“Says the guy who drove two hours to find the specific brand of chocolate his old lady likes,” Bones points out.
“That was one time?—”
“It was last week,” Mercy says smugly. “It was that time of the month, and I really appreciated it.”
The banter continues, easy and warm, and I realize this is what I’ve been missing in New York. This sense of community. Of family. Of belonging somewhere that didn’t have a competitive undercurrent that you have to constantly be on your guard from.
I catch Bones watching me, and he leans in close enough that only I can hear. “You good?”
“I’m really good,” I say, meaning it. “In fact, I’m pretty near perfect.”
15
EMMA
By the time we finish lunch, it’s almost one. My class starts at one-thirty, which means I need to leave Devil’s to get to the community center.
“I have to head out,” I tell Bones, starting to gather my things.
“OK. I’ll walk you,” he says immediately, standing and pulling out his wallet.
“You don’t have to?—”
“I want to. Weather’s nice. Construction site isn’t far past it.”
We say our goodbyes to the group, who are now debating what kind of dog Ginger and Tank should get—he wants a cavapoo, she wants a rottweiler—and head for the door.
We’re almost outside when the door opens and Stone walks in, a woman I haven’t met before right behind him.
I stop so fast Bones almost walks into me.
Stone and I have seen each other a handful of times since the morning he gave us his very reluctant blessing, but it’s still awkward. We’re both trying to figure out how to be father and daughter again after years of distance and resentment.
“Emma,” Stone says, surprise flickering across his face. “Hey.”
“Hi, Dad.” I glance at the woman, who’s standing slightly behind Stone. She’s beautiful, with long dark hair that she’s styled into a bun and dark brown eyes. She wears just a touch of makeup to enhance her natural features and dresses professionally in slacks and a blazer. But despite all that, they seem . . . close. “Care to introduce me to your lady friend?”
Dad’s face goes bright red. “She’s not—we’re not?—”
“I’m Josie,” she says, stepping forward with her hand extended and a slightly amused smile. “The club’s attorney. This is just a business lunch.”
“Right,” Dad says quickly. “Business. We’re going over some contract stuff for . . . business.”
“Yes. Club business,” Josie adds, but there’s a twinkle in her eye that makes me think this is more than just business, whether they’re admitting it or not.
“Uh-huh,” I say slowly, not buying it for a second. Stone’s ears are still red and Josie keeps looking at him like she’s trying not to laugh. “Well, nice to officially meet you, Josie.”
“You too. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“All good things, I hope?”
“Mostly.” She grins. “Though I did hear about that somersault move you used to get through the door. That was impressive.”
I laugh. “Desperate times.”
Dad clears his throat, clearly trying to regain his composure. “Speaking of desperate times—you gotten rid of that tracker yet?”
I should’ve known he’d bring it up. He’s mentioned it every time I’ve seen him since that morning in Bones’s apartment.
