Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter
Thirty-One
My mom peeked in through the door, which I’d neglected to shut. “Oh. Are we interrupting?”
My dad appeared behind her. My mom didn’t hesitate to join us in the living room, but my dad hovered in the entryway.
“Not really,” I said as I slowly got to my feet, wariness tensing my muscles.
“Your neighbor let us into the building as she was leaving,” my dad said. He could have meant Mrs. Nagy or any other female Mirage resident.
“What brings you by?” I asked. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“You’re not the only one to be taken by surprise today,” my mom said, the edge to her voice setting off clanging alarm bells in my head.
“Susan…” my dad began in his peacemaker voice.
My mom paid him no heed. “Your father had an appointment in the city this morning. We thought it would be nice to have lunch at the restaurant where you work.”
Oh, shit.
My insides turned to sludge.
My mom pinned me with her piercing, pale blue gaze. “Imagine our surprise when we mentioned to the waitress that you’re our daughter and she told us that it was a shame you no longer work there.”
“I can explain.” My voice came out strained, barely rising above a whisper.
“Please do.” Her words were as sharp and cold as icy knife blades. “How can you provide stability for Olivia when you don’t even have a job? How can you be a good example for her?”
“I…” My voice abandoned me. So did my brain. I couldn’t think of a single thing to say in my defense.
Theo spoke up, surprising me. “She has a job.” She wheeled over to my mom and held out a shiny, uncreased Wyatt Investigations business card.
How many of those things did she have?
My mom read the card as my dad peeked over her shoulder. “Wyatt Investigations?”
Wyatt stepped forward. “I’m Wyatt. Of Wyatt Investigations.”
He offered his hand, and my dad shook it, looking a little bemused.
My mom barely glanced at Wyatt before shooting her gaze back to me. “You’re working as a private investigator?” She made it sound like the most undesirable job on the planet. “Taking photos of sleazy, cheating husbands in compromising positions?”
“No!” I choked out.
“Wyatt Investigations takes on a varied caseload,” Theo said, entirely calm and collected, the exact opposite of what I was feeling in that moment. “And Emersyn works in a primarily administrative capacity,” she added.
I bit back a protest. Now was not the time to refute that claim.
“Administrative?” my mom echoed in a questioning and skeptical tone.
“Booking client appointments, making phone calls, doing research,” Theo said.
“That’s not so bad, right?” I sounded desperate, but that’s because I was. Desperate to lighten my mom’s mood, to gain her approval, to keep her from campaigning to take Livy away from me.
“I suppose,” my mom conceded grudgingly.
“She’s a real asset to the agency,” Wyatt said.
I shot him a grateful smile.
“It’s true,” Theo agreed, and I could have hugged her in that moment.
“And you are?” my mom asked her.
“Theo Harris. I’m job shadowing Emersyn. It’s a school credit thing.”
It was a little scary how easily and smoothly the kid could lie.
“Well…we’ll let you get on with it then,” my dad said, putting an arm around my mom’s shoulders and attempting to steer her toward the door. “We didn’t mean to interrupt you during business hours.”
“Emersyn,” my mom said over her shoulder, “the next time you have news, perhaps you could share it with us, so we’re not taken by surprise.”
“Sure. Sorry,” I babbled. “It slipped my mind the last time we talked.”
My dad swept my mom out the door, and I had to force myself not to run over and slam it shut behind them. Instead, I speedwalked and closed it quietly.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I said to Theo and Wyatt as I sagged against the door. “You really saved my bacon.” I met Wyatt’s gaze. “Again.”
One corner of his mouth crooked up. “Your mother seems like a force of nature.”
And I’m a natural disaster, I thought. At least in her eyes.
Out loud, I said, “With a habit of pelting me with hail.”
“You just need to know what you’re doing when dealing with parents like that,” Theo said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “Then it’s not much of a problem.”
“Clearly, I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Theo shrugged. “My life coaching costs extra. And right now we’ve got a murder to solve.”
“Wait. We’re paying you?” I said, confused. “We’re not making any money here.”
“Not yet.” She headed for the door. “My grandma was taking a lemon cake out of the oven when I left the apartment. We need fuel, so I’ll go grab us some slices while you get the murder board set up.”
She zipped out into the hallway without waiting for either of us to agree to her plan.
As I shut the door behind her, my phone chimed, so I picked it up and read the new text message. It was from my mom.
We still need to discuss Olivia’s new living arrangements.
My stomach twisted into knots.
“I really can’t do this,” I said. “Not today.”
“What’s wrong?” Wyatt asked with concern. “Did you get some bad news?”
“Not news, just…more family drama.” I set aside my phone. “With that and the police interrogation, I need some time to myself.”
“That’s okay,” he assured me. “I’ll text Theo and tell her we’re leaving our meeting for another time.”
“Maybe tomorrow.” Leaving it any later would probably put me on Theo’s bad side, which was a slightly terrifying thought.
“Is there anything else I can do to help?” he asked.
I tried to muster a smile as I shook my head. “I’ll be okay.” An ache of gratitude cut through my chest. “But thank you.”
He nodded, his gaze searching my face, as if he were trying to make sure that I really was okay. His eyes were so full of compassion that my throat constricted and my eyes burned, but I was determined not to cry.
“I’ll walk you out,” I said quickly, darting around him to get to the door. I needed to get out from under his direct scrutiny, to give myself a moment to fight off the threat of tears.
Out in the hall, I led the way to the stairwell. Sharing an elevator with Wyatt struck me as a very bad idea, especially given my current state of emotional fragility and vulnerability. I took the stairs at a jog, and Wyatt followed without a word. Once in the lobby, we slowed our pace.
I took in the sight of the rainy afternoon through the front door. The dreariness of the day matched my mood.
Wyatt opened the door but then paused, his gaze meeting mine. “I’ll see you soon, Emersyn.”
I wasn’t convinced that it was a good idea for me to see him again, especially after that kiss we’d shared. But even though the prudent part of my brain—which seemed to be a very small part—told me I should cut all ties with him, that didn’t quell my curiosity.
Even if I did wisely decide not to see him again, there was something I wanted to know.
“Hey, Wyatt?”
He paused, halfway out the door.
“You still haven’t told me your last name,” I said.
He gave me a ghost of a grin as a shadow passed across his face. “Who says I have one?”
I caught one last glimpse of his almost-grin as he continued out into the gray and blustery afternoon.