Page 67 of The Sound of Harmony

“In the rain?”

“It’s not raining. Not yet. And I’m almost there.”

“I can meet you.” Emma turned onto Main Street. “I’ll give you a ride home. Groceries are heavy.”

“That would be nice,” Kendrick said. “Is that part of helping me organize?”

“I’ll add it to your fee.” She cruised to a red light and put her hand on her forehead. How were they going to handle this? Silence stretched between them.

“This got uncomfortable,” Kendrick said.

“It did.”

“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “I’ll pay you in full today.”

Emma didn’t answer. She needed to get paid, but the word professional sounded different in this context.

“I just made it worse, didn’t I?” Kendrick asked. “The morning after we slept together and I’m offering to pay you.”

“I should be the one paying you. I think I found a whole new vocal range last night.” Emma tried to sound funny, but she didn’t quite pull it off. There was no good way to do this.

She turned onto Second Street and put on her headlights as the sky turned deep purple. “We can be adults about this. I do the work, you pay me, and that’s separate from anything else.”

“Agreed,” Kendrick said. “I like the sound of ‘anything else.’ Everything else, actually.”

Emma let that one pass without comment. “Speaking of adults, Mitch has been in touch.”

“I keep forgetting he’s an adult, and not the little wanker I grew up with. What did he want?”

“He wants me to work with his clients, staging houses. I thought maybe you put him up to it.”

“First I’m hearing of it.” Kendrick paused. “What was your answer?”

“I accepted. I think this could work out well.”

“Are you sure about that? I thought you were an organizer.”

“I can do both.” She turned into the Whole Foods parking lot and looked for Kendrick. “Is there a problem?”

“No, no problem.” His voice was as flat as a pond at dawn. “But I want to be sure you’re going to finish my job first.”

“Of course I am, silly.”

“Because I’d hate to have to fight Mitch for you.”

“That was a joke, right?” Emma didn’t like being treated as an object to fight over, even when he was kidding.

“Yes, it was,” Kendrick said. “Mitch is no match for me. Hey, I see your truck.”

She saw him too, waving at her from near the entrance. “It’s going to rain any second,” she said. “Why don’t you go in? I’ll meet you inside.”

They ended the call and Emma parked, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. It had been quite a morning, with a lot of conversation with different people, each one pulling her in a different direction. She needed to quiet her mind and get in touch with her own wants and needs.

But every refrain led back to Kendrick. They’d started their relationship over the phone, in two different states, everything at a distance. They’d only spent one night together. It was too new, too fragile to put a label on, but she was feeling things she hadn’t felt for a long time.

Emma wasn’t so foolish as to think that one incredible night had erased her past. No man—no matter how wonderful—could do that. Kendrick hadn’t rescued her or healed her. She’d done that herself. After years of therapy and hard work, she was finally at a place where she could let a new man into her life. Kendrick wasn’t the cause of healing. He was the proof of it.

And now, Kendrick was running toward her truck like an action hero as the first drops of rain began to fall. She beckoned him inside and he slammed the door. The sky opened up, unleashing sheets of rain.