Rush

I might be drunk. I’m probably drunk. I haven’t eaten anything since I left Seattle this morning, so yes, I am officially drunk.

“Come with me, Emma.” He tugs on my arm. “I’ll get you to bed.”

I don’t argue because sleep sounds good. Tomorrow everything will be better.

Chapter 6

Case

I live on the beach in California. When I step outside every morning, I’m met with a sense of peace that I’ve never been able to find anywhere else.

New York is in your face from the moment you wake up. My apartment sits twelve floors above the ground, but I could still hear the heartbeat of this city as I tried to fall asleep last night.

Honking horns.

Patience doesn’t exist on the streets of Manhattan. Everyone is in a rush to get from point A to point B.

I can’t condemn any of them. Once I get to my office in San Francisco, I’m full steam ahead. I put in twelve to fifteen hours, six days a week.

I save one day a week to recharge. Most of the time, that’s spent on a surfboard in the ocean if the waves are just right.

Mere days from now I’ll be back where I belong.

I glance over at the closed door of the guestroom.

Drake’s sister was numbing her pain when I sought her out at the bar last night. I’d sent her three text messages telling her that the coast was clear. I got nothing in response. I ignored the pull to look for her at first.

Once I started thinking about the consequences I’d face if she got herself into trouble, I took the elevator down to the ground floor with the hope that she was still in the bar.

She was. Emma was alone, drinking in a corner.

I don’t know where her relationship with Drake stands. He rarely mentions her. I can’t recall how old she is or what she does to earn a living.

The only thing I’m certain about is that she was blindsided by the news that her brother is getting married.

I’m grateful that the server at the bar dropped the bombshell on her. I wasn’t looking forward to that conversation.

Drake’s family drama is his to sort out.

The sound of the doorknob of the guestroom rattling draws my attention to it. I’ve been parked in a chair for the last hour with my laptop. I woke up to a few dozen emails and just as many text messages from Cabbott employees here on the east coast.

I’m the go-to now that Drake is out of town.

Dealing with the host of issues that are popping up has kept my mind focused on work and not on how Emma looked last night.

Her cheeks were flushed pink when I found her at the bar. She had piled her thick dark hair up in a messy bun. There’s no denying that she’s beautiful.

I stand when the door to the guestroom opens. Emma walks out dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a light blue silk blouse.

Her lips part when she sees me.

“Good morning,” I offer.

“Morning,” she mutters. “I had one too many martinis last night.”

I wondered if she’d bring it up. I hadn’t planned on it. When I lived in this apartment, I was known to overindulge often, too often.

Before I can change the subject, Emma carries on. “I don’t usually do that. I can’t. Or I haven’t been able to, but I guess now I can do whatever I want, whenever I want.”

That’s a hell of a lot to unpack this early in the morning.

I skate past whatever she just said and focus on what I need from her. “What are your plans for the day?”

She gazes around my apartment as if inspiration is going to hit her. “I’m going to see about a flight home.”

That works for me.

“What about you?” she asks.

The question perks my brow, but I ignore it in favor of my agenda. “I need you to hang out somewhere else until at least five.”

“I can’t come back until five?” She studies me.

I toss her a curt nod. “At least until then. It could be as late as seven. I’ll let you know if five doesn’t work, so you may want to pay attention to your phone today.”

She pushes her hair back over her shoulders. “I guess I can find a coffee shop. Maybe I can go to one of the museums for a few hours.”

That’s the spirit.

I keep that comment to myself. “I’m leaving for the office. I’ll see you out.”

Her arms cross her chest just under her breasts. My eyes level on them because I’m not dead. She’s a beautiful woman with a killer body.

The thoughts running through my head should land me a special place in hell.

I can’t think about Emma’s tits or how her slender waist flows down to curvy hips.

“Can you give me a minute to get my stuff together?” She tilts her head. “I won’t be long.”