foot above her head. "What gives, Emma?"

"What is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong is I'm getting beaten up by a girl." Knight rubbed his shoulder.

Emma spun around and hustled out of the living room, her flip-flops slapping wildly against the tile. She twisted her long hair into a sleek updo, which she secured with the bobby pins she kept tucked in her bra. She looked over her shoulder to glare at Knight, who didn't even have the common decency to look contrite.

Instead, he cocked his head and grinned. "I never get over how quickly you can make yourself over."

She stopped to refresh a lily bouquet, sprucing up the petals. "I cannot be swayed by compliments. How could you invite Rick knowing full well about him and Anne?"

"Uh…what about him and Anne?"

Emma rolled her eyes. He must know. Everyone knew about Anne and Rick, didn't they? "What gives you the right to invite someone to my home anyway?"

"I thought it was an emergency. Didn't you text everyone?"

"Well…not quite everyone." Really, she felt like a broken record sometimes. She headed farther down the hall, straightening an errant black-and-white photograph of the very beach down the bluffs from the house. "Like I said before…I knew most everyone else was unavailable. Having Rick in this house will ruin everything. Poor Anne."

"You're being melodramatic. Didn't Anne dump him anyway? Years ago? Back when dating was holding hands and sharing gum?"

She stopped in her tracks, her flip-flops squeaking. "Lost love always feels like yesterday, Knight. Especially to us."

His expression finally fell. "I'm sorry, Emma. But he's here now. How do you want me to fix it?"

"Keep Rick busy—and away from Anne." She reached the front foyer and flung open the doors. She smiled as she waved at her three classmates in the driveway. Her teeth gritted, she muttered under her breath so he wouldn't hear, "Because nothing is going to get in the way of my plans for Anne and Josh."

Emma's heart squeezed as she watched Anne mumble hello to Rick and take a keen interest in the tips of her soft-pink ballet flats. Rick wasn't helping matters by standing so close. His arm grazed her back as he leaned over her to say something to Josh, who laughed in response. Anne managed a weak smile, too.

Emma was sure she wasn't the only person who noticed that Rick had a habit of never looking directly at Anne. It was heartbreaking and callous. So what if Anne had broken up with him? It had been the sensible thing to do. He had been moving halfway across the country. Plus, they had been thirteen at the time or some other some such nonsense. How could he continue to punish her for it by ignoring her?

Why were men so obtuse? So seemingly…clueless.

Emma waved as she approached them in the driveway. "Hi, guys, hi. Yes, hello. Thank you sooo much for coming everyone." Even if you weren't invited, she thought to herself. She pecked Josh quickly on the right cheek, did the same to Rick, although she mostly caught air. Then Emma pulled Anne into a tight hug. Anne's delicate arms squeezed Emma around the neck.

Emma whispered quickly in her ear. "I'm so sorry about Rick. I had no idea."

"What? Rick, who…? What are you talking about?" Anne pulled away, a furrow in her brow. She glanced up at Rick then back to Emma. She rested her palms on Emma's cheeks. "We're here for you, Emma. I've been so worried. You haven't answered my texts. Is everything okay? Ellie's ready to fly back from Guatemala if you want."

Oh crap. Yes, there was the matter of that 911 text. Who knew her friends would take it so seriously? "Everything's going to work out now that you guys are here."

Knight reached her side and gave her a critical look. "You did make it sound like life or death."

"I thought you were going to kill yourself getting here," Rick said. "I brought your wallet. You left it behind. I would have driven up with you, but you lost your mind when you got the text so—"

"Yeah, thanks," Knight interrupted as he accepted his wallet and shoved it in his back pocket.

Emma ducked her head through the passenger-side window of the front town car to speak to the driver. "Can you bring in their bags? Thank you!" She turned back to her guests and clasped her hands. "I'm going to take Anne inside to freshen up. You boys are in the pool house. Need directions?"

"What do you mean we're in the pool house?" Josh asked.

"For the weekend," Emma explained.

"The whole weekend?" Anne tilted her head. "Emma?"

"Don't worry about toiletries and clothes. I've had some brought it. Only the best for you guys."

Emma kept her bright, welcoming smile as her three guests exchanged confused glances. Emma was used to knowing things before anyone else, so it was no chore to wait for them to catch up.

Josh, it seemed, was the first. "Same old Emma," he said as he stretched his arm to rest it across Anne's shoulders. "Life or death, whatever. I would never turn down an invitation for southern California sun. Nothing like it, right, Anne?" He tilted his head toward the sky and closed his eyes.

"Um, I guess." Anne squinted at him a moment then glanced back at Emma. "So everything really is okay?"

"With you guys by my side, everything is going to be perfect," Emma assured her.

It was only then that Anne also let her head tilt up, and her pinched features were soothed away by the sun's rays.

Emma nearly clapped with giddiness despite Knight's continued suspicious glare. Anne and Josh were two peas in a sun-drenched pod. Everything was going to work out just as she'd imagined.

Maybe she wasn't top of her class or leading a charge to the White House or a future Olympian or budding actress like some of her friends. Maybe she wasn't a famous humanitarian like her mother. But she would have done something good and right in the world. There would be no disputing that.

 

* * *

 

Emma ushered Anne upstairs, although she could do little to stave her questions.

"Emma, what's going on? The girls are texting like crazy, asking what's up, too. What's the emergency? Is it your mom and dad?"

Emma brushed aside her concerns with, "I'll tell you all about it at dinner." Once upstairs, instead of veering right toward her bedroom, which spanned half the floor from the front to the back of the house, she pulled Anne to the left, toward the guest bedroom that also overlooked the pool. While it was smaller than the front bedroom, it was connected to Emma's bedroom by the outdoor balcony that conveniently wrapped around the entire back of the house. The balcony looked over the bluff to the Pacific Ocean and all the way down the coast. On a clear day, which was nearly every day, Emma could see all the way to Mexico. But the real point of putting Anne in this room, instead of one of the larger bedrooms on the first floor, was for the other view from the balcony: of the kidney-shaped pool below and the pool house where Emma was certain Josh intended to put in some suntanning time.

Details. Emma was always considering them.

Emma realized Anne had gone quiet as they entered the bedroom. Her friend's gaze traced the polished hardwood floor, the blue-and-white naval striped wallpaper with white trim wainscoting, the intricate ceiling molding.

"Do you hate it?" Emma asked. View be damned, she didn't want her friend to feel uncomfortable. "We have three bedrooms downstairs—"

"No, don't be nuts." Anne shook her hands. "It's beautiful here. It reminds me of my parents' beach house." She wrung her hands. "You remember we had a bonfire there?"

"S'mores on the beach. Of course I remember. I thought I was losing my roommate, and I didn't want the sun to come up. I remember thinking, if we just held on a little longer, if I just didn't fall asleep, that maybe we could make the night last forever." Emma giggled. "I wasn't even drunk! I just wanted it so much. We should go back, you know. Now that things are happier."

Anne's mouth twisted downward. "My mom sold it few weeks ago."

"Oh, Anne, I’m so—"

"We never went very much anyway." Anne smoothed her hands over the nautical bedspread.

Had Emma been speaking to another one of the girls she might have thrown her arms around her or told her everything would be okay, but as much as she liked Anne, as much as she considered Anne one of her best friends, there was still a distance between them. Between Anne and all of the other girls. Anne was there for them, she supported them, but she didn't seem open to the idea of them supporting her.

Anne smiled, crinkles at her brown eyes. "So it's just the five of us for the weekend?"

"I had no idea about Rick. I never would have invited him. You know that, don't you? It was Knight."

Anne shrugged and sat on the ivory tufted ottoman at the foot of the bed. "You need us. So we're here. It's okay, really."

Emma winced. It wasn't like she couldn't use her friends' help. She intended to put their presence to very good use. If only Anne would whine or complain a little, maybe Emma would be able to more readily absolve herself of guilt. But Anne was not the type to whine or complain, and the less she complained the more hopeless her situation probably was. Which made Emma feel even worse about deceiving her to get her down here—even if her end game would make Anne happy. "We don't even need Rick. I'll send him back to the Academy."

Now it was Anne who winced. "He's already here. It would be weird if you told him to go home."

"You're right. That would make it worse. They're shacking up in the pool house right outside that window, too. Is that too weird? I can move you to another bedroom." Emma gestured her toward the white-framed French doors leading to the balcony.

Anne stood and crossed over, stepping outside as a cool, ocean breeze tangled Emma's sundress and curls. They looked down to see the boys walking the pool perimeter. Knight and Rick playfully shoved each other. They weaved out of each other's grasps until Rick grabbed Knight around the waist and launched him at the water.

"Not with the shoes—" Emma rolled her eyes as Knight split the water with a splash.

Josh clapped as Knight resurfaced, spitting. Emma admired how his gray tee clung to his shoulders. Water ran in rivulets down his face. Despite the look of murder in his eyes, he was utterly and adorably harmless.

Knight apparently begged to differ. "You're a dead man, Rick."

"I'd like to see you try. Here, give it your best shot." Rick kicked off his shoes and dove in after Knight. When his head popped back out of the water, Knight seemed to reconsider trying to wrestle his larger friend. Knight might have a six-pack, but Rick, with his military school training, had abs—and fight skills—to spare. Knight paddled backward.

Josh reached his hand out to Rick from the edge of the pool to help him up. "Know when to quit."

Rick reached up and yanked Josh into the pool. He went in swearing the whole way with an ungraceful belly flop. When he surfaced, he met Knight's eyes. "Rick isn't strong enough against both of us."

"Give it a try," Rick said.

Emma watched the scene with growing interest. While she was well aware of Josh's playful nature and Knight's own proclivity toward fun, Rick had always been more of an enigma. Quiet. Stoic. Standoffish. This was a new side to him. An unfortunately attractive side that might confuse Anne's feelings.

Anne leaned her elbows on the balcony and rested her chin on her fist. She grinned as Rick managed to wrap his forearm around Josh and hold him underwater as he palmed Knight's face and shoved him away. A wistful sigh passed her lips. "They make it seem so easy."

"Drowning?"

"Not worrying all the time about everything."

"That's because they leave it to us girls to clean up all their messes." Heartbreak included.

Anne pushed away and walked the length of the balcony as it wrapped around the side of the house to overlook the torrential ocean. Waves crashed and pulled against the sandy beach and swirled angrily around the jutting rocks at its edges.

"Ellie would love it here, wouldn't she? It's dangerous to surf here, but see out there?" Emma pointed a half mile down the beach where the sun was just casting orange shadows on the watery horizon. "That's prime surfer territory."

"She's been in Guatemala all spring break, hasn't she?"

"Catching up with her parents," Emma said with a nod. Ellie was her roommate and her favorite person at the Academy, but she was also the friend who seemed to need her the least now that she had her boyfriend and her scholarship and had stood up to her parents. Even though Emma felt responsible for helping Ellie with those changes, it wasn't as if she could keep clinging to them in a bid to keep Ellie close. "She sent pictures of her baby sister. I practically wanted to cuddle with my telephone she was so cute."

"Will you forward them to me?" Anne asked.

"Of course!"

"You must miss her," Anne said. "I know that without Lizzie around, my room's been so quiet."

Emma resisted the catch in her throat. Ellie had never been particularly noisy, but Anne was right. It had felt eerily quiet without her roommate, even a roommate who had never spoken very much. It was in other ways that she was loud. The scratch of her pen when she was scribbling out a particularly difficult math problem. The rhythmic swish of her turning textbook pages. How she hummed to herself when she did yoga poses. All evidence of a comfortable routine they had fallen into, puzzle pieces you didn't realize matched until the very end. "I miss her and Lizzie. But it's never just you and me. This is kind of nice."

When Emma looked at Anne, she saw herself. Granted, not a cute, perky blonde but a cautionary tale of what could have happened to Emma if she hadn't been so lucky.

Both she and Anne came from money. Both she and Anne had loving family and the best education. Both she and Anne were smart. But Anne's fortune had recently stumbled.

Helping Anne was like helping herself. Anne needed a break. And she needed to get over Rick. Who better to make Anne forget Rick than Josh? Who better to make fantasy a reality than Emma Greene?

"Ladies!"

Emma glanced down toward Knight's voice and walked back into the view of the pool. All three guys were still in the water, soaking wet, and grinning like idiots.

"You joining us?" Knight asked.

Emma glanced over at Anne, who was wringing her hands together. While Emma's instincts told her she wanted to jump into a pool with three hot guys, she could see Anne wasn't ready.

"Can't," she called down. "This hair is too cute to get wet."

"Aww, come on," Josh said. "If anyone can make wet look good, it's you!"

She ignored their begging and led Anne back inside. Anne's tote bag had been discreetly left on the ottoman by the foot of the bed. Peeking up from the bag was the unmistakable soft, downy, pink ear of a stuffed animal.

"What's this?" Emma asked. She reached for the bag, but Anne moved to step in front of her. Emma snatched her hand back. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"It's nothing," Anne said. She closed her eyes as if counting to three then reached into the bag and plucked out a soft, pink, floppy bunny. "Forget it—here. It's stupid."

"Oh, I've seen this before on your bed. I didn't realize you brought it everywhere."

"Not everywhere." Anne held the bunny against her waist, her arm wrapped around it like a belt. Its floopy feet tucked up nearly toward its ears. The bunny had seen better days. Tufts of cotton peeked out from loose stitches on his wide feet and at his rounded butt. A few Band-Aids stuck to its belly, and there was one by the shiny black bead of its right eye.

"It's from Rick, isn't it?" Emma asked.

"How did you know?"

"I know everything." Emma quirked her lip. "Just the way you're holding it. It's obviously a gift. Not worn enough to be from when you were a kid. Just a few years old. So…from him, right?" A terrible question popped into Emma's mind. "Do you still love him?"

Anne clutched the doll, her brown eyes as wide and round as her bunny's.

"I realize I've never asked." Emma sat on the edge of the bed. "I've always assumed you wanted to get over him and move on. But maybe you still love him."

"Rick? Love? No, no, of course not. That was ages ago. I wish people would forget about it. I know I want to. I'm sure he's embarrassed by it, too."

"You know the best thing we can do to make it seem like you're over him? We can run downstairs and jump into that pool."

Anne strangled her bunny a little more.

"Trust me. It'll show Rick that it's no big deal he's here." She pulled the bunny out of Anne's hands and dropped it on the bed.

"It'll seem obvious," Anne said. "Or worse, desperate. He'll know. They'll all know."

"Anne, stop. Deep breath." Emma clasped Anne's hands. "Forget Rick. Forget Knight. Forget Josh. It's just you and me. You're here to have fun. I just asked you to jump into the pool with me." Emma dipped her head to force Anne to meet her eyes. "Wouldn't you do it?"

Anne's expression slowly changed from contemplation to courage. "Yes. I would."

"Then let's go." Emma tugged Anne along before she could change her mind. They flew downstairs and out the doors to the pool. Rick had managed to get both Knight and Josh underwater, but when he saw the girls coming toward the pool he must have loosened his grip because both boys surfaced with a gasp.

"Cannonball!" Emma ran toward the pool, yanking Anne with her.

They leaped over the edge. Emma tucked her legs beneath her, hands raised above her head, fisted. She let out a cry as she plunged under the icy water. As she rose back up, she sputtered. Anne surfaced a moment later, running her hands through her dark, wet hair that plastered itself to the sides of her face.

Emma kicked to stay afloat. Her sundress swished in the water around her knees. Despite the crisp water lapping at her neck, the sun warmed her face. Droplets of water clung to her drenched bun and dripped off her eyelashes.

Josh splashed a wave of water into her face, and she squealed, splashing back. He turned his attentions to Anne then, who was receiving a similar water beating from Rick.

Her first instinct was to pull Rick underwater and away from Anne. But she decided not to worry about it for the moment. If Anne felt comfortable with Rick, then she'd more likely allow herself to fall for Josh. Instead of Rick's presence being a tragedy, she could turn him into an asset. That was just the kind of positive thinking Emma Greene was famous for.

Emma spun in the water toward Knight, who had snuck up behind her. He rested his hands at her waist where her dress, soaked, clung to her skin.

"Don't get too cocky," Knight said softly in her ear. A shiver ran down her neck. Knight's grip around her waist tightened. She felt him start to yank her under, but Emma, always one step ahead, twisted and swam away, grinning.

 

* * *

 

Steam rose off the buttery mashed potatoes. Crisp green beans sizzled in their cast iron serving dishes. The roasted chicken, perfectly browned, hissed with flavor. Emma breathed in the savory, salty scents and tapped the tips of her fingers together with satisfaction. She glanced at the silver serving tray of lemonade in sparkling flutes.

"Is this ready to go?" Knight asked.

"Not yet." She dug through the pantry until she found a tin of lemon sugar and rimmed each glass with sugary crystals.

"There's this food. Maybe you've heard of it," Knight said. "It's pizza. It comes when you call. Like magic."

"Oh, sure, pizza. Because nothing sets the stage for romance like droopy paper plates and globs of cheese."

Knight went completely still. "What does romance have to do with anything?"

"Nothing, nothing," she mumbled. "Are you saying you'd rather eat a greasy, gross pizza than this?"

"I was hoping for a decent pizza in my scenario." Knight dipped his finger into center of the bowl of mashed potatoes and, at the strangled expression on her face, plopped a dollop into his mouth. "You're right. This is more delicious."

Emma grabbed a silver-plated serving spoon and swirled it into the bowl, easing out the hole he'd made. "If it's so good then what are you complaining about?"

"This dinner feels manufactured. Catering? Flower arrangements?"

"Having standards, you mean? Anne has had a very difficult year. I want her to have a fabulous weekend."

Knight squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed the space above his nose with his thumb and forefinger. When he dropped his hand, his dark eyes pinned her hard. "Think about how all this is going to make Anne feel. Her family just went broke. They had to sell the school, her home. She's probably going to lose more before the year is over. This…" He waved his hand over the kitchen and jabbed his finger at the crystal chandelier overhead. "This isn't the life she has anymore. You're just going to bum her out by reminding her of that. You can't go tossing money at her problems thinking you can fix them."

Emma glanced down at the granite countertop and drew her finger in heart shapes against the cool, hard surface. "Anne's my friend, remember. My friend." She met his eyes. "I do think about what she's been through. I do worry about her. This weekend is not just about fancy meals and flower arrangements. It's about making Anne happy again, and making sure she'll be happy from now on."

"I thought this weekend was about your 9-1-1 call."

"Yes, well." Emma picked up the serving tray of lemonade and held it out to Knight. "I'm a multitasker, aren't I?"

Knight ran a hand through his hair so his brown locks stood up on the ends. He took the tray with a warning look. "Be careful, Emma. You might think you're doing what Anne wants, but somehow everything seems to be about what you want instead."

 

* * *

 

The Greene's formal dining room seated thirty, so Emma opted to serve dinner in the less formal blue salon. Its bright robin's-egg blue walls were the perfect backdrop for the white-framed photographs of her family.

Gail and Gary Greene dining with the governor after her mother's work to restore Southern California parks following the big quake.

Gail and Gary Greene on the red carpet at the Academy Awards. (They'd helped finance a documentary on war crimes that had won its category that night.)

There was even one picture of Emma as a newborn baby, Gail Greene holding her while dressed in sensible khakis and gloves at a groundbreaking for a new children's hospital.

This room was a tribute to their success, and Emma drew inspiration from her parents— most especially her mother—as she moved toward a crowning success of her own.

The table arrangement was perfect. Despite having to seat an uneven table of five instead of her planned four, she managed to switch out the square dining table for a round one and orchestrated Anne to be seated between herself and Josh.

The meal was divine. Knight's thumbprint in the mashed potatoes aside, everyone devoured the servings on their ivory china. Josh and Rick were generous with heaping seconds and thirds. The subject of pizza was wisely not reraised.

Best of all, the conversation was proceeding exactly as planned. Knight had managed to keep Rick completely occupied with discussion of some sport—soccer, if she understood correctly. Whether it was real soccer or a video game she had no idea and didn't quite care. This left Josh to devote his attention to Anne, which he was doing admirably.

"Your cojones!" Josh slapped his hand on the table so hard his fork jumped. "When you told them to give you the F, I thought the Anatomy teacher was going to piss her pants."

"I wasn't trying to have…cojones." Anne's voice dropped to a whisper at the word. "I didn't want to dissect the baby pig heart. I don't think we need to dissect anything in high school."

"Let me disagree. Cojones aside, the point is an education," Josh said.

Forks stilled, chewing jaws slowed. All eyes shifted to Anne and Josh. Emma felt a defense leap to her lips, but Anne laid her hand quickly on top of Emma's for a brief second, as if she to stop her.

Anne grew uncharacteristically taller in the chair, and her gaze didn't waver. "I found a computer simulation substitute for dissection. All of the education, no dead pig."

"But it's not like the pig was going to be undead," Josh reasoned. "You didn't save a pig. You just ended up throwing a pig away. But I guess it's the principle of the thing. If you don't take a stand, there might be another dead pig next year."

"Exactly." Anne touched her napkin to the corner of her lips.

Emma managed not to clap her hands. In the space of a second, Josh had gone from complimenting Anne to questioning her to taking her side. Emma was momentarily in awe of her genius. She wanted to bask in the glow but the weekend was far from over, and she'd yet to unleash her grand plan.

"Be right back. I'm going to check on dessert." She rose from the table, barely able to contain herself. She pranced back to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and took out the crystal ramekins of chilled lemon tart, which she lined on a waiting silver tray.

Josh joined her a few moments later.

"Is everything okay?" she asked him, peering around him for a glimpse into the dining room to make sure Rick wasn't complicating matters.

"Just thought I'd help." Josh flashed that million-dollar grin that lit up cinema screens.

Emma felt her throat clog. He was so different now from when she had tried to date him. So much nicer, so much more sensitive. Why couldn't he have been that way for her? She shook the thoughts away and forced a smile. This weekend was not about her.

"You know how you can help?" she asked Josh.

He leaned over the counter on his elbows and fluttered his illegally long lashes. "Do tell."

"You know about Anne and Rick's history?"

"Ancient history. Boy dates girl. Girl breaks up with boy. Boy goes away to military school and comes back years later. There's not even a twist." He shrugged and dipped a finger in one the crystal ramekins to scoop the lemon curd into his mouth. What was it with guys having to put their fingers in everything?

Rather than lecture him, Emma kept note of the tainted dessert's position on the silver tray so she could be sure to give him the same one he'd touched. "Ancient history or not, it's still weird for Anne that he's here. Would you mind just taking extra special care of Anne this weekend? Just so she's comfortable?"

Josh's expression turned quizzical as he picked up the tray. "Sure thing."

Emma pumped her fist in quick victory. Talk about turning lemons into lemonade. Rick's presence now meant Josh would be looking after Anne, paying special attention to her. Perfect!

She followed him out and set the desserts in front of her guests. "Made from lemons harvested from a grove just a mile down the road," she said as she took her seat. "A little something sweet before I ask you for a favor."

Josh had his tart finished before the sentence was out of Emma's mouth. Anne set down her spoon to listen attentively, and Rick somehow managed to eek yet another inch out of that perfect military posture.

Knight tilted his head toward her as relief softened the tension that had been at the corner of his eyes all dinner. Emma bit the inside of her bottom lip. Poor Knight. While everyone was curious about her 9-1-1 text, Knight had worn it on his face the most, and in the clenching of his fists.

She rested her hand against her heart as she took her seat. "My parents are out of town this weekend, but when they're here, they're one of the primary supporters of the local animal shelter. I received a call this weekend from their community organizer." Received a call, made a call, these were pesky details. "They need our help. They're having their annual adopt-a-thon on Monday, but there was an unprecedented influx of dogs and cats. Something about the summer heat and birth levels." She was sure a news search would turn up something to back her up if anyone cared enough to check. "They're in desperate need of volunteers to prepare them for Sunday's adoption event. I normally wouldn't ask, but this cause is so important to my parents and to me. If we don't help, they'll have to put the poor animals down. I can't stand the thought."

Emma knew she had Anne's heart in a vise by the way her brown eyes went all Bambi soft and wet.

"Of course, Emma. Oh, the poor puppies and kittens." Anne pressed her palms to her cheeks. "They'll need to be named, tagged. Cleaned. Oh, walked. How many came in? Do we have enough people? Maybe I can recruit a few more."

Rick cleared his throat. "I don't mean to be rude, but are we qualified to take care of a bunch of stray animals? I know Anne is great with animals and would be a lifesaver." Emma didn't miss how Anne's cheeks heated at his compliment. "But the rest of us?" he finished, looking most pointedly at Josh.

"The only qualification we need is to care," Emma said, one of her mom's infamous sayings. "I knew some of you were back early from spring break or just stayed in the dorms, but if you don't want to help or have better things to do…"

"That's not what I said." Rick's eyes darted to Anne for a quick moment before coming back to Emma. "But if we're more harm than good…"

"Didn't Einstein say the greatest danger is not in doing harm but in not doing anything about it?" Emma said.

"Wow." Knight nodded, impressed. "Breaking out Einstein."

She shot him a quelling look.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm in. It'll be cool. Good press, at least." Josh squeezed Anne's shoulder. "You'll show us the ropes, won't you?"

"Of course."

Emma smiled triumphantly as Josh's hand lingered on Anne's shoulder. She felt someone kick her under the table and glared at Knight, who was glaring at her.

What are you doing? he mouthed.

Emma turned back to her guests, ignoring him. "Thank you, guys. We're going to have a great time."

 

* * *

 

Emma slipped into her pink silk camisole and sat in front of her vanity. She usually continued her nightly ritual with fifty strokes of her wide-toothed comb along her scalp to stimulate hair growth, followed by dry brushing and moisturizing head to toe. The same routine a starlet had taught her mom years ago and that her mom had then taught her. Gail Greene was famous for her youthful beauty, and Emma wanted to be famous for everything her mom was famous for.

Her door swung open, and in her vanity mirror's reflection, she saw Knight charge in, still dressed in jeans and a dark-gray tee, his hair sticking up in every direction. She whirled around. "Knight! What the—"

"What is this weekend really about Emma?" Knight stopped in front of her and crossed his arms. His gaze dipped a moment but shot back up to her face, more irate than ever. "Don't tell me it's about saving puppies."

Emma folded her arms over her chest. "This weekend is about a lot of things. I told you. I'm a multitasker. I want to spend time with my friends. And yeah, I want to save a few puppies."

"I'd be fine with all that, but this is also about you trying to set up Anne and Josh." He paused a beat as if waiting for her to deny it. His voice was strangled. "Emma—"

"So what? Why shouldn't I want to set up Anne and Josh?"

Knight's face pulled into a look of utter distaste. "Don't tell me you'd do that to Anne. Especially after what Josh did to you. Why would you waste that extraordinary energy on him?"

"Why, Knight," she said when a sharp spear of pain lanced through her at his biting remark, "I believe you just called me extraordinary."

"You think Josh is going to make her happy? Did he make you happy?"

Her smile fell, but she swallowed it under a smirk. "No, he didn't, and no, he won't make her happy, either. So typical, Knight, to assume I'd think boys were the answers to all our problems. Having fun, getting confident, and not living in the past anymore. That's what will make Anne happy. It's going to take more than compliments from Josh, but it's a start. I'm trying to help her, which is more than I can say for you."

Knight's expression softened. He took three steps toward her. He was almost standing between her bare legs, the camisole riding up on her thighs. He rested his hands on her shoulders, and his thumb rubbed softly against her skin. Every single strand of hair on her arms felt charged, and she didn't need a mirror to know her face had flushed.

"I know you mean well, Emma. That's one of the things I love about you—you always mean well."

"Another compliment?" Emma said. "Is it my birthday?" She felt warm even as his words stung. That was the problem with Knight. He was always so disapproving of everything she did. Every compliment came with a cut. Every sweet word with a sarcastic sting. "It's three dozen dogs and cats. Two friends. One weekend. Just stick with me."

He smirked. "When have I not?"

His gaze brushed over her as he gave her shoulders another quick squeeze. She glanced at his hands, noticing for the first time the rough skin at his knuckles from his weekly boxing sessions, the veins running along the skin. The tip of her nose brushed his wrist, and she was caught off guard by the sudden urge to turn to him, press her cheek against his hand.

She imagined him palming her face, pulling her to her feet, sliding his hand against the smooth silk of her camisole at her waist…

Knight pulled away and walked quickly out to the balcony.

With a long, slow breath, Emma released the tension in her fists. The problem with a superior mind was that it came with a rather active imagination. Pesky thing. She felt more undressed and unsettled than ever, and if she wanted to win a word war with Knight, she needed all her mental faculties.

"Is this where you spy on us?" Knight asked as he peered over the balcony to the pool.

She joined him outside. Goose bumps broke out over her bare legs and the backs of her arms, and she shivered. "This is where I let you get a rare glimpse of me to start your morning," Emma said.

"Always with the comebacks."

The palpitating images of them together burned away with the ocean breeze. He was looking at her the way he usually did. The sardonic smile. The raised right eyebrow. Her friend, Knight. She leaned her head against his shoulder. "Thanks for sticking by me."

"It doesn't mean I agree with your plan," he said.

"Come on, Knight." Emma looked up at him endearingly. "How can you not root for love?"

He didn't meet her eyes. "Love doesn't always fix things. It's not so simple. Sometimes it just complicates things."

"Complications are good. Even Rick being here turned out to work out better than if it had just been Anne and Josh. Rick is the perfect, distant foil to Josh's friendly attention."

"Rick's not a bad guy."

"I never said he was."

"Anne's the one who dumped him, you know." Knight turned away to lean against the railing. "Why would she care if he's here?"

"Like you said, love isn't so simple."

"I'd like to see you in love, Emma." He walked through her room and out to the hall, then left with parting words, "It would do you good."

Emma shivered again and rubbed her arms. She closed the balcony door and sat back at the vanity to run the comb through her hair. Her? In love?

She couldn't even imagine it. She'd tried to be in love. She'd tried to be wrapped up in another person. She'd even tried to love Josh. Being with Josh had been wonderful and romantic, all consuming and awful. As high as she'd felt, she was dropped just as deep.

Emma wasn't cut out for heartbreak or depression. Better to stay where she was, on her lofty perch helping others.