He reached for her. “I’ll help—”
She glared at him. “Not a chance in hell.” She opened the roof door. “I’m going to storm off now in righteous indignation, but we both know it’s going to take me a minute, so please let me have it with as much dignity as possible. Come on, Hog.”
Hog gave Simon one last longing look, then trotted to Emma. When he was through the doorway, she shut the door behind her with a satisfying thud.
And caught the hem of her sweater in it, trapping her.
“Shit.” Wrestling to get the door open again while still caught in it was a joke. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
The door opened. Simon, of course. “Are you—”
“Fine!” She yanked her sweater free. “I’m fine!” She nudged him back onto the roof. Maybe pushed was a better word.
“Let me—”
“No!” She took a deep breath. “I’m trying to make a dramatic exit here, dammit.”
He gave a slow nod and backed up.
Emma nodded back with as much dignity as she could muster—which wasn’t much by now—but hey, pride was pride. The man had taken her to heaven and then decreed they weren’t going to do it again. She wanted to be mad, but if she was being honest with herself, she was hurt.
Hell if she’d admit it.
You’ve been through worse. Way worse. So suck it up.
WHEN EMMA FINALLY made it to her apartment, she kept going, accessing her Uber app to get a car. It was ten P.M. and she had nowhere to go, but that wasn’t going to stop her.
Twenty minutes later, she and Hog stood outside Paw Pals. The day before Alison had put in a new security system, and they each had a new passcode to get in.
But Emma’s didn’t work. She tried it again. And then again. On the fifth attempt, she was politely but firmly locked out of the system.
Great. Fantastic. Thumbing through the contacts on her phone, she stared at Alison’s name. Ground her teeth. Then hit the number.
Her mortal enemy and business partner answered with “Something better be burning. What is it?”
“My life,” Emma said and her eyes filled. She sniffed and swiped at the stupid tears.
“Shit. Are you crying? Tell me you’re not crying.”
“I had a really shitty night.”
“And you’re calling me?”
“Men suck.”
“Yeah, well, tell me something I don’t know.”
Emma sniffed again and then blew her nose. “You think men suck too?”
“Dumped by the love of my life, remember?”
“For being mean.”
“Yes,” Alison said softly.
Emma sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry. But . . . they say knowing the problem is half the battle. Maybe you can fix things. You know, by being not mean.”
“Again, is there a real reason for this call?”
“Yes,” Emma said. “Would you say I . . . use my emotional scars to keep people at a distance?”
“You’re asking me? I don’t even know you.”
“Yes you do. I’m the same Emma I was in high school.”
“Then I’d say you do the opposite of keeping people at a distance. You could use a little more of keeping people at a distance.”
“Gee, thanks. Maybe you could tell that to your cousin.”
“Oh, no. No, no, no . . . I’m not getting involved. If you’ve slept with him and are trying to tell me about it, our partnership is over.”
Emma bit her lower lip.
“Oh my God,” Alison breathed. “That’s what this phone call is about? You slept with him?”
“Kind of. Well, minus the sleeping part. But then Dale got hurt, and I think he’s blaming himself because he came up with some dumb reason why we’re not going there again.”
“Oh my God,” Alison said. “He’s still doing that?”
“Doing what?”
Alison sighed. “He’s got some stupid notion that he has to give up his life to watch out for his dad.”
“That’s not stupid. That’s admirable. But . . .”
“Where are you?”
“Paw Pals. My code won’t work. I need you to come down here so I can work instead of think about your stupid cousin.”
“If the code isn’t working, it’s because you didn’t do it right.”
“No kidding. Help me. I need to work, Ali.”
“Call me Ali again and you’re never getting in.” Alison sighed. “Why do you need to work? You’ve got everything all perfectly set up for tomorrow. And by the way, the twinkly lights hung in the shapes of puppies and kittens in the reception were a stroke of genius.”
“Wow, was that a compliment?”
“Yeah, but don’t get used to it. I hate the new sappy bedazzled leashes and collar line you brought in.”
“They’re going to sell like hotcakes.”
“Uh-huh. I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“Please, Alison.”
“Fine. I’ll be there in a few. I’ll accept payment in blissful silence from you.”
Emma snorted. “It’s comforting to know some things never change.”
“Right?”
Chapter 17
Step 17: Be vulnerable.
After disconnecting with Emma, Alison looked down at herself. She was in sweats, and not a cute pair of sweats either. Nope, these were her just-been-broken-up-with, aka laundry-day, aka have-to-kill-anyone-who-sees-me-in-them sweats.
She’d planned on wine and bed. She’d not planned on going out in public because her partner was having a bad night. But . . . there was something about even thinking the word partner that gave her pause.
In a shockingly good way.
She got to Paw Pals in six minutes and found Emma and Hog standing by the front door under the security light. Well, Emma was standing. Hog was lying down, snoozing. It made her miss Killer, who was with Ryan tonight. Probably having a great time. Maybe moonlight paddle-boarding past the surf break. Killer loved to stand on the front of the board in her little life vest, leading the way like she was captain of the ship. It never failed to make Ryan laugh. And damn, she missed his laugh.
Emma was watching her walk to the building from her car. “Whoa.”
Alison narrowed her eyes. “What?”
“Uh . . . nothing.”
“Say it.”
“Okay . . .” Emma looked her over again. “I’ve never seen you looking like a normal human being who possibly had a bad day. I like it,” she said and left Alison standing there with a boatload of defensiveness ready and nowhere to sling it.
“Where’s Killer?” Emma asked. “Ryan’s?”
Alison nodded and unlocked the front door with her code. Then she shut it again and gestured for Emma to try.
Emma, also wearing sweats, but somehow managing to look supercute, entered her code and . . . the door didn’t open.
Alison sighed, really not in the mood for this. “What’s your code?”
Emma shifted on her feet.
“Hello?”
“I don’t want to say.”
Alison stared at her. “If it’s the numeric equivalent for Simon, I swear—”