I exhale. “Don’t worry about him. I’ve got it covered.”
She rakes me up and down. “You have a plan?”
“Yes,” I say grimly. “I’ll let you know when it’s time. I’m going to need you.”
“I like you about twenty percent more than I did.” She taps the PA system. “Emmy, we have a cream situation in the lobby. Please come see him.”
Jasper cocks his head. “‘Cream’？ What’s she talking about?”
“Long story that I don’t—” My words come to a halt as Emmy approaches us in a white silk blouse and a black pencil skirt with heels. She’s talking with one of the firemen as they come from upstairs. My iguana bangle encircles her arm. Her hair falls in loose waves and hangs around her face. Her makeup is dramatic, with arched brows and pouty lips. And she is . . .
“Fucking hot,” Jasper murmurs from next to me, and a buzz of irritation hits.
“That’s my wife you’re drooling over. Stop.”
He holds his hands up. “Just saying. If things don’t work out between you two—”
Jane’s voice cuts like a knife. “Of course it will work out. It’s Emmy. She wouldn’t commit unless she means it with her whole heart.”
Magic struts behind her like a king, then detours and jumps behind the counter with Jane and surveys the customers with beady eyes.
I stick my hands in my shorts pockets and walk to meet Emmy as she shakes the fireman’s hand. He flirts with her, an older guy with scruff and a bit of a belly. She laughs with him, but I see shadows under her eyes, as if she hasn’t slept much. The fireman walks away, and she turns to the people at the end of the checkout line, explaining how they’re short staffed and missing one of their registers. She offers them a free coffee with their purchases.
She turns around, and I’m there.
A long exhale comes from my lips. It’s been too long. I should have come back earlier.
“Hi,” I say, my tone soft as I study her features. “It’s good to see you.”
A blush rises up her cheeks. “Hi.”
“You look short staffed. What can I do?”
She blows out a long breath. “Everything that could go wrong, went wrong this morning. The firemen just cleared out. A little girl locked herself in the bathroom. Her mom said she was epileptic, so I called the fire department to rush things along. They broke the lock, and the little girl is fine.”
“Good.”
“Plus, there’s a leak in the basement.” Worry flits over her features. “My shark was in the basement, and it’s ruined.”
“Show me.”
We get on the elevator, and when it opens to the basement, I see the problem. A leak from a pipe has spilled onto a large worktable in the corner of the room. Water is under and on top of the table. Art supplies are soaked.
“We had a beautiful giant papier-mâché shark for the window. One of the sinks in the kitchen leaked, and this is the issue.” She explains how she’s already shut the water off for that sink.
“I have nothing to display to the Times when they come tomorrow. My brain is done with this day, and I . . .” She sways on her feet as she puts a hand to her chest.
I catch her and hold her into my arms. “Emmy! Are you okay?”
Her throat moves as she inhales deep breaths. “Fine. Just super-early mornings and late nights.”
I search her green eyes, not letting her out of my grasp, but then she isn’t pulling away either. “So you need a new display? You can’t just set the mannequins back up?”
“It needs to be new. We were going to make an ocean and hang the shark about midway up. Our books were Jaws and nonfiction titles about great whites. The art girl I use and I planned it for weeks.” She rubs her temple. “Guess you saw the mannequins getting freaky?”
“Horny mannequins. Trying to have sex in front of customers.”
A small smile crosses her lips. “I’m glad you’re back.” She leans her head on my chest, her curves against my muscles, and I squeeze her a little tighter, resting my chin on her head. “How was camp?” she asks, anxiousness evident in her tone.
“We did some scrimmages with the Falcons, took a few classes, worked with our coaches.”
She quiets for a few moments; then: “Did you get hurt? Any headaches or dizziness?”
“Training is gentle. We don’t roughhouse. We’re just getting ready, and no one wants to injure another player.”