A means to an end.
He’s not my friend. Not my confidant.
I don’t owe him any benefit of the doubt.
Emaly frowns. “It’s not my place to say, but I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised if you get the chance to know him.”
This whole conversation is giving me whiplash. Why does she even care? Why would she want me to get to know her husband? So I won’t judgeher? So I won’t wonder why she stays with him? It’s none of my business.
“That’s the thing, Emaly.” My smile wavers as I sit straighter. “I don’t want to.”
She nods, looking down at her drink.
Did I upset her? I shouldn’t care, but I do.
Her sigh is light. “Okay. I just wanted to say that he’s a good guy. Not many people see the soft side of him like I do. Maybe not teddy bear soft but…” A tiny smile plays on her lips as her eyes brighten. “But more like a cute bear cub.”
Her comparison makes me snort before I can stop myself. “Sorry,” I apologize, covering my face when I see her grin. “I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”
She shrugs. “Like I said, Thomas is a mystery to a lot of people. But he’s transparent to those he lets get to know him.”
Well, that won’t be me. “We’ll only be working together for a short amount of time before he starts his season. Hopefully, my job will be done by then.”
She hums thoughtfully before reaching into her purse and pulling out a piece of paper and a pen. I watch curiously as she writes something down before sliding it to me. “If you decide you ever want to know more, that’s my number.Andhis.”
Her lips twitch upward as mine part in shock at the two lines of digits in front of me.
If Janel knew I got a client’s number, even indirectly, she wouldnotbe happy. God only knows what would happen if Cody found out. Although I haven’t seen him at work lately, I know he would use this to fuel his accusations that I got this case because I’m sleeping with Moskins.
Emaly slides off her seat and squeezes my arm once lightly. “It was nice formally meeting you, Winter. I’ll see you around.”
She says it so confidently, it makes me wonder where we’d possibly see each other.
Emaly starts walking away and stumbles slightly. I’m able to catch her arm to steady her, earning me an apologetic smile form her. “Sorry,” she says, squeezing her eyes shut. “Got up too quickly.”
Her voice sounds off, and her lips fight a frown as she rolls her shoulders, releases a deep breath, and rubs her temple.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
She nods, wetting her lips. “I will be” is the last thing she says to me.
She’s still rubbing her temple when she disappears from the coffee shop. I glance down at the paper, wondering what to do. Then, despite my better judgment, I slide it into my purse.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Moskins
Imust begoing deaf, because there’s no way I’m hearing her right. “Pardon—the fuck—me?” I ask my wife, staring skeptically at her.
Her smile is sheepish. “I finally told my parents I’m in town, so they want to have dinner. The four of us.”
The four of us. Together. This sounds like what my nightmares are made of.
I stop washing the dishes to give her my full attention. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I’m still on your dad’s shit list. Maybe you should go without me. Or tell them you have a headache.”
It isn’t like the last thing would be a lie. When she got home yesterday, she was so pale I knew she had one. She’d barely said two sentences before curling up in my bed with the lights off and windows blacked out. It’d been hours before she came out back to her usual self.
“I’m fine now,” she insists, brushing off the valid concern.
