Emancipating Andie by Priscilla Glenn

“Emancipating Andie” 

By: Priscilla Glenn

To be released March 2013.

Ever since the one time Andie Weber threw caution to the wind – and paid the price for it – she’s learned that it’s safer and smarter to live life playing by the rules. Now she’s got a great apartment, a steady job, and a wonderful boyfriend in Colin; he’s sweet, stable, and essentially perfect – except maybe for the fact that his best friend is Chase.

Chase McGuire lives his carefree, unstructured life strictly for himself. Dripping sarcasm and oozing wit, he refuses to censor his feelings or opinions for anyone, making no apologies for either and wearing his abrasiveness like a badge of honor. No one has ever gotten under Andie’s skin the way Chase does – and vice versa.

So when Andie and Chase find themselves forced to take a two-day road trip together, they are already dreading an inevitable all-out war. But as the trip progresses, and the undeniable friction that has always defined their relationship slowly begins to wear away their preconceived notions of each other, Andie and Chase discover they both have a lot to learn about life, courage, happiness, and the age-old battle between logic and love.

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Snippet #1

Andie shook her head in amazement as she turned to walk back upstairs, stopping when she spotted a third doorway at the opposite end of the hall. What the hell, she thought. She’d already given in to her shameless snooping. When would she ever get to be in a house like this again?
She realized what it was before she even crossed the threshold: a wine cellar. “My God,” she said under her breath as she reached the doorway. It was practically the size of her apartment; the walls were floor to ceiling shelves full of bottles, and in the center of the room were several more independent shelves, filled to capacity. There had to be hundreds of bottles.

She stepped into the cellar in complete awe, her eyes fixed on the soaring shelves bordering the entire room, nearly tripping over something underfoot. Andie looked down to see a small wrought iron step-ladder on the floor next to the door, and as she lifted her eyes back up to the impossibly tall shelving, she bent to grab it, dragging it over to the nearest wall of wine.

Just as she was about to climb up and take a closer look, a loud slamming sound caused her to jump, and she whipped her head around to see the cellar door closed behind her.

“Crap,” she mumbled, stepping down off the stool. She walked back toward the door and twisted the handle.

Nothing.

Andie froze, her eyes widening for a second before pulling a bit more forcefully. “No,” she whispered, twisting the handle the other way and trying again. “No, no, no,” she begged, leaning back on her heels and grabbing the handle with both hands, yanking back with the full weight of her body. The substantial oak door didn’t budge. It didn’t even squeak. “Oh God, please no,” she whimpered to herself.

The voice came from behind her. “Well that sucks.”

She screamed before he’d even finished his sentence, whirling around and flattening herself up against the door.

Instead of being startled by the ear-piercing shriek that ripped from her throat, he seemed amused by it. The corners of his mouth curved up in a smile as his eyebrows lifted ever so slightly.

Andie felt the panic begin to swell in her chest. Locked in a cellar with a strange man at a party where she didn’t know anyone, where practically no one would be looking for her. Weren’t there scary movies that began this way? For all she knew, the room was probably soundproof. She felt a surge of adrenalin heat her veins as she kept her eyes on him, her back against the door.

“Did you think that was down there for show?” he asked, nodding toward the iron step stool she had dragged over to the shelves.

Andie brought her hand to her still thudding heart. “I…I didn’t know…I’m sorry,” she said, reaching behind her with her free hand and twisting the handle again. The uneasiness in her chest was beginning to mix with embarrassment. “How do we get out?”

He shrugged indifferently. “We wait. Someone will probably be down here any second now after that scream. Nice pipes, by the way,” he added with a smirk.

A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth. His lack of urgency bothered her. As did his flippant response. Not to mention the look he was giving her. It was a combination of amusement and condescension, that little smirk playing at his lips. He was dressed much more casually than anyone she’d seen so far upstairs: jeans and an open button down over a T-shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The cellar was too dim for her to pinpoint the color of his eyes, but she could tell they were light, and his hair, a sandy brown color, looked like it was in need of a cut; it flipped away from his forehead and the tops of his ears in little curls. As if he could read her mind, he ran his hand through it, tousling it in a way that made it look stylishly disheveled.

Whatever this guy was willing to do, waiting was not an option for her; there was no way she was going to sit in the wine cellar with this stranger until Colin came to rescue her and she had to fumble through some feeble explanation as to why she was in the wine cellar in the first place. She turned and twisted the handle again. This time, she pulled back on the door so hard that a guttural grunt escaped her lips, and she heard him laugh behind her.

Andie looked over her shoulder.  “A little help would be nice,” she said, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

“When that door sticks, you can’t open it from the inside. Hence the doorstop that someone chose to ignore.”

“Well excuse me for assuming a house like this would have functioning doors,” she snapped, irritated that he was mocking her. He didn’t even know her, for Christ’s sake.

He grinned at her.

Andie turned, balling up her fist and banging sharply on the door. The muted thudding rang through the space just as a dull ache shot up her arm, and she dropped her hand to her side, flexing her fingers.

“No one’s gonna hear that, and you’re gonna hurt your hand,” he said, the amusement prevailing over the concern in his voice. “And for the record, I have no medical training. Although there’s plenty of wine, so I guess we could just get you drunk enough so that you wouldn’t feel it.”

Ignoring his taunts, she turned around and used the flat of her other hand, banging again. Andie knew he was right; it was fruitless. No one would hear her and she probably would end up hurting her hand, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of conceding.

“If you’re in such a rush to get back to the party, why don’t you just use your phone and call someone upstairs?”

Yeah, she could just see how that conversation would go. “Hey Colin, it’s Andie. I locked myself in the wine cellar while I was snooping around your friend’s house. Can you come let me out?” She turned around, folding her arms. “If I had my phone with me, do you think I’d be standing here abusing my hands on this door?”

“Well I told you to stop, didn’t I?”

She shot him a look and he laughed again. “Relax. Trust me, someone will want more wine eventually,” he said, walking toward the first shelf in the middle of the room. He sat on the floor with his back against it, his feet wide apart and flat on the floor in front of him. He rested his elbows on his knees as he looked up at her.

“I’m Chase.”

Realizing that she very well might be trapped with him for a while, she figured it was probably in her best interest to at least attempt civility, even though he seemed determined to get under her skin.

“Andie,” she said before turning back toward the door and inspecting the doorknob, praying for some magic button that would set them free.

“Andie, huh? Interesting,” he said, and then after a beat, “Well, Andie, are you a friend of Justin’s? Or Stella’s?”

She turned to look at him, the confusion evident in her face.

He smiled slowly. “Justin and Stella? You know, the people who are hosting this party?”

“Oh. No…I don’t…I’m here with Colin Tate,” she added by way of explanation, turning back toward the door and examining the hinge, trying to remember anything she could about the show MacGyver.

“Colin’s here?”

Andie spun quickly to face him, her eyebrows raised. “You know him?”

“Of course I know him.”

Yes, definitely in her best interest to attempt civility.

“Oh.”

A silence filled the space between them, and he smiled, running his hand through his hair again. “So…you and Colin? You guys are a thing?”

With a resigned sigh she gave up, walking away from the door and over to one of the shelves against the wall, sitting cross legged in front of it. “Not a thing. We’re dating.”

“What’s the difference?”

Andie looked down with a shrug, feeling cautious since she had no idea how close he and Colin actually were. “It’s…new.”

“Ah. Haven’t decided if you’re gonna bang him and bail yet?”

She whipped her head up, an offended expression on her face, and he laughed, shifting his weight as he reached in his back pocket. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, tapping them against his palm and then glancing up at her from under his lashes as he held the pack out to her.

“No.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he held the pack to his mouth and removed a cigarette. “That’s rude, you know,” he said, the unlit cigarette wagging between his lips as he spoke.

“What is?” she scoffed. “Declining a cigarette?”

“No, that face you just made,” he said, pulling a lighter out of his pocket. “It’s like grimacing at someone’s food while they’re eating it.”

“Well if the food in question killed the person eating it, or anyone within breathing distance of it for that matter, then I’d say it’s perfectly acceptable to grimace.”

He chuckled again as he held the lighter to the end of his cigarette, taking a long pull until the flame caught and the tip glowed orange. He put the lighter back in his pocket as he lithely pulled the cigarette from his lips with his thumb and forefinger, locking eyes with her as he blew the smoke out the side of his mouth, sending it away from her. “Just don’t breathe over there and I’m pretty sure you’ll survive.”

Attempting civility was getting more and more difficult by the second.

“Is that your natural hair color?” he asked, and her eyes flashed to his as an incredulous laugh fell from her lips.

“You’re gonna lecture me about being rude and then follow it up with that?”

He shrugged, taking another drag of his cigarette. “It’s just an unusual combo. The blond hair with the brown eyes,” he clarified, exhaling the smoke away from her again.

He wasn’t the first person to say that to her, but he was definitely the first to preface it by questioning its authenticity. Andie looked up to see him watching her, waiting for an answer.

She sighed, shifting her weight on the hard floor. “My dad’s German and my mom’s Greek.”

“Good to know,” he said, “but that doesn’t answer my question.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, it’s my natural color, okay? My mom has black hair and brown eyes, and my dad is the blond haired, blue-eyed Nordic poster boy. Put them together and you get me,” she said, gesturing toward herself.  “Anything else you want to know?”

He laughed, and it annoyed her more than it should have that she couldn’t deter him. “Since you’re offering,” he said, “what are you doing down here?”

“Huh?”

He smiled. “I said, what are you doing down here? Why’d you come down to the wine cellar by yourself? The bar’s upstairs.”

“I was just…” she trailed off, looking back at the door, willing it to open with her mind.

“Just snooping?”

“What? No!” she said looking back at him, horrified. He was smirking at her, the cigarette dangling between his lips.

“Why are you down here?” she challenged.

He removed the cigarette from his mouth and held it up by way of explanation.

“You came down here to smoke? Shouldn’t you go outside for that? I’m sure the owners of the house wouldn’t appreciate what you’re doing.”

“Me and the owner of this house, whose name is Mitch by the way, used to sneak down here all the time for a smoke when I was in high school, since he was hiding it from his wife at the time. So yeah, I think he’d be fine with me grabbing a quick smoke down here. But I’m sure he’d appreciate your concern for his house.”

Andie grit her teeth together, looking away from him. She hated feeling stupid, and it seemed like, for whatever reason, it was his goal to make her feel that way. She couldn’t understand how this guy was a friend of Colin’s. Granted, she hadn’t known Colin long at all, but it just didn’t seem to fit.

“How do you know Colin?” she asked, trying to sound conversational instead of accusatory.

“We went to high school together. Played soccer together. We ran in the same circles.” He shrugged, blowing smoke out the side of is mouth. “You?”

“Me? Me what?”

“How do you know Colin?”

“Oh. I met him at a friend’s barbecue,” she said.

“And won him over with your easy-going charm?”

Andie glared at him as she stood, pacing in front of the shelf. “God, how long has it been?” she said, running both hands through her hair.

“Relax,” he said through laugh. “Here.” He shifted, reaching in his back pocket again.

“I said I didn’t want a cigarette.”

“I’m not giving you a cigarette, sweetheart.”

Andie whirled on him. Sweetheart? Before she could even react, he tossed something at her, and she brought her hands up quickly, fumbling with it for a second before she looked down and realized what it was.

A cell phone.

She should have been happy, but instead, she was furious. “You’ve had this the whole time?” she said, completely appalled. “Why the hell didn’t you give it to me before?”

He shrugged, flicking the ashes off his cigarette before he lifted his eyes to hers, the corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. “You were entertaining me.”

 

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