"Emily honey"... Patricia Holmes sighed trying as she had for the last four days to break through the fog her daughter was in. "How long are you going to do this?" she asked softly, desperate to penetrate the haze that her daughter had been living in since the accident.
"Do what?" Emily asked hazily.
"Lock yourself away in this house. Hide yourself away from the world." Patricia explained. "You have got to get out of this house."
"I can't think of anywhere to go." Emily breathed honestly, realizing that had the accident not happened, she'd be scrambling around the kitchen. Her daughter Avery would be sitting on her favorite stool, leaning on the counter, intently listening to some random story Emily would invent. Avery's wide blue eyes would be following her around the kitchen as she prepared lunch.
"I know you're hurting honey but you have to get past this." Patricia said firmly, pulling Emily from her reverie of memories. "Do you want dinner?" she asked softly.
"I want my daughter." Emily said numbly. "How exactly am I supposed to get past that?"
"I don't know. But I know you don't do it by locking yourself in here like some hermit." Patricia explained, praying for the words to soothe her suffering. "Now's probably not the best time to tell you this Emily... But Matthew Chasen was released on bail today. He's out now."
"Really?" Emily questioned, smiling for the first time. "You know what Mama... maybe you're right... maybe I do need to get out of this house." She said thoughtfully.
"You stay clear of that man Emily." Patricia warned, concern filling her voice for the first time since the accident.
"I am. I think I'm gonna just get out of town for a bit." Emily said rising tiredly. "I need to get my head on straight... I can't do that here."
"Maybe that's a good idea." Patricia nodded thoughtfully.
The image that caught her attention, as she glanced into the wall sized mirror on the bar room wall startled her a bit. The blonde dye and relaxant that laid her natural curls flat, was such a drastic change that she barely even recognized herself. Even she couldn't deny that she made a sexy picture in her poured on jeans, quarter inch high heeled boots and low cut white button up silk blouse. It didn't take her eyes but a moment to locate Matthew Chasen.
It took her much longer than a moment to suppress the desire to ram the pool stick he was aiming, down his throat. Nervously she took a seat, at a table in the corner of the smoked filled room. Her eyes didn't leave Matthew, not when she placed her drink order, not when the waitress returned with the apple martini she had no intention of drinking. Instead she watched the carefree man's laughing jovial face. To watch him as she was in that moment, one would never know he was solely responsible for the death of a five year old, a mere week earlier.
"Hey uh Matt..." Brandon Brewster, Matthew's new found best friend said, leaning idly back against the pool table. "Looks like you got a little blonde bombshell in the corner scoping you out." Brandon pointed out.
"Yeah..." Matt smiled, showing off his deep dimples, barely sparing the blonde a side ways glance." "She's been eyeing me since she walked in."
"Dude, why in the hell are you still talking to me?" Brandon asked confusedly. "That bitch is smoking hot."
"No way bro. I'm not interested." Matt laughed at his fair haired companion. "Despite the way she's dressed, I guarantee you, that girl's looking for way more than I care to offer."
"The way she's eye fucking you, I guarantee she ain't looking for nothing but a party tonight." Brandon countered, turning fully to study the topic of their conversation. "See, she's not shy. A shy chic would've lowered her eyes when she noticed we realized she was staring. Go make your move man." Brandon demanded.
"Man, I got too much on my mind." Mathew refused taking two of the tequila shots the waitress brought over to them.
"All the more reason for a freaky ass distraction and I betcha an eight ball that, that girl is a straight up freak. Now go ask her to dance before I do." Brandon chided.
"Fine." Matt gave in, only to shut his friend up. Hesitantly, he set his pool stick aside and crossed the room, imitating a far greater deal of confidence than he actually felt.
Emily's heart froze in her chest as the man that she wanted to see dead, began moving closer to her. She knew by his confident swagger that she was his intended mark for the night. That had been her plan. She couldn't understand why her hand trembled when she reached for her drink. Thoughtlessly, she downed the sweet liquid courage before he made it to the edge of the table.
"Can I buy you another?" he asked, motioning the waitress over to the table as he took a seat directly across from Emily.
"Looks like you're going to whether I want one or not." Emily breathed, forcing a smile and charm in her voice that she couldn't bring herself to feel.
"Don't be snotty ma'am." Matt scolded, not at all liking the condescension in the woman's soft accented voice. "If you didn't want me coming over here you wouldn't have spent the last half hour staring at me like I was a t-bone and you were a starving dog. Now be nice and drink your drink." He smiled as the waitress sat another glass in front of her, and two shots accompanied by a beer in front of him.
"I'm not a dog... But I am starving." Emily laughed taken aback by his abrasive words, though not at all surprised. "How's the food in this place."
"Honestly..." he said leaning across the table to whisper to her confidentially, "It's a heart attack waiting to happen, but very edible." He assured her. "If you like... I could take you somewhere that the food isn't so hazardous on your health." He offered.
"Don't bother." Emily laughed flipping through the three page laminated menu, knowing she'd need food on her stomach to absorb the alcohol she'd be drinking before the night was over.
"Fair enough..." Matt smiled amusedly. "But don't be crying to me in the morning when you have a stomach ache."
"In the morning?" She asked with a lifted brow, disturbed by his calm and even more so by his arrogance. "Don't count your chickens Mister." She said in a tone she hoped would sound flirtatious.
"I'm not counting anything." He said, sitting back quietly as she ordered a rare t-bone, to his amusement, with all the trimmings that accompanied the meal. He had to admit he was impressed to meet a woman that wasn't scared to eat for fear of ruining her figure.
"Im Matt Chasen" he said once again leaning across the table and resting on his elbows, interlocking his fingers together thoughtlessly.
"Your friend is looking lonely Matt." She jested, turning her attention to the man Matt had abandoned for her company. The fair haired man was surrounded with a gang of young eligible women, that didn't appear to her to be old enough to be in the bar legally.
"Yeah..." Matt laughed a slow drawn out agreeing word, not needing to turn to know that Brandon had surrounded himself with a flock of women. "I think that is the only reason he comes here."
"And your reason for coming here?" she questioned feigning interest.
