The Night Before Christian by Avery Joy

Author:Avery, Joy [Avery, Joy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-12-11T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Emory tried her damndest not to think about Christian, but she was failing miserably. She hadn’t heard anything from him since their exchange in her mother’s yard. Three days ago. As silly as it sounded, every time her phone rang, she hoped it was him. How pathetic could she get?

Remembering their last night together, she stabbed a hydrangea into the centerpiece she was working on. The only person she could be pissed at was herself. How could she allow her feelings to take control of her like that? Why did she have the right to question Christian’s love for Yasmin? Of course he loved her. He was marrying her for Christ’s sake.

“Yes, I love her.”

The words rang in her ears like deafening church bells, and it suddenly became difficult to breathe. She closed her eyes and wished that it was all a dream. That Christian had never strolled into her shop. That she’d never spent time with him. That’s she’d tossed the keys back to the rental car agent when he’d showed up at her front door three days ago, stating Mr. St. Claire had arranged the rental of the vehicle for her. She simply wanted to go back to the night before Christian. When things were much simpler.

In a few weeks, it’ll all be over, she reminded herself. She would never have to see Christian St. Claire again. The idea brought only minimal relief. As much as she didn’t want to see him, the more she craved to see him.

Pathetic.

The shop door chimed, and Emory welcomed the distraction. “I’ll be with you in one moment.”

Moving from the back of the shop, Emory stopped dead in her track. Of all the people she could have ever guess would visit her shop, Christian’s grandmother was not one of them. Her visit could only constitute trouble.

“Ms. St. Clair?”

“Mrs.,” she corrected her. The woman examined Emory as if she were a reject from a mental institution and wasn’t worthy of breathing the same air as her. “Dear, I thought I’d made myself clear two years ago when I asked you to stay away from my grandson.”

The woman hadn’t asked, she’d ordered. Clearly, Amelia St. Clair had discovered she and Christian had reconnected. But how? Surely, he hadn’t told her. Then it hit her. Yasmin had to have mentioned her name and Mrs. St. Claire had put two and two together. Oh, God. Did this mean Yasmin knew also? Was that the reason Yasmin hadn’t responded to the email she’d sent earlier?

“I’m not sure what you believe is going on, but I can assure you anything between Christian and I is strictly business.”

“Really?”

Emory understood immediately that it was a rhetorical question so she didn’t bother answering it. Mrs. St. Claire scrutinized her surroundings with a distasteful scowl on her face. The woman made Emory feel like a visitor in her own shop—an unwanted visitor at that.

Mrs. St. Claire thumbed a poinsettia leaf. Without the courtesy of eye contact, she said, “Stay away from my grandson, Ms.

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