Crazy About You (3 page)

“Cracked? As in broken? Christine is gonna kill you. Here, lemme see.”

Chase’s eyebrows shot up with sudden realization. The blonde had never returned his phone.

Chapter Three

Emma nursed a growing headache during the drive along I-95 down the Connecticut coastline. Her forehead throbbed despite several ibuprofen and the liberal, eco-unfriendly overuse of the car’s AC. She wondered if she might have a teensy concussion as she daydreamed over its grey-eyed source.

Tony interrupted her fantasy as they passed the exit for New Rochelle. “Hey, since we’ll be back in the city soon enough, do you want to hit that event at the Plaza?” Tony smiled and pumped his eyebrows at her. “You’ve raised a hell of a lot of support for Eco Dawn through the mayor’s office. I think you deserve to be there when the company founders announce the expansion plans for Boston.”

Emma laughed at the idea anyone would care if she attended the announcement or not, and immediately regretted it. Her brain pounded out a fresh drumbeat against her skull. “I need to go home and sleep. Knocking heads with that guy wasn’t my best move. I’m still seeing twinkling stars floating around my forehead like a cartoon.”

Tony frowned, his eyes sliding sideways to assess whether she was serious. “I’m sure you’re fine. You didn’t black out, right? Come on. It’ll be fun. They’ll have those shrimp puffs you like so much. And I know Mancini ordered your favorite pinot grigio for the event.”

Emma contemplated her options while rubbing her sore head. Pinot grigio or her cold empty apartment? “You are so convincing when you want something. Maybe that’s how you get the big fish to write those checks.” She cracked a smile. “We make a good team, you know. Too bad we can’t be more than friends.”

He reached over and patted her shoulder. “Sorry to disappoint you, babe. You’re like my best friend, but I promised my dying mother I would only date Italian girls. And you know how much I loved my mother.”

She rolled her eyes, glad he couldn’t see the sarcastic move in the darkened car. She’d never actually met any of Tony’s family, but he quoted his sainted mother at least once a week. Not that she really believed the part about only dating Italian girls. Or that he dated girls at all.

“Besides. You’re not my type.”

She pretended to be offended. “Oh, yeah? What’s your type?”

“Italian. Catholic and Italian.”

She’d heard this mantra before. “Catholic and Italian with big boobs,” she added.

“Of course,” he said, sounding affronted. “I thought that went without saying.”

She laughed. This time didn’t hurt as much. “Yeah, right. So blonde and Irish is out?”

“You betcha. But we can still be friends.”

“
Like best friends
,” she echoed his own words back to him. “Except my mother thinks you’re really my boyfriend, you know. She’s pissed that we’re planning to be roommates.”

“Do you want me to set her straight?” His face shone with sincerity when he looked at her instead of the highway. “There’s nothing more important than family sticking together. You’re like family to me, Emma. Truly.”

“Eyes back on the road. And thanks but no, I’ll work it out.” She considered her receding headache for a moment. Maybe the ibuprofen finally kicked into gear. “What’s the dress code for tonight?”

“Business casual. It’s a Monday, after all, not a weekend.” He gave her a quick once-over. “If you have those strappy heels we bought at Bergdorf last Sunday and maybe a bright scarf in your overnight bag, you could make that outfit work.”

“Okay, let’s do it. But I’m not staying out late.”

“Whatever you want, babe.”

****

It was well after ten before Tony pulled the car to the curb in front of her apartment building. Emma’s eyes burned with exhaustion. The party had been fun, and it was great to reconnect with old coworkers and contacts, but the only thing on her mind at the moment was bed. And sleep.

As the rumbling old elevator made its slow ascent, she thought back over the long day, one that had begun light years from where she stood now. Provincetown was only 300 miles away, but felt like a totally different world all its own.

She wondered if her mother regretted their argument. With a broken cell phone, Emma hadn’t been able to finish the inane conversation they’d started at the shop, or correct her mother’s backward thinking about why she was moving in with Tony. How could she convince her mother she wasn’t sleeping with the guy? You would think after living in Provincetown for most of her life, her mother would have better tuned “gay-dar,” but she’d been way too focused on the Italian mobster scenario to realize Tony wasn’t interested in a sexual relationship with Emma.

Tomorrow would be soon enough to set the record straight, she decided, and slid her key into the deadbolt lock on her apartment door.

The insistent beep of the answering machine greeted her, echoing through the mostly empty apartment. Kathy already moved her stuff into Jim’s place, and much of Emma’s stuff sat in boxes as well, leaving shelves and walls bare. She dropped her travel bag on the kitchen floor and silenced the electronic noise, doing a double take at the message counter.
Eighteen new messages?

She hit play and leaned against the counter, rubbing her forehead. The first three were from friends with questions about Kathy’s upcoming September wedding. The fourth was from a coworker, about some paperwork she’d turned in the prior week. The next was from her mother.

“Emma, I’ve been trying to call your cell phone but it goes straight to voice mail. I’m sorry we argued but you need to call my cell as soon as you can.” Click.

Emma stared at the machine, her mother’s voice filling the room a second time, sounding a little more desperate and to the point. “Emma, call me.” Click.

The third message from her mother had more information, but not much. “It’s about Sean. Please call me.”

Her skin prickled with unease, wondering what kind of trouble her big brother had gotten into now. Something important enough—or stupid enough—to overshadow her non-marital living-together-with-a-so-called-mobster choices.

Always leave it to Sean to steal the spotlight.

She hit Delete and listened as the next ten messages were empty hang-ups. Finally, another message, this one from her father. “Emma, it’s Dad. Your mom and I are in Boston, at the hospital with Sean. The doctor thinks his appendix may have burst while we were out in the boat today, and he’s in surgery now. Call us when you can. Your mom has the cell phone glued to her hand.”

She grabbed the phone from its cradle and dialed. The thought of her family in Boston without her set her on edge. She hated hospitals.

“Emma!” Her mother practically yelled her name. “Where’ve you been?”

She ignored the question. “How’s Sean?”

“Still in surgery.” There was a long pause. “I honestly thought it was the flu. I had no idea how sick he was. He could’ve died out on the water…” The rest of her mother’s words were unintelligible through the muffled sobbing.

“Mom? Mom?” Emma strained to hear what was happening, her stomach twisting into knots. Finally the crying faded amidst shuffling noises.

“Emma, honey? It’s Dad.”

“Is Mom okay?”

“She’ll be fine, but the waiting is tough. That and the guilt. The doctors said there’s no way to really know with appendicitis. One of the nurses told us surgery is going well, and they’re closing him up now. Your brother’s going to have a helluva scar, and one helluva story.”

“How long will you all be in Boston? Do you want me to come back?” As much as she hated hospitals, she wanted to be there for Sean.

“Wait, aren’t you at home? I was hoping you could take care of feeding Hershey.”

Emma rolled her eyes. Her father and brother had left to catch the evening tide right after dinner the night before, missing the fireworks. “No, Dad, I’m back in New York City. Mom told us we weren’t welcome to stay under her roof if Tony and I weren’t planning to get engaged before living together.”

He swore under his breath before clearing his throat. “Let’s see what the doctors say and then talk in the morning.”

“Do you want me to call a neighbor to feed the dog?”

“Don’t worry about it, Em. I’ll deal with it.”

“Okay, Dad. But call me if anything changes.” They said their goodbyes and Emma hung up, feeling helpless and guilty. If only she and her mom hadn’t fought. If only her cell phone hadn’t broken. If only her mother’s attention hadn’t been focused on Emma’s living situation, maybe she would’ve realized how sick Sean really was.
If only, if only.

“He has to get better,” she said, making her decision. Much as she hated hospitals, she needed to be there for Sean. She punched Tony’s number into the phone, thankful Kathy insisted on a landline when so many of their friends only owned cell phones. Her call went straight into voice mail without ringing.

She took a deep breath and left a message. “Hey, it’s me. You won’t believe this, but my brother is really sick. I need to head back to the Cape, and have the rest of the week off from work, so…” She paused. “I’ll have to get a new phone while I’m there, but in the meantime, you have the number at the house.”

She’d wrestled with her phone’s black screen of death for a while on the car ride before giving up. Emma rummaged through her bag, deciding to try charging it to solve the problem…only the phone she pulled out wasn’t hers. And this screen was most definitely cracked.

The stranger’s smile flitted through her mind, the memory of his stormy grey eyes making her heart race and her cheeks flush with heat. The cell vibrated in her hand. Startled, she looked at the cracked glass and realized the ringer had been muted. A missed call symbol glowed at the top of the screen, looking broken in half by the spider web of crackles. Emma wondered if it was safe to use, but curiosity won over safety. “Hello?”

“So you finally decided to answer.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve been calling for hours.”

“I’m sorry, the sound was turned off.” She bit her tongue.
Why am I apologizing?
Oh right, she’d technically stolen the guy’s phone.

“Well, I need my cell. Can you meet me tonight for an exchange? I’ll give you back the wad of cash your boyfriend stuffed in my pocket.”

Emma sighed, too tired to point out that Tony wasn’t actually her boyfriend. Why did everyone make the same assumption? “I can’t. I’m not in P-town.”

“But I need the phone. There are pictures on there I have to upload as soon as possible!”

“Pictures?” The seminar she sat through at work last week sprang to mind, on proper and improper cell phone usage. Several New York politicians had been taken down by scandals in the last few years. “Like the Anthony Wiener sort of photos, or what?” She bit her bottom lip, almost immediately regretting her teasing tone. Of all the things she could have said, why did that pop out of her mouth? It’s not like she was thinking about him naked. She remembered the solid feel of his body and pictured those grey eyes over washboard abs.

“Uh, no. Nothing like that. Work stuff.”

She smiled, relieved to hear him make light of her inappropriate innuendo. “Listen, I’m sorry I ended up with your phone. I can be such a space cadet! But I’m headed back to Cape Cod in the morning and can meet you then.”

“I’ll be out on the ocean all day, but I’ll call you when we dock.”

“My phone’s not working. In fact, I’ll probably have to visit the phone store as soon as I hit town. I’ll call you when I have a new one.”

“Except you have
my
phone.”

She blinked at the cracked screen next to her face. “Right. So I guess you can call me, but on your number. So call yourself. Wait, that sounds weird.”

A low rumbling laugh vibrated through the phone and ran right down her spine. “You know, I don’t even know your name.”

“Emma. Emma Maguire.” A smile played on her lips.

“Okay, Emma-Emma. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Click.

Oh crap.
She forgot to ask his name. Again. She had no idea who the cute stranger was or what he did for a living, only that he had an assistant named Christine and a penchant for breaking equipment. And the dreamiest eyes she’d ever seen.

Well, no matter. Right now she needed to focus on reserving a last minute rental car. Maybe she should postpone her impending move? She’d scheduled the truck for Sunday morning, only because it was cheaper to move mid-month than wait for the Labor Day rush. Granted, her brother could rally and be all better in a day or two and she could be back in the city by then. But probably safer to see about changing the date. Her lease wasn’t technically up until August 31st.

The phone in her hand buzzed and she nearly dropped it. Again.

The display showed a photo of a man in a dark suit, the contact info under it reading “Jeff, NOAA Director.” She let it go to voicemail.
Mr. Stormy Grey Eyes works for NOAA?

The acronym stood for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. Their National Marine Fisheries Service division regulated fisheries up and down the Atlantic coastline and levied stiff fines against commercial fishermen who didn’t play by their ever-changing rules. Her father and brother hated NOAA and NMFS and their archaic pronouncements, making no secret of their feelings. They weren’t the only fishermen who felt that way. She didn’t understand the acrimonious attitudes, but knew it was one big bucket of chum she didn’t want to pop open.

Heaving a huge sigh, she put the phone back into her bag. She’d meet the guy to return his cell, but she didn’t want to get any more involved in whatever it was that brought him to Provincetown, or any of the trouble that might be brewing over fisheries or rights. No matter how cute he was. She pushed those swirling grey eyes out of her mind, chastising herself for daydreaming about some nameless guy she’d bumped into on the street. Literally.

But first things first. She needed to get back to Massachusetts.

Emma picked up her landline and dialed the cell number for the mayor’s personal secretary. She’d seen her an hour earlier at the Eco Dawn party—the whole team from the mayor’s office turned out for the event, causing Emma to stay much later than she’d intended. “Hi, Gretchen, it’s Emma. Sorry to call at this hour.” She paused, listening to Gretchen babble about how wonderful the party was, surprised by how friendly she sounded.