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16
THE WORDS STARTLE HER. EMMA SWINGS AROUND, SCANNINGthe parking lot, but there’s nothing to see besides rows of empty cars, hunkered down in the afternoon sunshine.
Why would someone leave this note for her?
And then it hits her: the note must be from another driver. Did she unwittingly cut someone off when she pulled into the lot, or steal another person’s spot? Well, it’s an immature, peevish gesture, and she can’t let it add to her stress level. It’s high enough as it is.
After stopping by the house to swap her three-inch stilettos for flats, Emma heads to the studio and then retreats with Eric to the conference room. Their normal routine after every major presentation is to do a postmortem, reviewing what worked and what they might have done better.
Plopping down at the table, Emma opens a bottle of water she’s brought with her while Eric makes an espresso using the machine on the counter.
“So I’d say that was a slam dunk, wouldn’t you?” he says as he joins her at the table.
“They did seem to love the findings—and based on Scott’s response, I think they’ll probably hire us for more research.”
“That’s great. In hindsight, I wish our survey covered more on securing repeat customer business. There were quite a few questions on that.”
“True.” It’s the kind of insight she’s usually the one to offer, but she appreciates the way Eric’s been more proactive in recent months. “We can include plenty of questions on that next time.... By the way, I’m sorry that I wasn’t at the top of my game today. Was it obvious I lost my train of thought in the middle?”
“I noticed, but only because I knew what was coming. I don’t think anyone else picked up on it. Was it because of that girl texting?”
“Yeah, I let her distract me,” Emma says, though of course it’s not the full story.
“She did it while I was talking, too.” Eric rolls his eyes. “What a brat.”
“Speaking of people behaving badly, did you notice me cutting anyone off as we pulled into the parking lot?”
“No, why?”
“Someone left a pissy note on my windshield. Said I needed to watch what I was doing.”
“Oops, maybe they meant to put the note onmycar. There was someone right behind me, and I think I took the last place in the row.”
Emma sighs. “Well, hopefully they’re over it by now.”
Eric drains the espresso and plunks down the cup. “If that’s all, I think I’ll take off.... Oh, I almost forgot. Are you still trying to decide if that woman you ran into was someone you met in Miami?”
“No, I actually remembered,” she says quickly. “It was from someplace else entirely.”
“Glad you figured it out. That kind of stuff drives me nuts, too.... But hey, you know who I thinkwasat the Avignon dinner?Tom.”
Her breath catches. “What makes you say that?”
“It occurred to me on my drive back here that I took a bunch of pictures during the convention in case we needed them for social media. I pulled up the file when I got back and as I glanced through them, I saw a guy in one shot who I swear is Tom.”
She flashes a smile that she hopes doesn’t look as fake as it feels.
“Yeah, it’s funny—Tomwasthere,” she tells him. “But we only recently made the connection because we were never introduced then.”
“That’s actually pretty cool. It’s like the universe kept doing its best to nudge the two of you together.”
“Ahh, right.”
“Anyway, I emailed the pictures to you in case you want to take a look.”
“Aw, thanks.”
The second Eric’s out the door, Emma makes her way to her desk and scans through the photos. Though she knows for a fact that Tom was at the dinner, she wants to see it how Eric had. When she finally locates the photo he’s in, her heart skips.
