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ChapterTwenty-Nine
Jonathan
It’s past quitting time on Wednesday evening. I’ve been in the office entirely too long. This morning, I came straight here from the airport. I’ve been up since the crack of dawn, and I’m desperate to leave and get a run in before I crash for the night. I’ve felt restless all day, but the exercise should help.
I just have a few last-minute things to accomplish, but my mother has chosen this exact moment to call and pester me. I’ve told her as much, but she insists that pestering is subjective.
“I consider this entertaining, if you must know. Now, have you made any headway with the girl in the red dress? I’ve hunted through the society pages the last few weeks, but you two aren’t in any pictures. Why are you hiding her away?”
I’m typing an email as I reply, “I’m not hiding her away. She and I aren’t dating.”
“Pity. Tell me her name again?”
“I never told you her name in the first place.”
She’s annoyed her ploy didn’t work. “Must you be so insufferable? I thought I raised you better than this. Give your old mother something to live for…”
“You’re barely in your 60s. You do Pilates four times a week.”
“Yes, and with the way your father drives me insane, I’ll be on death’s door tomorrow, Pilates or not.”
“Emelia Mercier.”
That last name stops her in her tracks.
“You’re joking. Is she related to Alexander and Emmett?”
“Sort of. It’s a long story.”
“Well that makes things interesting, doesn’t it? Now why aren’t you two dating?”
“She won’t have me.”
This makes my mother howl with laughter. It’s endless. I put her on speakerphone, set my phone down on my desk, and get back to work. I send off one email, read another, and she’s still going at it.
“I’m sorry,” she says, trying to compose herself. “Oh, I’m terrible. Should I tell you it’s all right and remind you of what a catch you are? No, I shouldn’t—you know that, and I’ll only fill your head with more hot air. Why has she turned you down? Do you two not have chemistry?”
I clear my throat. “That’s…not the problem.”
There’s a soft knock on my door, and I look up to see Emelia. She’s avoided me all day, and I’ve made it easy for her, holing up inside my office, catching up on things I neglected while I was in Cincinnati.
I’d accepted that I wouldn’t get the chance to see her today after the presentation. With my office door closed, I wasn’t sure if she’d already left or not, but I assumed she had. Now, she hovers at the threshold, waiting for an invitation to enter. She looks like a confection in that delicate pink dress, and more importantly, I’m glad to see the tears from this morning are long gone.
I wave for her to come in.
“Maybe it’s that she finds your personality lacking,” my mother suggests helpfully. I’ve still got her on speakerphone so Emelia hears this.
“Could be,” I reply, unbothered. “She’s here now, actually. She just walked into my office.”
Emelia frowns in confusion.
“I’m on the phone with my mother,” I supply.
Her eyes widen and she hesitates mid-step, halfway to my desk.
“Emelia, meet Lucille. Lucille, Emelia.”
“Oh! Um, hello,” Emelia chirps shyly.
