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“What is it?”
“You’re paying.”
“Fine. Can you come in an hour?” I asked. “I’ll meet you at the diner in town”
“Okay,” Emily said. “I’ll see you there.”
I hung up the phone and let go of the breath I’d been holding. I still didn’t know if Emily would be interested in taking the job back, but at least she agreed to meet me. I couldn’t help but notice, yet again, how sexy her voice sounded. I shook myself. If this was going to work, I would have to get my lust under control.
I walked over to Mrs. Johnston’s and rang the bell. She answered with a smile, and I knew her anger with me over firing Emily was gone.
“Any luck?” she asked.
“No.” I shook my head. “Nothing.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll find someone,” she said.
“Actually,” I said. “I came over to ask if you could watch Tommy and Sarah for a little longer? I’m meeting Emily for coffee. Hopefully we can work something out, and she’ll come back to work for us.”
“Really?’ Mrs. Johnston’s eyes lit up with excitement.
“Yeah,” I said. “I might hire her back.”
“You better,” she said sternly. “She’s the best person out there. Your kids have been talking about her all day. They love her.”
“I know they do.” I sighed. “We’ll see what happens.”
“Well go,” she said. “I’ll watch them. You go meet with Emily. I’ll keep my fingers crossed that everything works out.”
“You’re meeting Emily?” Sarah said, suddenly appearing behind Mrs. Johnston.
“You are?” Tommy asked, bounding up beside his sister.
I sighed. “Yes,” I said. “But this doesn’t mean she’s coming back. Don’t get your hopes up until we know for sure.”
“She’s coming back!” Sarah squealed and ran into the kitchen. Tommy followed her with a huge grin on his face.
I shook my head and left, praying Emily wouldn’t be too hard to convince. I couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing my kids again.
CHAPTER EIGHT - EMILY
My palms were sweating when I walked into the diner. It was the only one in town, so I knew Sean would be waiting for me there. I glanced around the second I walked through the door, searching for his face. When I found him, he was sitting in the back corner with two coffee mugs on the table in front of him. I swallowed hard and wiped
my hands on my jeans before I walked over to join him.
“Hi,” I said, sitting down.
He nodded and motioned to the seat across from him. I couldn’t quite read his face. “Thank you for coming.”
“Of course,” I said with a smile.
“I got you some coffee,” he said, pushing the second mug toward me. “I wasn’t sure how you take it.”
My mind wandered at the possible innuendo of his last sentence and I had to catch myself from going down that rabbit hole.
“Black is perfect,” I said. “Thank you.”
He nodded again, and I took a small sip of the coffee.
