Page 26 of The Emma Special

Daniel: Fish won’t be biting that late.

James: You can go whenever you want. I’ll be there at eight.

Daniel: And you wonder why you never catch anything.

An hour later, the office chat dinged on his monitor. A message waited from Emma.

Emma: You’re in luck. My schedule is clear tonight. The tacos were delicious. Thanks again.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of paperwork. The judicial system still hadn’t stepped into the twenty-first century and gone digital. The amount of paper required for a simple trial was unacceptable. Thankfully, Florence had set up a fantastic recycling system and they kept the local shredding company in business.

A gentle knock on his office door pulled him from the transcript on the screen. Emma stood in the doorway with her hands clasped behind her back. Her light-pink blouse brought out the blue in her eyes. She’d pulled her blonde hair into a high ponytail that made her look ready for adventure.

“You ready, boss?”

Ready? Ready for what?

Oh. They were working late, right.

“Yeah. Let me gather a few things, and I’ll meet you in the copy room.”

“You want some fresh coffee?” She danced a little shoulder-shimmy as if offering him an extra-special drink.

At least she realized how ridiculous Mr. Anderson sounded when he wanted a new pot brewed every hour. “Please?”

“Comin’ right up.” She skipped down the hallway like a kid.

Working late wasn’t going to be so bad this time. Emma made even the worst jobs bearable.

The warm smell of coffee sent a jolt through his system as he stepped into the copy room. Emma handed him a steaming mug after he put the stack of papers on the counter.

He let the first sip slide down his throat and hummed. “This is amazing. What kind of coffee did you use?”

She propped her hip against the counter. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

“Around here, we call that murder.”

Emma spread her hands with a shrug.

“It’s frowned upon.”

She made a small hmm sound in her throat. “Guess I won’t tell you, then.”

“Top secret. Got it.”

Emma waved a hand at the stack of papers. It had to be at least two feet tall. “Is this what we’re doing?”

“This is part one. We’ll be making twelve copies.”

Emma almost sloshed her drink over the rim of her mug. “Are you serious? How many trees have to die for this trial?”

“Unfortunately, quite a few.”

“This is why everyone hates lawyers.”

“Woah, there. If you get to know some of us⁠—”

“Speaking of trials. What was your mom talking about Primrose Valley High? Did you really run the spotlight for Charlie Brown? Speak, friend. Why didn’t I know you?”