Page 59 of The Emma Special

“It pays the bills. Of which I have many. Not that you care.”

“Don’t defend it. I think it’s great. And I do care. I think I care too much.”

“Oh, please. What do you need, James? I really do have things to do. I don’t mean to be harsh, but it’s…” She let out a long groan. “It’s hard to hear your voice. I miss you, and it’s stupid because I hated working for your firm. I can’t believe I said that. You were the only part of that job that didn’t inhale.”

James ran a hand through his hair. Hearing Emma’s confessions should have him walking on clouds, but all it did was tear his chest apart. “We can still be friends, Emma. I would like to see you again.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

James slammed his hand on the console. “I object, Your Honor.”

A tiny giggle betrayed her before she gathered her resolve. “I’m going to hang up now.”

“Wait! Um, I do need something actually. My mom, you’ve met her, she’s⁠—”

“Wonderful?”

“Insistent that I bring a date to family dinner tomorrow night.”

“Yeah, no. I don’t see how that has anything to do with me.”

“What if,” James said, then paused to wet his lips. What was he doing? This was crazy. There was no way she’d go for it. But he felt that rush he got when standing before the judge and a full jury, and that gut feeling told him that this was going to work. “I’ll hire you. You can play the part for one night. A gig. To help get Mom off my back. You’d be doing me a favor.”

Emma scoffed. “Not a favor if you’re paying me.”

“Then don’t call it a favor. I’m hiring you for your excellent acting skills.”

That would be true and all, but Emma didn’t have to act to be excellent. She just was. She would charm his brothers. She would compliment his mother’s cooking, and they would share recipes. He could see it all unfolding before his eyes—yet none of those reasons covered his true desire to be around her.

Emma clicked her tongue a few times. “This feels like entrapment.”

“I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do. This is up to you, but just know that I would be happy to have you beside me tomorrow night.”

After a few beats of silence, Emma asked, “Do you want woodland fairy or Victorian princess?”

“Oh. No, I meant⁠—”

“I’m kidding. But really, what do you hope to get out of this?”

“A girlfriend. For the evening.” James confessed. Wow. Those words really stuck in his throat. “I’ll pay you to play the part of my girlfriend for a couple hours. How does three fifty sound? What’s your going rate? I know you don’t want to have anything to do with me⁠—”

“I’ll do it.”

James blinked through the haze. He’d expected her to put up more of a fight. “Wow, really?”

“For three hundred fifty. What do you want me to wear? Tell me everything about these family dinners. I need to prep and set the scene. Are we talking Gilmore Girls Friday dinners where I’m in a dress, updo, and heels or is this shrimp boil in the backyard and I’m in cut-offs and flip-flops?”

His brain short circuited, picturing Emma in option two.

“James? What do you want me to wear?”

“The dress. But nothing crazy. No heels. I don’t want you to hurt your knee⁠—”

“I’ll worry about my knee. What color dress? What are you wearing?”

He chuckled. “Right now?”

“James! Focus. I’m not going to wear a red dress if you’re in maroon pants or something.”