Page 57 of The Emma Special

Emma lifted her china cup.

“We’re having a casual family dinner. All three boys will be there. It will be lopsided if James doesn’t bring someone.”

“I appreciate the invitation, but I just couldn’t.”

“There’s nothing I can say to convince you?”

“I’m sorry, Sharon.” Emma stiffened her spine. She could act her way through this plate of chocolate that was beginning to turn her stomach. Katie shouldn’t have brought her here. If only she’d had time to drive her home so she could fall apart without an audience.

Comparison was always the enemy. Thinking about what she didn’t have wouldn’t change her reality. Emma didn’t have James for a friend. Not after their fight last night and Emma’s mistakes at the office. Sharon would realize that by tomorrow and regret her invitation.

Spending time with Sharon was only a painful reminder of how different Emma’s life was. Sharon’s scheming to get Emma and James together would embarrass the woman after she’d had time to talk with her family about what had happened.

The best thing Emma could do at the moment was keep her mask tied on. Answer politely. Nod and smile at the right times. Pick at the food in front of her until this angelic woman eventually clued in that Emma was a lost cause.

Chapter 16

James Will Fix It

James stared at the comic from Emma while his chest threatened to cave in. An ink drawing of a tall man wearing a fitted suit that was meant to be him stood in front of a courtroom filled with cheering people. The caption at the bottom read, “Mr. Anderson has slain his thousands and Jamesy Boy his tens of thousands!” Below that, written in Emma’s curlicue cursive handwriting were two small words.

I’m sorry.

He’d ruined everything. Why didn’t it occur to him she’d leave immediately? In the moment she needed him most, he’d panicked. His brain had taken a very ill-timed lunch break, and he’d treated her like an employee instead of a friend.

Now, he didn’t have either.

He reached for his phone and found her contact. His hands shook as the call went straight to voicemail.

“Hey! You’ve reached Emma’s voice. Psst, I didn’t answer the phone. This is a recording! I bet you wish I had. I know! Me too, friend. Because now all you have is this terribly annoying situation where you need to speak to me and all you get is this one-sided conversation. Here’s what you’re going to do. Hang up and send me a text or an email because the odds that I’m ever going to listen to your voicemail are pretty Slim Jim. Until you decide to put down the phone, I would love to keep you company. Did you know that in Australia⁠—”

He ended the call and tossed the phone onto a stack of files on his desk. He needed to talk to Emma. If he could just hear her voice—well, her real voice, not a peppy, manufactured recording—everything would be better.

Then, he’d sleep for a week. He dropped his head directly on his desk and closed his eyes. She’d consumed his every thought since she walked out of the building yesterday, and he hadn’t experienced a moment of peace. How could he when the only thing he could see when he closed his eyes was the look on her face right before she ran away from him?

Three quick knocks rapped on his office door, and it took everything he had to lift his head. “Come in.”

His mom strode into the room clutching the strap of her floral purse. She closed the door behind her and whirled to face him.

“James Lincoln Moore, Jr., are you coming to dinner on Friday?”

James let his head rest in his hands. He couldn’t deal with a family dinner when Emma still hadn’t answered his calls. “I think I’ll skip this one.”

His mom stalked to the chair directly across from his desk and flared her purple dress out as she sat. “No, I don’t think you will. Harrison and Garrett are coming, and it won’t be a family dinner if all my boys aren’t there.”

Pressing the heels of his hands into his temples, he let out a deep breath. “I don’t have time to worry about family dinner. I’ve got lots of work to do. We had a case thrown out, and⁠—”

“Oh, I know all about it. I had lunch with Emma yesterday.”

James jerked his head up. “You did? What did she say? How was she?”

He’d been calling Emma every hour on the hour for over twenty-four hours, and somehow his mother had gained a live audience.

That was all the proof he needed. She wasn’t unreachable. She just didn’t want to be reached by him.

His mother leaned forward in the seat and rested her hand on the desk. “Honey, you did that poor girl wrong.”

“I promise I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know how to handle it.” He swallowed the bile that climbed up his throat. “My gut is tied in knots. I’ve thrown up twice. I haven’t slept.” He shook his head remembering the pacing he’d done the night before. “I can’t believe I hurt her like this.”