I signal the bartender. "Two beers."
"Emmett."
I pull out my phone and show her the texts from Thanksgiving night. She reads them and her expression shifts.
"Oh, Em."
"Yeah."
"She's scared."
"I know that."
"No, I mean really scared. Look at what she said. She can't blow up her life. Her brothers are right there." She gestures back to the table where Pierre is laughing at something Sully said. "She works for your team. If this goes wrong, she loses everything."
"I wouldn't let that happen. I'd protect her."
"I know you would. But she doesn't." She hands my phone back. "You also can't promise that because you don't know what will happen. The consequences of everyone's actions. You both have a lot on the line here."
"So, what do I do?"
"Maybe patience is what's needed. You keep building on what you have until she feels safe enough."
"I'm not great with patience."
"I know. But maybe this time you don't have a choice." She pats me on the back, then her eyes shift past me. "Oh, there's Joelle. Jo! Come here for a sec!"
My stomach drops.
Joelle appears, looking confused. "Hey?"
"I was just telling Em how much I enjoyed Thanksgiving. That turkey was incredible."
"Oh. Thanks." Joelle glances at me, then away.
"You need to teach him to cook sometime. Em's hopeless in the kitchen." Ember grins, way too pleased with herself.
“Um, from what he’s told me, he can cook. He did cooking classes in Europe with his cousin,” Joelle explains.
“He did?” Ember asks.
“Yeah, with Lincoln. I learnt a few things.”
My sister stares at me. “Then why the hell have you never used these skills?”
“Didn’t say I was good.”
My sister shakes her head. "Well, I need to get back to the table. Sully's probably eaten all the pretzels by now. Can you grab those beers?" She asks me. I nod. She walks away, leaving us standing there alone at the bar.
"Your sister is ..." Joelle starts.
"Annoying. I know."
"I was going to say meddling."
"That too."
The bartender sets down the beers, I grab them both. There’s awkward silence.
