Page 32 of The Emma Special

James slid the next exhibit into the copier tray. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to distract you.”

Hours later, Emma closed the last binder and let out a deep, drawn-out sigh that came from the marrow of her bones. “Finished.”

“We did it. Wow. And it’s only—” James checked his watch. “It’s only midnight.”

Emma gasped and whirled to James. “Midnight! Oh no! I must go!”

James reached for her arm, holding her firm enough to keep her steady but not tight enough to harm. “Emma, what’s wrong?”

“I…” She swayed, resting the back of her free hand against her forehead. “I’ll turn back into a peasant!”

James’s hand fell from her arm. “Don’t do that to me! I thought something was wrong.”

The laughter came easily as she sucked in half breaths. “I’ve still got it. You were sold!”

He gathered a stack of heavy binders and headed out of the room, shaking his head. “Now I know why you put on such a good performance all those years ago. Why don’t you find your shoes so we can get out of here? I’ll take you home.”

“I—” Emma hefted a couple of the four-inch binders. It was either take James’s offer or ask Katie to come get her in the middle of the night. While she’d accepted a ride from James before, it had never been after the streets were rolled up.

Once her shoes were located and back on her aching feet, she found James in his office shutting things down. A playful smile lit his face despite the late hour.

“What’s got you in a good mood?” Emma asked, leaning against the door frame.

“You got me.” He shook his head. “I really thought you needed to be home by midnight.”

She gave a deep curtsy.

The heart-stopping grin remained as he rounded the desk. With his attention on her, he closed the distance until he was right in front of her, gazing into her eyes as if he liked what he saw.

He pressed his lips together and let out a huff. “I’m going to get another cup of coffee before we leave. You want some?”

Sigh. He doesn’t want you. He wants a drink.

“Coffee? At this hour?” she asked.

He shrugged one shoulder and moved around her. “It’s better than what I have at home. Caffeine doesn’t keep me up anymore. The warm drink settles me, and I need to wind down if I’m going to meet my friend at daylight to fish.”

She followed him down the hallway. “You want the regular stuff or The Emma Special?”

“I can make it. Wait, what’s The Emma Special?”

She opened a cabinet and reached onto her toes to push aside a few red cans of coffee grounds. When she’d found it, she let out a “Whoop!”

“You hide special coffee?” James asked.

“It’s for you.” She cupped a hand beside her mouth to whisper, “The others get the boring stuff.”

She pulled out the pot and filled it with water. After she’d scooped the grounds into a French press, he swiped the bag from her hand.

“Beauty and the Brew?” he read from the label.

“It’s from Brews and Books. This one is my favorite. Pricey, but worth it. It’s a medium roast with a hint of macadamia nut.” She pressed her fingertips to her lips and smacked. “Chef’s kiss.”

“I was wondering why the coffee tasted so good. You give me French press coffee, and the others⁠—”

“Are chopped liver. Not a single person has ever thanked me for a cup of coffee except you. So, you get The Emma Special. Want me to show you how I make it?”

“Please. The coffee has been phenomenal the past couple weeks.” James stepped aside as she showed him step by step how she put together the perfect cup.