“Well, he should. It was perfect.” She takes another sip of coffee. “The whole experience was just... I don’t know. It felt special. You’ve built something really lovely there.”
“We try. It’s been a lot of work getting it where we want it, but it’s worth it when people enjoy themselves.” I look down at my coffee, feeling oddly exposed by the compliment.
Is she flirting with me? No. She’s just being friendly and I’m reading into it because I haven’t gotten laid in forever and my body has apparently decided this redhead is the answer to all my problems.
She laughs, and it’s light and warm. “Well, you’re definitely succeeding. My sister was ready to move here just for the food.”
She leans back and hops up onto the counter behind her, settling there with her legs dangling, ankles crossed. Despite the coffee, my throat feels dry at the sight of her sitting there, the hem of those shorts riding up even higher on her thighs. I barely know this woman. I have no idea why she has such a pull on me. I want to brush it off as pure physical attraction—it’s been long enough that anyone would get me going—but it feelslike more than that each time I see her. She’s smart and funny and lights up when she talks about teaching, and that combination is dangerous.
“So, uh, how’s teaching going?” I ask.
She tucks a strand of red hair behind her ear and tilts her head. “Really good. I mean, it’s hard, harder than I expected, but I still love it. At the end of the day I feel like I’m doing something that matters, you know? And even when the kids make me crazy, the good moments make it all worth it.”
I lean back against the opposite counter, putting some much-needed distance between us. “I know I’ve said it before, but Chloe really does talk about you constantly. I’ve never seen her this excited about school. I mean it.”
“Don’t make me cry,” she laughs, and her whole face lights up. “Honestly, she reminds me a bit of myself at that age. Just this ball of curiosity and energy. I want to make sure she stays that way, you know? That she doesn’t lose that spark.”
I take another sip of coffee. “ She needs that sometimes. Someone who gets her.”
“She’s easy to get.” Emma’s voice goes softer. “I remember the first time I met her. She was wearing this race car t-shirt and I talked to her in way too much of a little kid voice—like, ‘oh, I love your little race car, are you a NASCAR fan?’” She pitches her voice up in imitation, then laughs. “And she gave me thislook, then literally put her hand on my arm and said, ‘Thank you for trying, but this is a Ferrari SF-24, and it’s Formula 1. They’re not even close to the same thing.’ Then she patted my arm and walked away.”
I nearly choke on my coffee. “Oh no. I’m sorry. She can be blunt sometimes without meaning to be rude. She’s very serious about her racing knowledge. And her uncle does drive for Ferrari.”
She grins. “No, it was hilarious, and she’s since told me about her uncle Jack. It was honestly really adorable. Anyway, Chloe talks to me about Formula 1 enough now that I actually have adecent understanding of it. I love that she’s super opinionated and isn’t shy about sharing. And she’s always polite. Or shetriesto be.”
I shake my head, smiling. “Good. I love that about her too. Though sometimes I have to remind her about please and thank you.”
She waves it off. “Kids are like that. They all forget sometimes. But you can tell she’s a sweetie even when she forgets.”
“What made you want to be a teacher, if you don’t mind me asking?” I set my mug down on the counter. “You mentioned something about a family business when we first met?”
She looks down at her coffee, her expression shifting. “Yeah, my family runs this big tech company based out of Seattle. Educational app for kids. My parents started it ages ago because they wanted to create something beneficial for children, you know? The world was becoming so tech-oriented and they wanted to put something good out there.” She pauses, shifts her weight. “But it’s just... it’s not what it was anymore.”
“Sorry,” I say, sensing I’ve hit a nerve. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
“No, you’re not prying.” She looks back up at me. “My mom died from cancer, and since then the company has kind of lost its way. My three older sisters started shifting the app away from the original educational mission. More focus on user retention and profit. It just kind of… lost all of its heart.”
“I’m sorry. About both of those things.” The words feel inadequate. “I lost both of my parents, so I know how hard that kind of grief is. And having to fight your own family over their legacy on top of that sounds exhausting.”
She offers a small smile. “Yeah, it’s been difficult. Enough years have passed since my mom died that I can talk about it without it feeling so raw, but it was really hard. My dad’s still around, but he and my mom had this really ugly divorce before she got sick, so he’s pretty removed from everything. My sisters hold the majority stakes in the company. I have shares too, but not enough to outvote them when they all agree on something.”She lets out a breath. “Oh, sorry. I’m rambling about family drama and all you asked is why I wanted to teach.”
I set my mug down and look at her. “No, please don’t apologize. I asked because I wanted to know. You don’t have to edit yourself with me.”
She seems to relax a little at that, and I realize I meant it. I want to know everything about her: her family, her past, what makes her light up, what keeps her awake at night. That realization should probably worry me more than it does.
“Well, to answer your actual question,” she says, tucking her feet up under her on the counter in a way that makes her look impossibly young and comfortable, “I’ve always just loved kids. Both my parents had education backgrounds before they started the company, so teaching was always on my mind. I think they wanted me to take on a bigger role eventually, maybe overseeing educational content within the company, affecting millions of kids worldwide. But I was always drawn to the classroom side of things. Being with kids one on one, seeing them learn and grow right in front of you.”
“That makes sense,” I say. “It sounds like you walked away from a lot to do what you actually love. That takes a lot of bravery. And teaching is really meaningful work.”
“I think so too.” Her face lights up again, and I find myself leaning in slightly just to be closer to that warmth. “For me, anyway. I know my sister Sophie would not find meaning in it.”
I laugh. “I take it she’s not the elementary school teacher type.”
“God, no.” Emma grins. “She loves kids in theory—like, she’ll spoil them rotten and then hand them back. But spending eight hours a day with twenty-five first graders would be her personal nightmare. She doesn’t completely understand why I moved out here, but she supports it. And I get it, the pay is terrible and I’ve already spent half my salary on classroom supplies.” She shrugs, completely unbothered. “But it feels right. Like this is what I’m supposed to be doing. You know?”
I nod, because I do know. It’s how I feel about Dark River, about the restaurant, about building something that matters. “I know exactly what you mean.”
I take another sip of coffee, watching the way she gestures when she talks, how animated she gets. There’s something magnetic about her enthusiasm, this genuine passion that radiates off her, and I have to remind myself again why this is a bad idea. But I could list reasons all day and it still wouldn’t change the fact that I want to keep standing in her kitchen listening to her talk about anything at all.
