Emily came to an abrupt stop; her brow drew up in confusion. “For what?”
“Gavin’s Fourth of July party. We told you about it last night.”
“Right, but that’s Saturday. Why do I need off all three days?”
Dillon snaked his arm around her waist and continued to lead her to his Mercedes. “Because Gavin Blake doesn’t throw what you would consider a normal Fourth of July party.” Smiling, he opened the door for her. “We party the whole weekend. We’ll sleep there Friday and Saturday night and then head back here on Sunday morning.”
Emily settled herself into the seat of his car, and he closed the door. Once again, she felt her pulse jump but for something completely different now. Her stomach felt nauseated at the thought of having to spend an entire weekend at Gavin’s home in the Hamptons. She had prepared herself to see him again—she had to because he was Dillon’s friend, and there was no doubt they would run into each other from time to time—but this…this was different.
Dillon lounged into his seat, and the engine purred to life.
Biting her lip, Emily looked over at him. “It’s already Wednesday night, Dillon. I can’t get off all three days. I told Antonio about Saturday, and he was fine with that, but I’m pretty sure he won’t be fine with me taking the entire weekend off.”
“Then, I’ll go in and say something to him,” he stated, his voice holding a tone of superiority.
“Dillon, you will do no such thing,” she replied, her tone showing aggravation. “I’ll ask him when I get to work tomorrow. Don’t you dare go there and say anything.”
“Whoa-whoa,” he laughed, taking his hands off the steering wheel momentarily and holding them up in surrender. “Damn, Emily, it was just a gesture.”
Rolling her eyes, she leaned her head against the window. She wondered two things. One, if she could actually get off work all three days on a holiday weekend, which seemed near impossible in her mind. And two, if she was able to get off, how on earth was she ever going to make it through an entire weekend around Gavin without absolutely losing her mind?
Chapter Five
The Many Layers
“Damn, Emily, how much did you pack?” Olivia asked, eyeing her friend’s suitcase as she slid a backpack over her shoulder. “It’s only two nights, chick.”
Emily’s head snapped up. She tucked the last bit of her makeup into a bag. “You’re not staying the whole weekend; that’s why you packed less. It’s really not that much.”
“It looks like you’ve stowed a small city away in there,” Olivia laughed, walking over to her. Tossing her blonde hair to the side, she wiggled her brows. “But that’s right—you’re going to be around Gavin all weekend, so I’m sure you’ll need enough clothing to change into. I’ve heard that he likes black lingerie,” she winked.
“You’re such a drama queen, Liv. Just stop with your future assumptions, okay?” Emily walked in the kitchen with her bag as Olivia followed, tickling her ribcage. She jumped and laughed, pushing her away. “Oh, and by the way, a whopping thank you for the warning about this being a two-night hiatus. I’m lucky Fallon was able to cover my shifts.”
Olivia held her hands up and shrugged. “Hey, I just assumed you knew about it.”
A quick knock came at the front door, and Dillon peeked his head in. “Is everyone decent in here?”
Emily made a slicing motion across her own neck, mouthing Gavin’s name.
Olivia nodded that she understood and then piped aloud, “Actually, we’re not. You know I’m into women now, so I have your girlfriend spread eagle across the kitchen table.”
Emily shook her head and laughed.
“That’s right. I forgot about that, Ollie…I mean, Olivia,” Dillon huffed, making his way into the apartment over to Emily. “The entire male species has banned you.”
“Fuck off, Douchepickle…I mean, Dillon. It’s the other way around. I banned them,” Olivia hissed, grabbing her backpack from the floor. “And my girlfriend’s meeting me out there, so you better not say a fucking word, asshole.”
Dillon laughed and shot her a wicked smile. He then dropped a kiss on Emily’s lips.
Olivia rolled her eyes. “Is the limo here yet?”
Emily looked to Dillon confused. “Limo?”
“Like I said, babe, it’s a crazy party from beginning to end.” He yanked Emily’s suitcase from the ground, the heaviness of it apparent in the straining of his bicep. “Gavin sends one for us every year. And it just so happens that, yes, it’s outside ready and waiting. Let’s go. It’s almost three, and it’s Friday, so rush hour will be a bitch.”
Dillon led the way out the door and into the elevator.
Before stepping in, Emily widened her eyes at Olivia and whispered, “Is he in the limo?”
With two sharp shakes of her head, Olivia whispered back, “No, he would’ve slept there last night to get the place ready.”
Stepping out into the street, Emily took in the sight of the gray and black Hummer limousine. The chauffeur was holding the door open with a huge smile on his face. He retrieved everyone’s bags and placed them in the trunk. As Emily and Olivia settled themselves into a seat, Dillon jumped in, popped a 30 Seconds to Mars CD in the player, and swiftly started making himself a drink.
“Always hitting the booze, Dickhead…uh, Dillon,” Olivia remarked, studying her face in a small compact mirror.