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Emmett: Tales from New London, #2
Emmett: Tales from New London, #2
Emmett: Tales from New London, #2
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Emmett: Tales from New London, #2

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Emmett Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and… a bit of an idiot.

 

Gigi Knightley's life has revolved around Emmett Woodhouse, one way or another, since they were babies. As his best friend, confidant, and trusted advisor in the field of wing-manning, Gigi is by his side and ready to help. They're always there for each other. They tell each other everything.

 

Except one thing: Gigi is determined to never admit that she's in love with him. Why would she? He doesn't date.

 

Emmett galivants through their social circles, matching couple after couple. Some pair perfectly together, but others… Well, Emmett lets his ego get in the way of true love a time or two. And he's always been blind when it comes to Gigi.

 

Between the annoyingly perfect Jacob Fairfax, the enigmatic Frank Churchill, and the cunning Penelope Elton, Emmett's heart is in the right place, but his head is easily distracted. Emmett and Gigi's relationship will be tested again and again in this fresh, funny, heartfelt retelling of Jane Austen's Emma.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateApr 27, 2023
ISBN9781959036456
Emmett: Tales from New London, #2

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    Book preview

    Emmett - J Anne Campanile

    Emmett

    Tales from New London, Book 2

    J ANNE CAMPANILE

    CHAMPAGNE BOOK GROUP

    Emmett

    This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

    Published by Champagne Book Group

    712 SE Winchell Drive, Depoe Bay OR 97341 U.S.A.

    ~~~

    First Edition 2023

    eISBN: 978-1-959036-45-6

    Copyright © 2023 J Anne Campanile All rights reserved.

    Cover Art by Melody Pond

    Champagne Book Group supports copyright which encourages creativity and diverse voices, creates a rich culture, and promotes free speech. Thank you for complying by not scanning, uploading, and distributing this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher. Your purchase of an authorized electronic edition supports the author’s rights and hard work and allows Champagne Book Group to continue to bring readers fiction at its finest.

    www.champagnebooks.com

    Version_1

    To Quiana, Emmett’s first cheerleader.

    May our himbos never stop being pure

    of heart, broad of chest, or dumb of ass.

    Chapter One

    The first day of summer started like every other: with me trying to talk Emmett Woodhouse out of doing something I was positive he’d regret.

    Emmett, I get this is your thing, but do you really think Cassie Weston is a good idea?

    I tied my long blonde hair into a loose ponytail, pressing my back against the bay window. Emmett sat on the hardwood floor in front of me, resting his head against my knees. From my view over him, all I could see was his messy black hair and the top of his phone. I couldn’t read anything on the screen.

    He did what he always did when I was right: he ignored me and kept typing. Gigi, you’ve got to have more faith in me. Anthony is great. Cassie is great. They’ll click. Have I been wrong about a setup yet?

    My best friend, the matchmaker and hookup expert (his words), was hard to convince. Truth be told, he was right—he hadn’t been wrong yet about anyone he had helped. The summer before seventh grade, five years ago, he started matching people. He’d give nudges and hints to the right people, set up happy accidents and sparks. Emmett got the ball rolling on great summer flings, Valentines’ and Prom dates, and even years-long relationships.

    His first match, according to him, was setting up my old babysitter and friend, Janie, with his older brother, Isaac. They were still dating now, almost done with college. Emmett was good at what he did. He rarely made mistakes.

    He was also missing the point.

    I’m not saying they’re not a good fit, but Cassie can’t be ready to date right now, I said.

    Sure she is, he said. Give me one good reason why she wouldn’t be.

    She just broke up with Frank. Everyone loved Frank Churchill, the wildcard theater kid at New London High, but no one was more distraught when he transferred to private school in New York than Cassie. She lost her best friend, who for a time was also her boyfriend.

    They’re still friends, he said. "Hear me out. Some people want summer flings, and I’ll set plenty of those up. Some people want a boyfriend by the time the school year starts, and that’s a problem for Future Me. But Cassie? She’s looking for something serious. Think about it. Senior year is hitting her, and she’s realizing the fun and games are going to be over before she can blink.

    Why else would she date her best friend, especially in a long-distance relationship? She and Frank go way back. They basically grew up together. She wanted to figure out if they were a good fit, and guess what? They weren’t. But now they’ve broken up, they’re still on good terms, and she’s single again. Which means… He tilted his head back, his dark brown eyes meeting mine with an expectantly raised eyebrow.

    According to you, this is the perfect time. I had to add the first part so he wouldn’t think I agreed with him.

    My phone buzzed, and I opened it. An Instagram notification, saying Emmett had tagged me in a post. I opened it, not wanting to go into his scheming blind. He never posted without good reason. He tagged people, he set things in motion, and he made plans. Usually, those plans included me.

    A group picture, from Penelope’s party last year, with Cassie, Anthony, Emmett, and me, as well as a few other people in our class. The caption read: excited for the bash tonight. Thanks @PennElton for a great end to the school year ;) @GigiKnightley @TonyTurner @WestonWrites

    Subtle, I said dryly.

    Emmett grinned. You can be subtle with some people. Then there’s Anthony.

    Maybe you’re right about Cassie wanting something serious, I said. But it has to be too soon. I mean, you remember Charlie Bingley, right?

    At the mention of her name, Emmett perked up. Charlie had transferred to New London High at the beginning of last semester, which was weird. She was a senior, and no one jumped schools so late into high school without reason. Something big must have happened.

    Naturally, Emmett had to learn everything he could. He made himself a part of her social circle, which didn’t extend far beyond the three of us. Charlie liked his bubbly, outgoing personality, and she needed the distraction, because she’d just gone through a messy breakup. She wasn’t ready for something new, and even he didn’t dare try setting her up. But they did become friends, even if they weren’t close.

    What about her? he asked.

    It’s the same situation, I said, and he scoffed. Tell me I’m wrong.

    You’re wrong. He had barely let me finish my sentence. Charlie made a mistake, breaking up with John, and she’s lucky it wasn’t too late to fix things, because they’re made for each other. But Cassie and Frank? Not the same. Not even close. They’re still friends. It didn’t work, and now Cassie needs something that will. If I don’t move soon, she’s going to end up in another dead-end relationship.

    I rolled my eyes. Because clearly, Cassie can’t make the right choice for herself.

    Most people don’t. He smirked. Lucky for most people, I’m good at what I do.

    I couldn’t pretend I understood why Emmett liked matchmaking so much. It wasn’t like he got paid to set up dates. He didn’t get special treatment or favors for wingmanning. The only thing he got out of it was another success. Another happy couple. Another time he read someone’s heart right.

    I’d never admit it to his face, but it was something I loved about him.

    Emmett could spot the things that made people tick, the passions that got them out of bed in the morning. He could ferret out the common ground between two people they might never have bonded through on their own. Matches were made based on a love of reading, of cooking, of volunteering.

    On the fringes of every social circle, including our volunteer group Highbury Outreach, he always seemed to be in the right place at the right time. His knack for reading people and leading them to each other was a bit magical.

    The trouble was, he was perfectly aware of his skill. And his ego was huge.

    More notifications popped up on my phone, so I had to check them. A few of Emmett’s followers liked his post, replied and said they couldn’t wait for Penelope’s party, which was always great.

    I clicked the details to figure out who liked the post, and he whooped. Cassie just proved my point.

    Just because she liked your post doesn’t mean she’s going to marry Anthony, I said. ‘She got tagged in a picture. Of course she’s going to chime in."

    She wouldn’t have liked it if she didn’t like what was in it, Emmett said with a smug smile. "Anthony’s going to get that notification. She might as well have said, Hey, Anthony, I like you."

    Prove it, I said.

    I will. Tonight. And after you take me out for apology fro-yo, I’ll add another couple to my perfect record.

    Like many of my conversations with him, it left me dizzy, confused, and wondering how I ended up egging him on instead of talking him down. I didn’t want this whole thing to blow up in his face. I didn’t want to be proved right and hurt Anthony or Cassie in the process. They were both great people.

    Anthony had saved Emmett’s English 11 grade from a C- and brought it up to a B+. He was Emmett’s friend, mentor, and listening ear. Anthony loved to read, he loved his family, and he loved learning new things.

    We weren’t as good friends with Cassie, but everyone in Highbury knew each other to some degree. She was a founding member—a community activist, a poet, and a great cook, according to Frank’s Instagram.

    On paper, they were a great match. I just hoped Emmett wasn’t wrong about the timing.

    ~ * ~

    Somehow, in the three hours between his first post and leaving for the party, Emmett managed to agree to give both Cassie and Anthony a ride. For some reason, Emmett thought this was the perfect meet-cute, as long as I was riding shotgun. So, naturally, I sat in the back of his Prius.

    This earned me an annoyed eyeroll. Gigi Knightley, sometimes I wonder if your only goal in life is to sabotage my perfect plans.

    They’re strangers, Emmett, I said. I’m making it less awkward for everyone.

    It wasn’t like I was completely throwing his plan out the window, either. I sat behind the passenger’s seat, so if they wanted to talk, they could still face each other without being weird. It also gave them both an out if they needed it.

    We picked Cassie up first, who took shotgun and thanked Emmett for the ride, then half-turned to face me, flicking short waves of black hair away from her eyes. Her hair had been curled for the party, and basic makeup made her already beautiful blue eyes pop. She’d also dressed up a bit, ditching her usual leggings and graphic tees for mid-thigh shorts and an off-the-shoulder shirt.

    I glanced at my own paint-splattered jeans and band tee, suddenly self-conscious. The last thing she would do was make another girl feel bad about her own body, but she was the kind of beautiful who radiated. You couldn’t help but think about how you compared to her.

    Gigi! Just the person I wanted to talk to. A genuine smile lit up her face. "I need your opinion."

    Oh? I’m listening.

    We have seven projects next week, and there’s only like, twenty of us, she said. There’s no way we can pull this off.

    Talking shop already? Emmett’s grin reflected straight at me in the rear-view mirror. It’s going to be a long night.

    I waved him away and wrinkled my nose. Who, what, and when?

    New London Nature Club wants help for beach pickup, which is five people easy for a full day. The soup kitchen needs six people on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. The food bank needs as many as we’ll give them, the senior center wants afternoon volunteers… She blew out a big breath, running her hands through her hair. You get the picture. It’s a lot. We don’t have enough people, and I can’t take up everyone’s time.

    Well, we’ll be spread thin, but I think—

    Sounds like you need to recruit, Emmett butted in.

    We did a lot before school end, but it’s hard to sell volunteering when you’re competing with adventure clubs, family vacations, and summer camps. She let out a heavy sigh. I wish we had Jacob. He always does exactly the right thing.

    Emmett’s right eye twitched, and I couldn’t help but smirk. He and Jacob Fairfax had competed against each other for years, only Jacob had no idea. This didn’t stop him from beating Emmett in just about everything, according to my best friend.

    In our fifth grade play, we put on the Little Mermaid, and Emmett and Jacob both went for the role of Eric. Emmett made an adorable flounder.

    Frank Churchill, somehow, landed the role of Ariel. The parents loved him.

    Unfortunately, Jacob had left us for the summer. He’d be in Haiti until late July, volunteering with Habitat for Humanity.

    Who needs Jacob? Emmett scoffed. We’ve got this. It’s not too late to get more people.

    School ended yesterday, she said.

    So? Half the school is going to be at Penelope’s tonight.

    I rolled my eyes at his overstatement.

    Something to add, Georgiana?

    I tweaked at my full name. Emmett was really good at pushing my buttons, and I wished he wouldn’t do it so much. But I could dish it right back. Nothing, Emmett. It’s just, it’s too bad Jacob isn’t here. He’s a great recruiter.

    He scowled at the mirror, and I grinned back. After clearing his throat, he parked at Anthony’s house, typing on his phone. Don’t even sweat it, Cassie. By the end of the night, we’ll have plenty of people to manage all our projects.

    A moment later, the front door swung open, and Anthony jogged for the car. He spotted me in the back seat and moved to duck into the seat behind Emmett.

    Thanks, buddy, he said in a deep voice, clapping Emmett’s headrest.

    Anthony Turner was an All-American beauty—blond hair, gray-blue eyes, tall and lanky, with a dimpled smile. He wore cargo shorts and a dark T-shirt, and mussed his hair with gel. I glanced at the front seat, where Cassie admired the view.

    Anthony Turner, he said when he noticed her, holding out his fist.

    She gave him a fist-bump with a smile. Cassie. Cassie Weston.

    We were just talking about Cassie’s volunteer work, Emmett said at double volume. If I was sitting behind him, I would have kicked his seat. Highbury needs like, fifty more people. But I’m sure you’re too busy for—

    What? No way, Anthony said, still focused on her. It sounds awesome. What kind of volunteer stuff do you do?

    Oh, a bit of everything, she said with a dismissive tone, a smile fluttering on her lips. We’re really just extra hands for anyone who needs it.

    As they fell into conversation, her face lit up, and he listened intently. Even though they were just talking about Highbury, it felt like this intimate, private thing. I focused outside the window, carefully avoiding Emmett’s I told you so glances.

    When we reached the Eltons’ beach house, I jumped out. A second later, Emmett was at my side, muttering, I smell fro-yo.

    "They may be friendly, but it doesn’t mean they’re friendly," I whispered back. I glanced at Cassie and Anthony, walking side-by-side.

    Denial doesn’t look good on you, bestie, Emmett hummed.

    I followed him into the house, close on his heels. He went straight for the kitchen, which stood a short staircase up from the rest of the first floor. I filled a Solo cup from the beer keg.

    Oh no you don’t, he said, swiping it from my hands. You’re the designated driver.

    I am not! I cried, snatching for the cup. He didn’t try too hard to keep it, and I stole it back after a couple attempts. I was designated driver last time.

    Besides, I was going to need a good buzz to get through whatever else Emmett was up to. I doubted his plan ended at giving two people a ride. Even if Cassie and Anthony hit it off without him, Emmett would be working on his next match.

    He let out a long-suffering sigh. You’re impossible.

    With a smile, I pointed to the counter across from the keg, where several two-liter soda bottles had been set out. The kiddie drinks are over there. Besides, you’re working tonight, so you can thank me now.

    I drank deeply for a second, then stood on my toes to spot Anthony and Cassie. My four-foot eleven height wasn’t working in my favor. After failing to find them in the crowd, I decided to wander.

    The Eltons’ beach house was huge, and this wasn’t quite half the upcoming New London High senior class, but there must have been at least a hundred of us milling around the party. People circled up, playing games around the pool table, the couches, and for some reason, the coat closet.

    Outside, music blasted from the speakers on the property’s edges while people danced and lingered around the bonfire. If the Eltons had neighbors, they might have complained about the noise, but there wasn’t another house for at least a mile. Rumor had it that the Eltons owned the whole stretch of beach, but Penelope didn’t confirm or deny anything.

    Cassie and Anthony were roasting marshmallows at the bonfire, I discovered after a few minutes. He said something, and her face lit up in a laugh. A smile fought its way onto my lips.

    Okay, maybe Emmett was right. She and Anthony clicked. But what did she want from all this? Emmett was so sure the timing was right, but she and Frank had been serious. He came home from boarding school every weekend to take her on dates, go to Junior Prom, and help where he could with Highbury. Then, all of a sudden, they were over.

    He hadn’t come home for about a month now, but they still tagged each other in pictures and memes on Instagram, shared inside jokes, and acted like best friends. Was she hoping they’d get back together when he came home for the summer? His semester ended later than ours, and I could easily see a spark rekindling without long distance getting in their way.

    Watching Cassie and Anthony now, I started to doubt my theories.

    I ran out of beer all too quickly, so I braved the crowd inside and made it to the kitchen. Emmett had left by this point, so I didn’t linger. As soon as I filled my cup, I wandered again.

    My best friend was chatting up a guy I didn’t recognize, off to the side of the main room. He had curly brown hair, timid, soft features, and eyes darting to the side every now and then like he expected something to reach out and grab him.

    When Emmett spotted me, he threw his arm around my shoulders and roped me in. Gigi! Meet my new friend, Harry Smith.

    Hey. I smiled. Is this guy bothering you?

    What? No, not at all, Harry rushed to say. We were just talking about—oh, that was a joke. He cleared his throat. Sorry.

    We were just talking about summer volunteer work. Right? Emmett shot a confirming glance Harry’s way.

    Yeah, Highbury sounds cool, he said, offering a hesitant smile. I’d be into it.

    If Emmett was busy making good on his promise to Cassie, then maybe there would only be one match tonight. He kept hyping up Highbury, telling Harry about all the biggest projects we’d done. When Emmett over-exaggerated, I pinched his ribs, and he pursed his lips at me, but toned down the sales pitch.

    At some point during our conversation, a loud boom rattled outside. I jumped. My half-full beer cup sloshed around the edges, and I ducked under his arm, moving to the back doors. Rain pelted down on the party and everyone rushing to escape it.

    What? a familiar girl’s voice shrieked. "The forecast said no rain, I made sure of it!"

    Penelope Elton charged past me, grinding her teeth as she whipped outside. Her tumbles of red hair streaked behind her as she ran to save her speakers.

    As I peered through the window by the French doors, wondering if Cassie and Anthony had been caught in the downpour, I spotted them still by the bonfire. He spread his hands out above her in a desperate, chivalrous attempt to shield her from the freak storm, and he stumbled in the direction of the house. But she knocked his hands away, a laugh lighting up her face, and slipped her fingers through his. She pulled him close, and they started to dance.

    Chapter Two

    Throughout the night, Emmett made his rounds through the party. He was always the social butterfly at these things. As much grief as he’d given me earlier about who got to drink tonight, he was well aware I needed some social lubrication to get through a party.

    I liked them, really. I liked talking to people, seeing my friends, being part of the crowd. It was just easier when I didn’t have Sober Gigi on my shoulder, telling me to shut up and not say anything stupid.

    Emmett, on the other hand, was in his element. He didn’t need any help being sociable, and on the nights I was designated driver, I mostly kept to myself while he got even more excitable with a good buzz.

    After confirming everything was going well with Anthony and Cassie, Emmett’s main focus was recruiting. He wasn’t about to be one-upped by a hypothetical Jacob Fairfax. By the time he reached Penelope, Emmett had gotten ten other people to promise to join Highbury.

    There she is! Even the forces of nature can’t stop this girl from throwing a great party, he cried, roping her into a side-hug.

    A smug smile bloomed on Penelope’s face as he pulled back. Well, I’m just the best.

    So humble, too, he added with a laugh. Highbury needs your genius.

    She tilted her head, considering him, and I watched with some skepticism. He was persuasive, sure, but volunteer work wasn’t exactly Penelope’s thing. She didn’t get her hands dirty.

    Aww, is that your little volunteer club? she cooed. So cute. Isn’t he just a gem, Gigi?

    Her gaze landed on me, and I cleared my throat, trying not to shrink. Unlike Cassie, Penelope was the biggest presence in the room because she made it so. She was pretty—long waves of red hair, sharp green eyes, and eyebrows arching in a permanent question mark. She was tall, too, which didn’t make her any more approachable.

    He’s great, I said. He really cares about Highbury.

    Oh, of course. She pounced on my words. Adorable.

    Aww, shucks, you’re just sweet on me. Emmett beamed, the slightest bit of his Southern accent slipping through. He didn’t have one, not really, but sometimes his mother’s dialect rubbed off on him. You have to come volunteer with us this week. We’re doing all these great projects…

    He launched into a sales pitch of everything Cassie had told us and Anthony on the ride over.

    Penelope didn’t seem convinced, but she patted his arm. "I’m so busy with senior year coming up, of course. College applications, extracurriculars, you get how it is. But I’ll see if I can make time. For you."

    Her lips twisted into a suggestive smirk, and heat flared in my chest. I bit my tongue, tamping down those thoughts. I wasn’t so drunk I couldn’t keep myself in check, and Emmett would never go for a girl like Penelope. This was fine.

    Just because he wasn’t interested didn’t mean she wouldn’t try to change his mind.

    When he suddenly broke away from my side, I jumped. I hadn’t even realized their conversation was over, but there we were, seeking out his next target.

    What did you think? he asked.

    About what? I tilted my head.

    Penelope. The whole thing. She seems weird, right? he said.

    We stopped in the kitchen, where I refilled my beer cup. This was drink number three, and I needed to be careful at this point. I’d been switching off with water to keep the balanced buzz, but it didn’t take much to get me from tipsy to flat-out drunk. Sometimes I liked being a lightweight, other times I resented it. But my buzz was starting to fade, and it was time to refuel before Sober Gigi came back in full force.

    She seemed as much like herself as always, I said, while he poured himself a red cream soda.

    Nah, I think something’s different, he said, bringing the cup to his lips. When he pulled away, a mustache of red foam fringed his upper lip, and I giggled. Okay, maybe I wasn’t quite as sober as I thought.

    What’s different? I asked.

    She’s lonely, he said.

    I flashed back to the for you and hid my face in my cup for a moment. Maybe. Then it hit me. Wait. No.

    Why not? he said.

    Emmett, I could write a million-word essay on exactly how bad of an idea this is, but you wouldn’t read it, I said.

    "A million words? Of course

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