EMMA DAMIAN 17

E M M A

It had been a week since Bora, and I was just reaching to the point where thinking about Damian didn't make me want to punch the next wall. Of course, the rage remained, but it was a constant, even simmer rather than a wild, roaring boil overflowing over the pot's rims.

And, as I cooled off over the course of the week, I began to contemplate the possibility maybe I'd been a bit too harsh on the guy. I was still angry at him, but he had a valid point about it requiring two to tango.

I'd always been the type of lady who made her own choices and stuck to them. I never enjoyed passing the buck, and I never liked blaming others for issues. I'd done the same thing with Damian. I'd pretended to be some dumb lady who'd been put under a spell by the attractive doctor, swooned with wine and dancing and brilliant lights, and then been carried off into bed as if I'd had no choice.

However, I did have a say in the situation. Yes, I'd had a few beers, but I wasn't intoxicated and was aware of what was going on. I remembered my thoughts as Damian carried me away, and how all I wanted was for him to make love to me like we had so many times before.

Whatever. Everything was in the past. While my rage towards Damian had subsided, I knew it was still for the best that we weren't in each other's lives. Bora had been our one chance to be just friends, and while it wasn't entirely his fault, it had failed nonetheless.

And it was time to go.

While I sifted through client emails, a half-watched Netflix horror series played in the background, with a glass of wine on the coffee table. I looked up from my computer long enough to see the girl on television enter some strange bedroom, only to have a closet open and a spectral hand reach out to grab her. I smiled as I laughed at the ridiculous scares.

My phone rang; it was a text from Hannah. We'd been driving back and forth all afternoon since Hannah had gone to Manila to look at some local fabric stores. Hannah was not only the best freaking assistant I could have asked for, but she was also a fantastic seamstress. She'd also offered to make some tablecloths for one of the upcoming events.

How about this? A image of a red-and-white checkered fabric was attached. I looked at the picture for a bit, trying to decide if it was appropriate for a baby shower.

It's lovely. It's a little picnic - like.

Miss fussy, I'll keep looking ;)

I smirked, putting down my phone and returning my attention to my glass of wine and the show.

Then my phone buzzed, then buzzed twice, indicating a phone call rather than a text message. I grabbed the phone and swiped to agree without looking at the screen.

"Are you having problems picking on fabrics?" "Hell, if I'd known, I'd have gone with you," I said, my voice cracking with laughter.

“Emma! Where have you gone? " The voice on the other end was anxious and tight, and it was most emphatically not Hannah. I checked the screen while holding the phone away from my face.

“Zea?” I sat up, certain something was wrong. “I’m at my apartment. Where are you?”

Instead of answering, she panted, “Omigod, omigod.”

“Zea!” I stood up and ran to my sneakers, stepping into them without untying them. More moans of pain sounded on the other end. “Oh my God, are you in labor?”

Only labored pants answered, terrifying me.

“Are you having her right now?” I asked, grabbing my keys and snatching my coat off the back of the dining room chair where it was draped.

“Yes!” The word sounded like it had come out with no small amount of effort.

“Where’s Carlos?”

More panting came from the other line, followed by relief. "Ohmigod," she huffed, her voice less tense. "These contractions are like a mother to me."

I gave a small smile, happy that she was relieved. "All right, now take a deep breath and tell me where Carlos is."

"I'm not sure. My water broke a few days ago, and now I'm alone in the middle of this massive house, unable to contact my husband."

I hurried out the door, coat on and keys in hand, cradling the phone with my neck. "I used to think Carlos was Mr. On-The-Ball when it came to this sort of thing. "Especially with a woman on the verge of giving birth." I opened my driver's side door and got into the seat.

"I understand. That's what makes it so terrifying. It's not like him to just...disappear from the face of the planet like this." She resumed her regular breathing after she spoke, and I knew it wouldn't be long until her next contraction.

"Don't worry about Carlos right now," I murmured as my phone synchronized with my car's Bluetooth and I drove out of the parking lot of the apartment complex. "I'm on my way over, and when I arrive, I'll take your big, pregnant a$$ to the hospital, okay?" ”

"No," she replied.

“No? ”

"No, since our residence is too distant from the hospital." When this happened with Oliver, we got trapped in traffic. I'm not going to chance it again."

The logical half of me wanted to ask her what she'd been planned in the first place. They resided in one of town's wealthier neighborhoods, where each mansion had its own huge estate in the shade of the mountains. That meant they were a long way from medical attention.

"We had this whole thing planned," Zea whispered, her voice tinged with terror. "We were planning on having a midwife come in and perform the procedure here...but my due date isn't for another week."

"The deadline is today," I reminded her, my gaze fixed on the road as I drove into downtown. "And it's not going to go as planned, but that doesn't matter — I'm with you, okay?" ”

Her end of the line took more slow, steady breaths. I was concerned that she would have another contraction. "I know. And there isn't another friend I'd rather have with me. But...we really need a doctor."

"We'll track down Carlos. His phone must have died or something. Nothing to be concerned about."

I turned left, the mountains in the distance towering in the horizon. I was doing my best to remain calm and not let the circumstances overwhelm me. But the thought of Zea alone in that enormous mansion about to birth her kid made me dig my nails into the steering wheel as I drove.

"We need to devise a backup plan," she remarked.

"Is there a backup plan? " I asked. "What exactly do you mean?" ”

"We need to bring in another doctor."

"OK, that's clever. What are your thoughts? Is there a doctor nearby who you could contact? ”

"Yeah, kind of. Well.. it’s – Damian."

When I heard his name, my blood raced cold. I had to refocus my attention on the road to avoid driving into the massive trunks of the pine trees that flanked the road leading to their area.

“Damian? ”

“Yeah. If we can't reach Carlos, we should try him. He can either find Carlos or come over here and assist me with the baby." She hesitated, her breathing quickening. "Here's what we're going to do: I'm going to try to find my missing spouse, and you're going to contact Damian." He'll be able to assist."

I remained silent for a few moments, attempting to sort through my internal turmoil. I'd just decided to keep my distance from Damian. Worse, Zea was completely unaware of anything.

"Is there something wrong? ”

"Nothing is wrong," I said flatly, but what else was I expected to say? "I just…"

I was going to ask if she could call him. But I had the foresight to see it was a poor idea - the last thing I needed to do was give a woman in labor anything else to worry about.

"You exactly what? " she inquired. When I didn't react, her voice became exasperated. "Listen, I'm going to have to hang up and see if I can reach Carlos." "You phone Damian and inform him of the situation."

"That sounds fine. I'll be there in about ten minutes."

We exchanged our goodbyes and hung up the phone. I arrived at their elite neighborhood's high gates just as the phone call finished. I sat next to the keypad for a time, knowing I needed to contact Damian but not wanting to. A harsh horn blew, and I looked back to see a sleek sports car stopped behind me, the driver frustratedly waving his arm out the window.

There is no time to sit and think. I waved my hand out the window at him before entering the gate code into the keypad. The massive gates opened slowly and silently, and the car followed behind me and spun around as soon as we were through. He gave me a harsh look and walked away into the distance.

There are bigger issues to be concerned about. I dialed Damian's phone and exhaled deeply. I didn't have time to waste because Zea was waiting for me. I pressed the call button and continued driving. The phone rang once, then twice.

"Well, well, well," he responded, his voice oozing with his trademark arrogance. "Well, so much for never speaking to me again, huh? ”

I wasn't in the mood to play games. "Listen, there's something going on, and you shouldn't say anything." Got it? ”

He said after a little pause. "Uh, sure. What's going on? ”

I took a big breath and informed him what was going on, detailing Zea's difficulties in contacting Carlos.

"That's...strange," that's he said. "When it comes to this kind of activity, Carlos is typically on the ball." He is not the type of guy to depart while his wife is so close to having a baby."

"That's exactly what I thought!

" I spoke with an excited tone that embarrassed me. I cleared my throat and continued.

"Can you tell me where you are right now?"

I wound along the gently curving road through the neighborhood, mansions visible to my right and left through the thick tree cover. “Almost at Zea and Carlos’s. But I have no idea what to do!”

A beat of silence as he thought it over. “We’re going to hang up and I’m going to move heaven and earth to find Carlos. But before that I’ll call a friend of mine at one of the local clinics. He’ll get in touch with the hospital and make sure they’re ready for Zea.”

“She said she doesn’t want to risk going to the hospital after what happened with Oliver.”

Another pause. “That all depends. Get there and ask her how far apart the contractions are. If they’re around five minutes, nice and steady, that means she’s fine for the trip. And it’s the middle of the day – traffic on the highway should be fine.”

Damian could be a cocky, full-of-himself smartass, but at that moment he was all business. His calm, even tone was reassuring as hell.

“Get there and take her to the hospital as fast as possible,” he said, restating the instructions. “I’ll find Carlos and get in touch. Got it?”

“Got it.”

We hung up as I pulled up to the huge, three-story chalet-style mansion. The call with Damian had done a world of good. Not only did we have a plan, it was no small comfort to know things weren’t totally ruined between us. Even his smart-ass greeting was a reminder of how things used to be.

I got out and hurried through the halls of the house, calling out Zea’s name.

“In the living room!”

The house was so big it was almost funny – big enough to follow the sound of someone’s voice to track them down. I rushed to the living room and found her laying on the couch. Her face was sheened with sweat, her hair swept back, her belly huge.

“Did you call him?” Zea asked, her eyes wide. “What did he say?”

“I did. And he said he’d find Carlos, and that I needed to ask you how far apart your contractions were.”

“They’re…they’re around five minutes. I remembered to keep track this time.”

“Good. That’s what Damian says is enough minutes apart to go to the hospital.”

Zea shook her head. “No hospital. No way I get stuck in traffic.”

As if he somehow knew what we were talking about, my phone buzzed with a text from Damian. It was a screen shot from Google Maps, the route from Zea and Carlos’s house to the hospital. The drivetime was twenty-two minutes.

No traffic. Plenty of time to call an ambulance and get there. Still looking for Carlos.

To save time, I showed Zea the phone. She stared at it, thinking. “We go, but we’re not taking a damn ambulance – we go in your car.”

“But—”

“Not up for discussion. I’m not sitting around while we wait for some ambulance to show up.”

There were plenty of reasons Zea and I were such good friends, and one of them was we were both stubborn as hell. No sense in trying to talk her out of it.

“Where’s Oliver?” I asked, looking around as if I might spot him hiding silently in the corner.

“He’s over at the Abernathys,” she said, referring to one of their neighbors. “He and Ben are having a playdate. I was supposed to run some errands today, but…”

She didn’t get a chance to finish as another contraction began, and I grabbed Zea’s hand to help her work through the pain. When it faded, I helped her off the couch, my hand on the small of her back as I led her through the house.

“You’re going to be fine,” I said. “We’ll find Carlos, and before you know it, you’ll have a sweet little baby girl in your arms. Alright?”

She nodded, but the look on her face suggested she didn’t feel confident. I didn’t blame her. She was pregnant, and her husband was nowhere to be found. All I could hope for was that Damian, the man only a week ago I’d sworn never to speak to, would be as good as his word.