Page 49

I was having a surprisingly hard time getting this new revelation to compute. Shaking off the unlikely mental picture of Emiel inviting a virtual stranger for coffee, I focused on the last part.
“It’sourchoice. Not my choice,” I protested. “This restaurant belongs to both of us. Have you changed your mind? Do you think this is the wrong decision?”
He shook his head without hesitation. “No. I told you before, I agree that fighting back is pretty much our only way to survive at this point, other than declaring bankruptcy and slinking away into the shadows of the restaurant industry with our tails between our legs.”
“But?” I prompted.
He blew out a frustrated breath. “But... I also have no real idea of what we may be getting ourselves—and our employees—into. This may come as a shock, but I don’t actually have any real-world experience with street gangs and the large-scale laundering of illicit drug money.”
Not for the first time, I felt a shiver of dread at what the future might hold crawling up my spine. I squared my shoulders and put a brave face on it.
“That’s all right,” I told him. “It just so happens, I know some people who do.”
There was a light on and the sound of someone moving around in the basement when I got home, so I went downstairs to find Emiel cleaning litterboxes while Princess supervised.
“Hey,” I greeted. “Have you been schmoozing my husband, using overpriced coffee as a bribe?”
He eyed me, straightening with a plastic scoop held in one massive hand. “Don’t think so. He was the one who ended up paying.”
Huh. So apparently Nat hadn’t been hallucinating, then. Until Emiel’s admission, I hadn’t completely discounted the evil twin theory.
I sat on the bottom step. “He said you were worried about me reopening the restaurant. You know, you can come to me directly with stuff like that.”
“I am,” he said. “And I could. But that wasn’t why I talked to him. Not really, I mean.”
I frowned in confusion. “It wasn’t?”
He shrugged. “I like the guy. Saw him at the gym and figured I might as well get to know him a bit better.”
The struggle not to say, ‘Okay, who are you and what have you done with Emiel?’ was surprisingly difficult.
“You... like my estranged beta husband?” I said instead. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but... why?” I realized how that sounded, and hastened to add, “Don’t get me wrong. He’s a generally good guy except for the crappy marriage stuff. It’s just... you barely know him.”
He fiddled with the scoop, his eyes straying to Princess. “He came here to make sure you were all right. Y’know, when you went into heat.”
I still wasn’t getting it. “Yes, he’s got a bit of a white knight complex. A lot of beta guys do.”
Now his soulful brown gaze met mine. “You shouldn’t blow it off like that. He was worried you might be in trouble, and he came to check. No one did that for me when I was young and needed help. No one did it for Luca, either.”
The sudden jolt in my chest felt like getting kicked by a mule. It was a good thing I was already sitting on the step, because I wasn’t sure my legs would have held me as understanding dawned.
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.
“Oh,” I managed hoarsely.
He tried on a flicker of a smile, but it slid away almost instantly.
“Yeah,” he said. “So, anyway, I like him. I know he was shitty to you in the marriage, but you still work with him, right? And you haven’t divorced him yet. Does it bother you that I talked to him?”
I tried to sort out my feelings in the wake of the metaphysical mule-kick. Emiel, who was so incredibly hurt and closed off, had reached out to someone who might have been his savior when he was young. Someone who was, as I’d just said myself, a generally good person. I turned the idea of Nat and Emiel becoming friends over and over in my mind, like a shiny puzzle piece.
“No,” I said eventually. “It doesn’t bother me at all. In fact, I think that’s kind of amazing.”