Chapter 6
“Good evening,” the hostess at Lulu’s said to Emma as she approached her. “Do you have a reservation?”
“I believe so,” Emma said.
“Name?”
“Ronan Davis.”
The woman checked her tablet computer. “Ah, yes. You’re a bit early. If you’d like to wait in the bar, I can get you when your table is ready.”
“All right. Is Ronan here?”
“You’re the first to check in. When he arrives, I’ll let him know where you are.”
“Thank you.”
She made her way to the bar, where several stools were open.
She took a seat, and a female bartender walked over. “What can I get you?”
Emma scanned the menu but didn’t see what she wanted. “Can you make a virgin strawberry daiquiri?”
“Better than anyone.”
“Then I’ll have that, please.”
“Coming right up.”
Emma’s phone vibrated. It was a text from Ronan.
GPS says I’ll be there in twelve minutes.
She appreciated the specificity of his message. Vagueness, especially when it was schedule related, annoyed her.
She spent several minutes catching up on her email, then slipped her phone back into her pocket as the bartender returned.
“Here you are,” the bartender said, setting the daiquiri in front of her. “Do you want to open a tab?”
“Her drink’s on me.” Marty Lundstrom leaned past Emma and handed the bartender his card. “And a martini, please. Double olive.”
“I’ll pay for myself, thank you,” Emma said curtly and gave the bartender her card.
The woman gave Emma a strange look.
Marty, however, appeared to know exactly what the bartender was thinking. “It’s okay,” he said, then motioned to Emma and himself. “We work together.”
The bartender didn’t look particularly satisfied with the answer, but after giving him a long look, she left with both cards.
He rolled his eyes and plopped onto the stool next to her. “This isn’t taken, is it?”
“Does it look taken?”
He laughed like she was making a joke. She wasn’t.
“If I realized you were also coming here tonight, I would have offered to give you a ride,” he said.
“Why would you have done that? I would have then needed a ride back to the office to get my car. It’s more efficient for each of us to have driven ourselves.”
He eyed her, a small grin on his lips. “You don’t like me very much, do you?”
“I don’t like or dislike you. We are colleagues, not friends.”
“Colleagues can be friends.”
Seeing no reason to respond, she picked up her glass and took a sip of her drink.
“I just thought if we got to know each other a little better, it would make working together easier,” Marty said.
“Doing your work well and on time is what makes working together easier.”
Something flashed in Marty’s eyes and his jaw tensed. “Exactly what are you trying to—”
Just then, Ronan arrived and took the seat on the other side of Emma. Smiling, he said, “Good evening.”
She checked her watch. “That was only eleven minutes.”
“I caught a couple of green lights.”
“Who are you?” Marty said, a hint of annoyance in his tone.
“Emma’s friend. Who are you?”
“Emma and I work together.”
“Is that right? Do you have a name.”
“Of course I have a name. Marty. Marty Lundstrom.”
While Emma had trouble reading other people’s faces, Ronan’s was the exception, and she could tell he immediately recognized Marty’s name. Not surprising as Emma had often mentioned the man’s incompetence.
Ronan extended a hand, and the two men shook. “Ronan Davis.”
“Have you two known each other long?” Marty asked.
“You could say that.”
Emma and Ronan had met in third grade and had been best friends ever since. Marty had no need to know that, however.
To Emma, Ronan asked, “Been waiting long?”
“Sixteen minutes.”
“Sorry I wasn’t here. Had a last-minute thing I needed to take care of.”
“Why are you apologizing?” she asked. “You said seven. It’s not even seven yet.”
“She’s a real stickler for time, isn’t she?” Marty chuckled.
Ignoring him, Ronan said, “In that case, apology retracted. How’s Ari?”
“Not happy that I left him at home.”
“Next time, I’ll choose someplace he can join us.”
Marty snickered. “You take that dog everywhere, don’t you?”
Both Emma and Ronan looked at him, stone-faced.
“That dog?” Emma said.
“Uh, I meant, um, Airy.”
“Ari.”
“Right, right. Ari.”
They continued to stare at him.
When he could take it no longer, he said, “I, uh, need to hit the restroom. Back in a minute.”
As soon as he walked off, Ronan asked, “What’s he doing here?”
“I have no idea. I was ordering a drink, and he just showed up. He must have had plans here already. He said he wants to be ‘friends.’ He thinks it would make working together easier.”
Ronan chuckled. “And what did you say.”
“What do you think?”
“That if he really wanted things to be easier, he’d applied himself more.”
“That’s a fair approximation.”
“Of course it is. You’re not the only one here with a PhD.”
She looked confused. “Yes, I am.”
“No, you’re not. I have a PhD in Emma Perez.” He grinned.
“That’s not a real thing.”
“It most certainly is. In fact, I’m the world’s foremost expert on the subject.”
She laughed for the first time that evening.
—
Marty entered the restroom, his anger barely under control.
First, Emma disrespected him by basically saying he wasn’t good at his job, and then her pretty-boy friend acted like he was better than Marty.
“That son of a—” He clamped his mouth shut as one of the stall doors opened and a middle-aged man exited.
They exchanged nods, then the older man washed his hands and left.
Marty looked around to make sure no one else was around, then turned on the cold water and splashed some onto his face.
He couldn’t afford to lose his cool. Not in public like this, and definitely not in front of Emma.
His plan had been to wow her with his charms, sure that he’d win her over, and at the very least get her to ease up on him at work. If he’d played his cards perfectly, she might have even started to think of him as someone she could trust, which he could then leverage for his own needs.
But from the moment he’d approached her, she hadn’t even wanted to give him the time of day.
He took a deep breath and stared at himself in the mirror. He needed to calm down. He never thought clearly when he was wound up like this.
It took several deep breaths before he stopped spiraling.
Maybe the situation wasn’t as hopeless as he’d been thinking. Maybe Marty had been hasty in his assessment of Ronan. Sure, the guy had backed Emma up, but that’s what friends did.
If Marty could make Ronan see that he wasn’t such a bad person, maybe the man could help convince Emma of the fact. Plus, Ronan could be a back door into figuring out what Emma was working on in her free time.
Marty grabbed a paper towel and wiped away the water dripping from his face. He looked in the mirror once more, put on a smile, then headed back into the restaurant.
The bar had filled considerably while he was away, and a middle-aged woman now sat on his stool.
He moved over to her, planning to tell her to move, but before he could, he heard Emma say, “Tomorrow night?”
“You forgot, didn’t you?” Ronan said.
“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“It may have slipped my mind,” she admitted.
“Only things you don’t think are important slip your mind.”
“You know how I feel about parties,” she said, annoyed.
“I do, but you did promise me you’d come. You don’t have to stay all night, but I’d really like it if you were there for a little while. I put a lot of work into this.”
“I know. But there are going to be a lot of people, and you know how I feel about crowds.”
“Crowds of movie stars.”
“Since when would that appeal to me.”
“Good point. Look, if you really don’t want to come, I won’t force you. I just wanted to show off.”
After a second or two of silence, Emma sighed and asked, “What time?”
Ronan’s voice brightened as he told her, “Eight-thirty. And I promise I won’t make you stay any later than midnight.”
“Midnight?”
“Eleven-thirty.”
“Fine. But I’m not going to like it.”
“I’ll do everything I can to see that you—” Ronan paused and pulled a vibrating cell phone from his pocket. “Give me a second,” he said, then answered the call. “Yes?…No, that’s not what we talked about…Not that, either.” He listened again, then grimaced. “Fine…Give me twenty minutes.” He hung up.
“What’s wrong?” Emma asked.
“There’s a problem at the house. You want to come with me? It shouldn’t take too long, and we can grab dinner somewhere else after.”
“I suppose I do still need to eat.”
Marty quickly turned back toward the restrooms so that they wouldn’t see him on their way out.
Luck was still on his side. Tomorrow night, Emma would be away from home for several hours.
That would be plenty of time for Marty to search her place. Sure, the dog would likely be there, but he had a whole day to figure out how to deal with him.
Once the duo had left, Marty made his way back to the bar and slipped onto a stool that had just been vacated. He signaled the bartender. “Another martini, please.”