Page 6 of Christmas with a Chimera (Claw Haven)

It was better this way, Emma told herself as she pored over the paperwork.

She’d been meaning to sort out this tax stuff for months.

Now she finally had a chance. She could lock herself in the office, and nobody would be knocking on the door asking where they kept the receipt rolls or how to void a sale without restarting their glitchy POS systems.

A knock on the door jolted her out of her annoyed paperwork haze.

She sighed, scooting her wheelie chair over and grabbing the door. “What?”

Rusty blinked down at her. He had on a backward cap with a pen shoved behind his ear, his glasses magnifying his eyes to double the size.

“Hey,” he said distractedly. “Want to be an extra?”

Emma glared. “I can’t think of something I’d rather do less.”

She started to close the door.

Rusty shoved his foot in the way. “We need someone who can carry four plates at once.”

“So get Daisy.”

“She burned her hand.”

“What?” Emma stopped trying to pull the door closed on his foot. “How?”

Rusty sighed. “As I understand it, your other employee—”

“ Goddammit , Hazel. Is Daisy okay?”

“She’ll be back tomorrow.”

Emma looked longingly at the paperwork she’d just been stressing over. “How long will this last? I’m busy.”

“Just a few takes.”

She eyed him. Rusty had been all smiles when he met her yesterday, but they were all perfunctory. Fleeting. He had completely ignored anyone unless he thought they were important. Exactly the kind of LA bullshit Emma had expected out of him.

He examined his watch. “We’re kind of on a schedule. So either you come with me, or I start scouting the other cafés, and I’d really rather—”

“I get paid as an extra on top of my usual renting rates?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

Emma stood, her wheelie chair bouncing off her desk. “Let’s get this over with.”

* * *

She held still for the makeup artist. She even put up with one of the assistants fixing her collar, getting up in her personal space without asking. But she drew the line at giggling .

“It’s just a little giggle,” Rusty said, a look on his face like he regretted not grabbing someone from Creature Comforts. “You go over, he says the line, and then you—”

“Giggle, no, I heard you.” Emma glared over at Arthur, who was currently sitting at a window table with his costar seated opposite him.

They were talking idly between takes, the costar reaching over to bat his shoulder.

She was a giggler. She looked adorable, nose scrunching up like a chipmunk, head tipping back.

The kind of girl who put up with Arthur’s bullshit.

She was probably charmed by it. Just like the girl that Rusty was telling Emma to be.

“I’m not an actor,” she reminded Rusty. “You said I’d just be standing there.”

“Script rewrites.” Rusty rubbed his cap tiredly. “Fine. No giggle. Just…have some reaction. Alright? Some realistic reaction that shows how much his flirting affects your character.”

Emma stared at the back of Arthur’s head. Did he put his director up to this? Would he really go that far? She wouldn’t put it past him to try something like this. But it seemed…cruel. He was never cruel —not on purpose, anyway. Just careless.

“I thought he was romancing blondie,” she said.

“He is. He’s showing her how seductive he can be.”

Emma laughed bitterly. “Sure. And why am I carrying all the plates?”

“It shows how busy you are. Which makes it all the more effective when he makes you pause.”

Emma regretted ever giving Luna Musgrove the time of day.

An assistant handed her the plates of cold food. Emma stacked three along one arm, then took the cold coffee with her free hand.

“Alright,” Rusty called over the still café. “Everybody in place? Great. Action!”

Arthur and his costar started talking, leaning over the table like something was pulling them together.

Even fuming, Emma had to give it to him—he played his role well.

Hollywood had typecast him as the handsome, charismatic chimera who could either save the day or reveal he was the bad guy at the end of the movie.

But he was always smooth, no matter what. Always dazzling and confident.

That was what Emma had heard, anyway. She hadn’t watched any of his movies.

Rusty nudged her. “Your cue,” he whispered.

Emma blinked. She hadn’t been listening for the line.

She walked toward the table. Act like you usually would during the lunch rush, Rusty had told her. You’re expecting a normal interaction, in and out.

Emma slid the plates onto the table. They were leaning toward each other so far that it was hard to put the plates down.

“I can prove it,” Arthur was telling his costar. Then he turned toward Emma. “Thanks for—”

He stopped, startled. Maybe he hadn’t put Rusty up to this, Emma realized.

“Cut,” Rusty yelled. “Arthur, what was that?”

Arthur straightened, pulling up that megawatt smile once more. “Sorry, Rust. I didn’t know you were bringing old friends on board! Is Daisy okay?”

“She’ll be back tomorrow. We made do,” Rusty said, flipping distractedly through a clipboard. “Let’s reset.”

Emma walked back out of the frame, hoping her cheeks didn’t look as hot as they felt.

She could see Hazel giving her a thumbs-up from behind the counter, which she resolutely ignored.

She was worried that Hazel would try to apologize for burning Daisy again if she made eye contact, and Emma would snap at her again.

“Okay,” Rusty declared. “And…action!”

Arthur and his costar sank back into the conversation. This time Emma actually listened to their lines. They were talking about their exes and what had attracted them to them in the first place. Arthur was arguing that seduction was about playing a part. Showing them what they want to see.

“There’s an art to it,” he said.

That was Emma’s cue. She strode out, clenching the plates so her hands wouldn’t shake.

She hated how much of an effect his stupid monologue was having on her.

She’d been over their relationship in her head so many times since he left— was it all an act?

Did he ever really love her, or was she just something to entertain him before he escaped to bigger horizons?

“I can prove it,” Arthur continued. This time when he looked up at Emma, his dazzling smile didn’t falter.

“Thanks for that,” he told her as she set the food down.

Emma didn’t respond. She sometimes didn’t when it got this busy, just shooting customers a distracted smile and then heading off to whatever needed doing next . You don’t need to giggle , she told herself as she slid the cold coffee in front of him. Just need to look up at him and —

Arthur’s warm fingers brushed her chin.

Emma looked up, hand tightening around the coffee cup. Suddenly she was seventeen again, sitting under the bleachers after gym class. Watching him tip her head back with those big, gentle fingers. Saying—

“Hey, beautiful. I hope that coffee’s as sweet as you.”

Emma blinked, coming back to the present. His fingers were still on her chin. Thumb and forefinger, just like he used to. For a moment his eyes were so soft she could almost fool herself into thinking time had folded in on itself and they were back under the bleachers again that very first time.

Then he smiled. It was a movie star smile, the one she used to catch him practicing in the mirror.

White-hot rage blossomed all over her body. How dare he pull this crap on her? Showing up at her café, following her when she tried to storm off. And now he was touching her just like he used to, grinning like it was a joke .

She could feel the director’s eyes on her, waiting.

You want a reaction? Emma thought. I’ll give you a reaction.

She turned the cup over, sending a torrent of coffee into Arthur’s lap.