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disapproval pounded into the one word. “Quite handy.”
    Quite expensive for what Tobias wanted to do, but saying that would highlight another reason for George’s anger. On paper the main store was his, Gabriella’s will had been very clear on the percentage. Though George and Tina would have given him the store without having to be asked.
    After Gabriella had been murdered, everybody had been knee-deep in his or her own grief. Guilt had trickled into his grief and it was hard to let it go. He had no trouble recognizing survivor’s guilt. Being a former homicide detective, he could point out the symptoms with ease. Knowing it was there didn’t make it any easier to muck through it.
    Tobias mucked through it, pointed out who put up majority of the cost, which he had to pay back to get both stores free and clear. If this branch of Caff-aholic did half as good as the main one, he’d have the rest of the money in six months. Less if he pinched every penny until it screamed uncle. They needed the money, though they’d never ask him for it and Tobias couldn’t get there in half a year if he refused to work with Emmaline Sharp.
    “Oh, well, about that…” He looked between them.
    Tina radiated support, and George was meeting Tobias’ gaze. Anger simmered right below the surface of the silent exchange. Every exchange they had included that pissed-off vibe for the general reason Tobias had slept with the man’s daughter. The added reason, his daughter left Tobias a gift. One Tobias kept rejecting. George saw it as crapping on Gabriella’s memory, and it was so far from what Tobias intended. Severing the connection would honor her life. Keeping it wouldn’t. Ever.
    The decision settled in his chest like a stone. “I don’t want to be tied up when Emmaline comes.” He looked at the clock hanging behind Tina’s head. “And, I won’t have numbers until the end of the week.”
    Tina turned her scowl his way, and George sniffed in irritation. “I didn’t say anything about the money until five minutes had passed,” Tobias said with a smile.
    “True,” Tina said. “I’ll give you that one.”
    “Eight minutes,” George corrected unnecessarily. “We’ll get out of your hair and check back with you later.” His tone said not to argue.
    “Thanks,” he bit out the polite word. Might as well practice now. Tobias was going to have to deal with Emmaline. Sans menace.

Chapter Four
    Emma glanced up at the sound of heels clacking against the hallway’s floor. Abigail stopped in the kitchen door, cocked a hip on the door jamb.
    “She’s experimenting,” Abigail called over her shoulder, presumably to Sasha. Where one went, the other followed.
    The black pants suit hugged all the curves Abigail had and hid any imperfection, if there were any. The red blouse gave a pop of color to the ensemble. “We’re going to need butter to grease our butts out the door.” Her friend sent her black strands flying with a shake of her head. “Wait, why don’t I smell macadamia nuts?”
    Sasha’s gauzy green dress flapped in an ethereal pattern as she came forward. “I don’t smell macadamia either. It’s a conspiracy.”
    Standing together, the pair of them were stunning. Too many days to count, Emma felt like she blended into the checkered floor. Emma wasn’t plain. She could hold her own when it came time to give off the vixen vibe. The difference, she wasn’t born with come-hither like these two. If she had been either one of her friends, Graham, the man who kissed her senseless, would have broken his neck to flirt with her.
    He hadn’t. Instead, he had stated the obvious in a brusque tone, never stopping to mention he’d kissed her and how dumb that was for him . He kissed someone he believed to be crazy. Pot, I would like you to meet Kettle .
    She sighed quietly. Emma had tried and failed to write Graham out of her mind once she put his coat in the closet. How many times did reality have to slap her in order to