“Just the usual sisterly disagreement,” she said, obviously minimizing it.
“Granted, I’ve never had a sister, but it seems more serious than that to me,” Ethan said. “You didn’t fight because she bailed on you last night, did you? I told you it wasn’t a big deal.”
“Nothing like that,” she insisted, but offered no further explanation.
“If you say so,” he said, just in time for the door to the deck to burst open. Emily stormed inside, grabbed her purse off a table and sailed through the dining room, ignoring everyone who called out to her, including her grandmother.
“Oh, no. This can’t be good,” Samantha murmured, and ran after her, as did Gabi and Cora Jane.
Boone entered more slowly, his expression shell-shocked. “Sorry about that,” he said, though his voice was barely loud enough to be heard by those close by. He headed directly to the bar, ordered a drink, then faced everyone. He tried for an upbeat expression, but it fell flat.
“I hope you’ll all stay and enjoy dinner,” he said stiffly. “Emily’s not feeling well. She had to leave.”
B.J. ran to his dad’s side, his expression filled with worry. “Daddy, Emily looked mad. Did you have a fight?”
Boone ruffled his son’s hair with a halfhearted gesture. “Just a little disagreement, son.”
Ethan thought otherwise. He also thought Boone was maybe a split second from shattering. Ethan didn’t want that happening in front of B.J. Keeping a concerned eye on his friend, he approached Boone’s mother. “Could you keep an eye on B.J. for a bit? I need to speak to Boone privately.”
She blinked at the request, obviously not used to playing the role of doting grandmother, then nodded. “Sure, I can do that. You don’t think there’s real trouble in paradise, do you?”
“Hard to say,” Ethan replied tersely.
The other party attendees, sensing a real crisis, were wise enough to give Boone a wide berth. Ethan crossed over to the bar, ordered his own drink, then waited. Boone finished the drink in front of him, then ordered another.
“Can I assume you just filled Emily in on your thoughts about Los Angeles?” Ethan inquired eventually.
Boone responded with a wry expression. “Oh, yeah. Bad idea, Ethan. Ironically, I actually think she’d been expecting it, but she didn’t take it well, just the same.”
“Better now than later,” Ethan said, sticking to his guns.
“You saw her. Did she look as if she might forgive me any time this century?”
“Forgive you for what? Being open and honest with her?”
“That’s not exactly how she sees it. She said, well, she said a lot of stuff, not the least of which being that I’d deceived her. I believe the word betrayal was thrown around quite a bit, as well.”
Ethan winced. “Okay, I suppose you can’t entirely blame her for feeling like that,” he said, then added quickly, “Not that you intended to do that, of course.”
Boone gave him a bleak look. “It’s over.”
Ethan regarded him incredulously. “Don’t be ridiculous. It is not over,” he said with confidence, then studied him worriedly. “Did she say it was over?”
“She didn’t throw the ring in my face, if that’s what you’re asking, but she might as well have. She says she doesn’t want to see me again, that she wants me out of the house in Los Angeles before she gets back since I hate it there so much. I’d say that’s pretty clear.”
“Heat of the moment,” Ethan said, even as he wondered if it could really be more than that.
“I can see the handwriting on the wall,” Boone contradicted despondently.
“You’re not a fortune-teller, Boone,” Ethan said with a touch of impatience. He was fully aware of the irony of him, of all people, giving a pep talk about lasting love. Still, he continued. “Stop anticipating disaster. It’s a bump in the road. You’ll work this out. You caught her off guard. Give her time to cool down and think this through.”
“Not this time,” Boone said. “Time’s not going to change anything.”
Ethan wasn’t used to being in the position of defending relationships, but he found himself advising Boone to trust in what he and Emily had. “You hurt her. She’s striking back. Please do not tell me you’re the kind of man who walks away at the first sign of trouble. I thought this woman was the love of your life. You let her go once. If you do it again, you’ll never forgive yourself.”
“She’s the one who walked out,” Boone grumbled. “Both times.”
“Meaning it’s up to her to fix this so your pride can remain intact? That’ll be cold comfort to you when you’re all alone in your bed. Don’t you remember how that felt?”
Boone sighed. “All too well,” he admitted.
“Then what are you going to do?”
“I wish I knew.”
“Well, talking to me isn’t the answer, I can tell you that.”
“And you think I’m going to get within a hundred yards of her tonight once Gabi, Samantha and Cora Jane turn that house into a fortress against the enemy?”
“A very dramatic description, but last time I checked, every one of those women adores you and wants you and Emily to live happily ever after. I suspect you can talk your way past them. Now, go.”
“I need to check on B.J.,” Boone protested.
“Your son is with his grandmother. She’ll make sure he gets home. I’ll check in on him, too. Stop delaying. Get over there and grovel, if you need to.”
“Groveling’s one thing,” Boone said. “I can do that. It still won’t solve the core problem.”
“And that’s what compromise is all about. You give a little. She gives a little. And voilà! A solution materializes and the wedding’s back on.”
Boone listened to what he had to say, then chuckled. “It’s no wonder you’re not married. Forget the infamous Lisa. You live in some sort of delusional world when it comes to women. I’m going to pay for this. I’ll be living in Los Angeles
