by Mora Early
“About locations you’re scouting?” Her fingers curled into the grass beside her knees. The puppy snatched up the ball and ran back to collapse in Emma’s lap again. She wiggled the ball free of its jaws and tossed it a little further this time. It took Josh a minute to remember he’d told her he was up to his ears in paperwork for location scouting. It was the reason he’d asked her to meet him here at the house, in fact. To save him some time.
He rubbed a finger along his nose uneasily. He hardly wanted to bring up Madame Butterfly or the theft around Emma. The situation was embarrassing enough to talk to Ben about, and Ben was his best friend. Admitting he’d been seduced and tricked by a mysterious and beautiful woman to the calm, collected Emma was out of the question.
“Yeah. The locations, the crew I’m hiring. Any information I need, he gets it.”
She squeezed the stress ball briefly in her hand before tossing it for the puppy again. “What’s his name?”
“Who? Ben?” Josh frowned. She shot him a quick look from beneath her lashes.
“The dog.”
That made more sense. Josh chuckled. “I don’t suppose he has one yet. He was abandoned in a dump. Ben’s fostering him, but he just brought him home yesterday and then got a lead he needed to follow.”
Emma struggled to wrest the ball from the puppy’s mouth, but he was gnawing it in earnest this time. “How long is Ben going to be gone?”
“Just a few days. Unless it snows. Is it still snowing in upstate New York this time of year, do you think?” He’d heard plenty of horror stories about snow in May and even June up in the mountains.
She finally got the ball free and tossed it for the pup to chase. “I don’t think so. But the poor little guy can’t just not have a name for days. What are you going to call him that whole time?”
He flipped through several of the location photos that Max had sent him. “Why would I call him anything? It’s not like we’ll be having conversations.”
Emma raised wide green eyes to his face. “You’ve never had a pet before, have you?”
Josh hadn’t. His father was terribly allergic to both cats and dogs, and as a child he’d been too shy to broach the subject of a less conventional pet. By the time he was out on his own, he’d reconciled himself to the fact that he would never have one. The thought hadn’t even entered his mind until now.
“No,” he replied simply. Then he tried to picture orderly Emma with the chaos causing puppy and grinned. “Have you?”
She bit her lip, dropping her eyes as the furball draped itself over her lap in total adoration. “No. I always wanted one though. I thought of endless names for my imaginary pets.” Her cheeks flushed a light pink. He felt a sudden urge to reach out and cup her cheek. It sounded like she’d had a lonely childhood. Josh cleared his throat.
“Why don’t you name him then? You’ve obviously had much more practice than me.”
Emma pursed her lips, eyes flicking between him and the puppy. The dog, oblivious to its position as the topic of discussion, nibbled contentedly on Josh’s now tooth-mark-riddled stress ball. She stroked his long, brown fur and smiled. “You should call him Chewie.”
“As in, a danger to all my expensive shoes?” Josh slid his feet further away from the slobbering dog.
She raised a single brow, lips curving upward. “As in Chewbacca.” Her green eyes twinkled with amusement. “It’s the fur color.”
He laughed. The puppy’s long hair did resemble the shaggy pelt of the Wookie in Star Wars. “Let’s hope that he doesn’t get that big!”
Emma slid the dog off her lap and rose gracefully to her feet. She brushed dog fur and grass nonchalantly from her skirt and sat in the chair opposite him. “Well, that’s something you wouldn’t have to worry about for quite awhile yet. Let’s talk about more immediate matters.”
Chewie trotted over, stress ball in his mouth, and laid himself at Emma’s feet. The puppy stared up at her adoringly. Josh really couldn’t blame him. The more he got to know the party planner, the more he realized her outwardly shy persona disguised a truly funny and interesting person. If only he could force the memories of smoldering brown eyes and sensual laughter out of his head, maybe he could see where those feelings toward Emma would lead.
Once Ben located Carla Fiorentino and he confronted her, Josh was sure this obsession would end. If she hadn’t skipped out on him in the midst of a tryst and stolen his watch in collusion with a lousy gambler, their night together would no doubt have been little more than a pleasant memory.
“What you want to do, I think,” Emma began, opening her planner and flipping through several pages, “is partner with a local women’s group in need of something, a building renovation or a scholarship fund. They provide the cause, you provide the money.” She held up a hand as he opened his mouth. “Not a donation, an investment. I’m talking a seat on the board or some sort of honorary title. You’ll be required to donate some time along with the cash, but I think you’ll find it’s worth it. Then, you throw a bash to celebrate the endeavor. I’ve got a list of several prospects here.”
Josh didn’t mind donating time. He preferred it. But a seat on the board and a press bash was much more high profile than he liked to be with his charity work. He scratched beneath his watchband.
“I suppose another fundraiser so soon after the last one isn’t advisable.” Of course it couldn’t be that easy to draw Ransler in. The man was wily.
Emma twisted the cap off her pen. “No. For most people in your circle, that last fundraiser will be the extent of their charitable giving for the rest of the year. Besides, a fundraiser is you asking for something. This,” she indicated the list of proposed women’s groups, “is you doing something. It makes a much stronger impression.”
Josh grinned. She was right. “You are a smart woman, Emma. I’m glad you’re on my team.”
“Th-thank you. Um, now, you need to look these over and decide which of these groups best suits you.” She slid the listed across the table to him. “Then we can reach out to them and get the ball rolling.”
“And you don’t think this is going to come across as me tooting my own horn?” He didn’t want to make Ransler back off even further. He needed the man to come to this event. Then, all he’d need to do was orchestrate a few brief interactions between Emma and the megastar. Ransler would get to meet Josh’s ‘fiancé’ and Josh would get his signature. Everybody won.
Emma lips quirked a little. “That’s the beauty of this plan. You aren’t throwing the event at all, as far as the public is concerned. Whichever group you partner with will be holding the luncheon or champagne brunch or something to that effect, to announce their newest building, scholarship, after school program, etc. You’re attending as a board member or donor or whatever language we come up with.”
“I take it back. You’re not smart. You’re brilliant.” Ransler was going to love her. Josh chuckled at the thought of it.
Emma’s cheeks went pink again. “If you want this to happen fast, you’re going to have to decide which group you want to work with today.”
She was so easily flustered, Josh noted with a small smile. It was kind of adorable. “Well, tell me about...” He glanced down at the list in front of him and selected one at random. “The Eugenie Markham Foundation.”
“Oh, that’s a good one.” She turned the page in her planner. “They help girls and young women with troubled backgrounds re-enter the educational system. They’re new, founded only three years ago, but they’ve already helped over 150 women get GEDs and associates degrees. They provide housing, employment opportunities, child care, tutoring, anything the girls need in order to be able to go back to school.”
Josh was intrigued. “Who was Eugenie Markham?”
“Eugenie founded the group after getting her own degree in social work while in prison for solicitation. She was a teenage dropout, got addicted to heroin and ended up on the streets. She was lucky enough to have a teacher on the inside who inspire
d her, and she’s paying it forward, according to EMF’s mission statement.”
“Let’s call Eugenie.” Josh tapped his fingers on the list decisively.
Emma bit the end of her pen. “Are you sure? There are a lot of good groups here. A battered women’s shelter, a group that funds scholarships for girls studying in male-dominated fields, one that provides exchange opportunities for girls from Third World countries to come to school in the states.” She ticked off the list one by one. “This organization provides medical treatment – physical and mental – to victims of sexual violence and female genital mutilation.”
“I’m sure. Book me a meeting with Eugenie Markham as soon as possible.” But Josh tucked the full list into his pants pocket anyway. He’d have Ben handle the donations when he got home, just to make sure they kept his name out of it.
She jotted something in her planner and nodded. “Okay. Any thoughts on what kind of project you might want to work with them on? It’s usually best to have some suggestions going in.”
Josh opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a soft snore. He and Emma both glanced down to the puppy at her feet. Chewie’s head drooped on the ground, lines of slobber still connecting him to the gnawed stress ball that had fallen from his mouth. Emma giggled. Even Josh couldn’t hide the smile that stretched his cheeks.
He strummed his thumb against the edges of the stack of photographs in front of him. The top one slid off to the side, uncovering a wide aerial shot of a broad field. He studied the piece of land in the picture and then spread his hand over it.
“I might have an idea or two. Let me think on it a bit.”
“Okay.” Emma carefully extricated her feet from beneath the puppy and stood, tucking her pen into her planner and zipping it up. “I’ll get started on the basic planning for the event. Whatever the announced project is, the general party itself will be pretty much the same.”
“Great.” Josh leaned back in his chair. “Thanks again, Emma.”
She turned to leave, but paused. Her full lips opened, closed, opened again. She took a breath. “Can I ask you something?”
After that build-up, Josh couldn’t wait to hear the question. “Of course.”
“Why is this so important? William Ransler, the funding from the studio. I’m sure some other actor would be happy to work with you. And... pardon me for saying so, but couldn’t you just fund the movie yourself?” She bit her lip, as if wishing she could bite off the words. Josh cracked his knuckles.
“It’s more about the politics than it is the money. The politics of it are really complex and totally boring. Trust me. It’s just better for the film in the long run if the studio is monetarily invested in the project from the start. In order for that to happen, they want Ransler.”
She plucked at her lower lip. “Oh. I suppose I have to take your word for it.”
“You do.” He restacked the photos and set them aside.
“Alright then. I’ll call you as soon as I’ve got us a meeting with Eugenie.” She bent swiftly and stroked a hand over the sleeping puppy. “Take good care of Chewie.”
“I will,” he assured her. She gave him a small wave and headed toward the driveway and her beat up Toyota. Josh watched her go with an appreciative eye. Between her and Ben, all his problems would be solved in just a few short weeks. Josh felt sure of it. He could already taste the triumph.
Warmth spread down the side of his calf. Josh glanced down at his wet pant leg and cursed. “Damn it, Chewie.”
Chapter 6 ~ It Won’t Ruin the Leather
Emma twirled her spoon through her cup of banana flavored frozen yogurt, glancing around the half empty food court. Todd licked at the trickles of melted mint chocolate chip ice cream dripping down his wrist.
“Not that I don’t love the big sis taking me out for ice cream, but it’s been a long time since I got beat up at school. What are we doing here, Ems?”
“I needed to talk to you.” She smiled and nodded emphatically at him.
Todd stared at her, tongue poking into the corner of his mouth. “Okay, one, why do your words and your body movements not match at all? And B, what’s wrong with your house? There’s cable television there. Though,” he paused, taking a bite of his cone. “No ice cream. We should stop at the store on the way back and get some.”
“You’re eating ice cream now, Todd.” She rolled her eyes. “We’re here because... well, I’m not entirely sure why. I had it all worked out in my head how it was less suspicious if we talked out in public, but now that I think about it, that doesn’t make any sense.” She stabbed her froyo repeatedly.
“And the nodding and smiling?”
She sucked a cool spoonful of the creamy treat. “I figured anyone watching would think we were having a normal conversation and not bother listening in.”
“So, let me get this straight. You brought us out in public to talk, and then decided a pantomime would throw off anyone trying to listen to us?” He lapped at his ice cream and shook his head. “And I’m the one with the weird ideas.”
“Shut up.” She leaned in closer, dropping her voice. Her eyes darted over the surrounding empty tables. “We need to figure out a game plan. That guy, Ben, the one who was looking for you at Jimmy’s? He works for Josh Owens.”
Todd swallowed half his ice cream in one bite and hissed in a breath. “Ow, ow. Ice cream headache.” He rubbed at the spot between his eyes frantically. “Why are you worried? He was asking about Carla, for Christ’s sake. Clearly he’s barking up the wrong tree.”
She shoved the last of her lukewarm tea into Todd’s hand and guided it toward his mouth. Todd took a gulp. After he swallowed, she poked him in the forehead with a finger until he tilted his head back. “Better?” He nodded. “I’m worried because once he realizes Carla isn’t the girl who stole The Watch, he’s going to start looking at the other women in your life. Like me. Slowly,” she admonished him as he raised the ice cream cone back to his mouth.
Todd grinned sheepishly and carefully licked the cone. “Who says he’s going to figure out it wasn’t Carla?”
“You think she’s going to ‘fess up to something she didn’t do?” Emma drew a puppy in her quickly melting yogurt cup.
A muscle in Todd’s jaw ticked. “I think if Carla doesn’t want to be found, this Ben guy isn’t going to find her. He’s not the CIA or anything. He’s just a guy. Hey, while we’re here, you want to go with me to the salon?”
Emma chucked her half-eaten yogurt into the nearby trash receptacle. Was she borrowing trouble, worrying so much about Ben? Hearing Josh talk about him as his go-to information guy yesterday had turned her organs to ice. Sitting on the grass at Josh’s feet while they talked about a name for the puppy had just made it all worse.
She remembered the sound of his laughter when she’d picked out Chewie’s name. If he found out she’d been the one who stole from him, she’d never hear it again. He’d send her to jail in a heartbeat. Josh Owens wasn’t about to let anyone get the better of him. Just look at the lengths he was willing to go in order to sign William Ransler on to his project.
Part of her wanted to just disappear. She could leave Napa, move somewhere else. Aunt Margaret had left them a small piece of property up north, with a little hunting cabin on it. She’d never been there before, so no one would think to look for her there. But if she ran, Josh would know she was guilty immediately. Even if he didn’t send the cops after her, which he would...
“Ems, Earth to Ems. Your people need you.” Todd waved sticky fingers in front of her eyes, drawing her out of her reverie.
“Oh, sorry. What?”
Todd wadded up his napkins and tossed them in the trash. “The salon? It’s up a floor.”
“Is this about the mud?” Emma handed him her napkin and tapped her chin. Todd scowled and rubbed at the spot on his own chin.
“Yes, this is about the mud, Ems. Riches await!”
She hooked her arm through his elbow. “Well, let’s go see a m
an about some mud then.”
He blinked, momentarily surprised by her capitulation, but then he drew her toward the escalator.
“I knew you’d come around one of these days. You’ll see, once I get that lab analysis back, it’ll be all gravy. You won’t have to work your butt off planning fancy parties for the hoity-toity jerks anymore, Ems. You’ll be throwing balls of your own.”
Emma squeezed his elbow. “I know, Todd.” She looked up into his green eyes. So like her own, and yet vastly different. “Do you know where Carla is?”
Todd’s gaze slid from hers and the muscle in his cheek tensed again. “No.”
“Todd.” She’d never known her brother to be that succinct. Ever. In his whole entire life. There was something more to the story of Carla Fiorentino that Todd wasn’t telling her. “If you know, tell me. We could make sure she’s hidden somewhere Ben and Josh can’t find her. Or, I don’t know, get her a new name or something.” That was a stretch. Emma had no idea how you actually went about doing that, and she really hoped Todd didn’t either.