Page 24 of The Emma Special

There were definite similarities. James had his mother’s full lips, bright eyes, and dark brows, which was a true blessing considering his dad didn’t have any eyebrows or lashes to speak of. He was significantly taller, but with her fresh blowout, her hair added at least three inches to her frame.

Mrs. Moore opened her arms and wrapped him in a cheery hug. “I wanted to surprise my men.” She turned to the bored girl she’d dragged through the door. “I brought Liza Beth. She’ll be joining us for lunch.”

James extended a hand to Liza Beth. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you.” Did his smile look a little too forced?

“Meet you!” His mom rested her manicured hand over her heart as if her pearls might be ready for a good clutching. “Y’all’ve met plenty of times. James, this is Norma’s granddaughter.”

“Right.” James nodded at the woman with his mother. “Forgive me. Good to see you again.”

Was that a bead of sweat on his temple? Did Emma need to stage a fake emergency? She’d only known James for a few weeks, but he was giving off warning signs like the smoke detector whenever Katie tried to cook anything more complex than water. That forced smile painted across his face was starting to get creepy.

James’s mom stepped closer to Emma’s desk. “Son, you did not tell me that your new assistant was so young and beautiful.”

Okay. This woman could stay. James, on the other hand, who had never acknowledged her beauty, could go.

“Thank you, Mrs. Moore. You’re gorgeous yourself,” Emma said with a wink. “Hi, Liza Beth, nice to meet you too.”

“Hi,” Liza Beth answered, but her gaze was on the chandelier overhead. “That thing is mighty high. How do you clean that?”

“Shh-sh-shh, honey.” Mrs. Moore flapped a hand in between Emma and Liza Beth. “Emma does important work here. I’m sure Primrose Valley Cleaners deal with the lights.” Her bracelets clicked when she clapped her hands. “James, I just can’t with you today. You never once mentioned such a sweet looking girl was working here. Are you a paralegal, hun?”

“I’m an actress.” Emma loved to drop that little gem on people and watch them flubber for a minute. It helped soothe the sting of having nothing else to claim. It sure beat: I snagged this boring job for the insurance. Which is why she was completely surprised when Mrs. Moore’s face lit up—proving it was possible for her smile to get even bigger.

“Oh, I love you already,” exclaimed Mrs. Moore. “James was in theater club at Primrose Valley High. Maybe you two knew each other already. He used to come home from⁠—”

“Ready to go, Mom?” James rocked slightly on his heels with hands in his pockets. “Emma’s got a lot to do today. We don’t want her to get in trouble with Mr. Anderson on our account.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Emma. Oh! You’re that Emma. Emma Glass. I remember you! You were that darling performer James’s senior year. This is just wonderful. You’re a Good Man Charlie Brown. That’s the one. You were Sally, weren’t you? James was a spotlight operator, designed set, and programmed the lightboard. We heard all about you that semester and saw you in the show.” She rounded on James with eyebrows dipped. “Why didn’t you mention Florence hired an old friend of yours?”

Emma cocked her head. What was his mom talking about? She’d never worked on set with James.

James glanced at Emma, and his discomfort seemed to reach a new peak. Red splotched his neck, and another bead of sweat joined the one already on his temple. “I’m sure Emma has lots of work to do, so we’d best be⁠—”

Mr. Moore, Sr. strode into the lobby and pecked a kiss on his wife’s cheek. “How long have you been here? Emily should have buzzed me.”

“It’s Emma,” James corrected.

Mr. Moore looked at Emma for the first time since Florence introduced them. “Oh. I’m sorry. Forgive my mistake.”

“No problem. Y’all have a lovely lunch. I’ll hold down the fort.” Emma propped her hand on the desk and leaned into it.

Mr. Moore slipped an arm around his wife’s waist and guided her toward the door.

Mrs. Moore waved a hand above her head at Emma. “We’ll be back soon, hun!” She pulled Liza Beth close and turned to her husband. “Jim, you remember Liza Beth, Norma’s granddaughter.”

James inhaled a breath that swelled his chest, then followed his parents and the girl his mom clearly intended to set him up with over a matchmaking lunch. Good luck, Liza.

Chapter 8

James Is Sorry

James gripped the bag in his right hand. Thanks to his mom, he was scheduled to have an uncomfortable conversation with Emma.

Her smile greeted him as he stepped through the front door. No wonder she’d charmed his mother in less than two minutes.

“Welcome back, Mr. Moore. How was lunch?”

He set the bag on her desk. “I’m sorry about that.”