Someone that’s scared the living daylights out of her.
“Tell me who he is.” I approach her slowly, my hands up. She cowers back like a wounded animal, and it shreds something in my chest. “I can help, Em. If you’re in trouble, I can help you.Pleaselet me help you.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not.”
I lean down until I can look her in the eyes. Her blue eyes are wide, shimmering. As I watch, a tear slips out, sliding down her cheek.
“You sure about that?” I keep my voice quiet. “Because you seem really fucking scared right now, Emilia.”
She’s petrified. And so am I.
I need to know what’s wrong.
Her fear is killing me.
She swipes a hand over her face. “I knew this was going to be a bad day.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” I say softly. “Whatever it is.”
The phone ringing makes us all jump. Emilia almost flattens herself against the wall.
We watch each other as Angelo picks it up. “Hello?”
Emilia’s eyes slide past me. I turn to see the older man’s face change, dropping into a scowl. “No. She left. It was unexpected. You want a job?”
She flinches back, and I hold up a hand, listening. I can’t hear the words on the other end. Only a low, male drone.
“How would I know?” he snaps. “She left me with orders to complete. She mentioned Oregon. Maybe Seattle. But she didn’t leave an address.”
Both places miles away from here.
He doesn’t say anything else before he replaces the phone. But his face softens as he looks at Emilia. “He put the phone down. But he thinks you are gone. He said he would try Oregon.”
A flicker of something. Disbelief. “He said that?”
Angelo nods. “He sounded annoyed.”
I can see how badly she wants to believe it. “Thanks, Angelo.”
Who the fuck is this guy?
“Don’t thank me,” he mutters. “We do have outstanding orders.”
But he watches her carefully, concern creasing the corners of his eyes. Emilia nods, swallowing. Her eyes flicker to me and away. “I need to get back to work.”
“I’ll wait.” There’s no question in my voice as I fold my arms. “You’re not walking out of here by yourself. I won’t ask questions if you don’t want to talk. But donotask me to walk out of here and leave you.”
“He can stay,” Angelo pipes in. “Free help.”
She looks between us both. Still pale. Still scared.
Then she loosens a breath. “Fine.”
44
Emmy
Jared works beside me in silence. Angelo stands beside him, pointing out the many errors in his shoddy paper bouquet. He refused to trust him with real flowers. “Not that way. No. That way is worse.”
