Page 25 of Royal Icing

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

“What? Yeah, it’s fine. I’m not worried about theLynoria Tribunalthinking I’m your secret American girlfriend or whatever. How are you feeling, by the way?”

“Feeling?” He raised his eyebrows.

She touched a hand to her throat. “From the whole…choking incident.”

He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

It was partially true. That moment had been on his mind all day. His throat was still raw from the effort of dislodging the pastry. The panic that accompanied the obstruction had been so visceral that he had gone to bed still shaky. If Emma hadn’t been around, he would have been all alone, unable to alert a staff member. He could be dead.

She reached over as if she was about to touch him but stopped. “It’s okay if you’re not. It’s terrifying.”

Leo paused. He could count on one hand the number of times someone had told him that feelings and vulnerabilities were okay. He didn’t know what to do with that information. Heresolved to google how to self-Heimlich and filed the idea away for now.

“I’m fine,” he repeated. “Ready to go?”

“Sure. Bye, Coop.” She bent over to kiss the dog between the small brown dots of his eyebrows.

“He’s a beautiful dog.”

“Thank you.” She shut the door behind them. “He’s the sweetest.”

“How long have you had him?”

They descended the stairs together and emerged into the frigid winter night. Massive snowflakes lazily drifted down.

“About three years. Someone abandoned him down by the docks in Brooklyn. I came across him on a walk and took him home with me. We’ve been together ever since. Do you have any pets?”

He shook his head. “My mother’s allergic.”

So she claimed, anyway.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” she said wistfully. “I would go crazy without Coop. He’s the best company. And he’s surprisingly invested in reality TV.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I think he belonged to a Real Housewife in a past life.”

Leo smiled. He had smiled more in twenty-four hours of knowing Emma than he had in months. It was a refreshing distraction from the stress of his project.

He waved as they passed through the gates on foot. Alejandro, the security officer on gate duty for the night, nodded at him from behind the desk.

“Do you have Christmas festivals at home?” Leo asked.

Their boots crunched over the fresh blanket of snow.

“Oh, yes. They’re so over-the-top and packed with the best food vendors. And incredibly crowded. My mom loves them. Or did love them, before her mobility challenges.”

“How do you and your mom celebrate the holidays now?”

Emma bit her lip and hesitated, like she wanted to divulge something. “Christmas is really important to us. We make a big show of it every year and do a bunch of super embarrassing stuff. One activity every day of December leading up to the holiday.”

Interesting. That was taking consumerism to a whole new level. And yet, he had to know more.

“Like what?” he asked as they descended the hill toward the glimmering lights of the village.

“I don’t think you want to know. You might think of me differently.”