Murder Unmentionable Read Online Free PDF Page B

“If you decide not to go back to New York, it looks as if there might very well be something for you here in Paris.”

EMMA felt strangely shy around Brian the next day at Sweet Nothings. Not that she believed Arabella—Brian wasn’t interested in her, she was just his kid sister’s best friend.
    It didn’t help that Arabella kept referring to them as “you two” all day. Fortunately, Guy had gone out to scout locations for the Sweet Nothings online catalogue shoot. Emma didn’t think he was the jealous type, but she was glad she wouldn’t have to find out.
    “There you are, you two!” Arabella interrupted Emma’s thoughts. She was carrying a huge stack of glossy white boxes and could barely see around them.
    “Let me,” Emma began, but before she could complete the sentence, Arabella took a tumble and the boxes skittered across the floor.
    “Are you all right?” Emma and Brian asked in unison.
    “Of course, of course.” Arabella began to struggle to her feet. Emma and Brian each put a hand under her arms to help her up.
    “Are you sure you’re okay?”
    “Of course. Couldn’t be better.” Arabella put her foot down. “Ouch.”
    “What’s wrong?”
    “I must have twisted my ankle.”
    “You’d better sit down.” Brian picked her up in his arms as if she were a child and carried her to a chair. “Let’s see that ankle.”
    Arabella stuck her leg out, and Brian gingerly rotated her foot. “Ouch,” she said, wincing again.
    “I don’t think it’s anything serious. A sprain at the most. It’s probably best if you stay off it as much as possible.”
    “I can run down to the drugstore and get you a cane.”
    “Bah,” Arabella exclaimed. “Those ugly things! I’ve got a collection of walking sticks in an urn by the door. Bring me one of those.”
    Emma hurried to the urn and chose a hefty ebony stick with an ornate silver head. “Here. This should work.”
    Brian took the cane, weighed it in his hands and swung it in an arc as if batting a ball. “Well, if anyone tries to mess with you, you can clobber him with this. I don’t doubt it would do a good bit of damage.”
    “I’ll be fine. Stop fussing, you two.” Arabella smiled benignly at them.
    BY the time the day was over, all Emma wanted to do was go upstairs, shower, microwave a frozen dinner and veg out in front of the television. However, Guy had made reservations for the two of them at L’Etoile and would be waiting for her there.
    Emma was about to step into the shower when her cell rang. “Drat.” She pulled on her terry robe and went in search of the ringing phone.
    “Hello?”
    “Emma? It’s Kate.”
    “Kate.” Emma perched on the arm of an upholstered wing chair. Kate Hathaway was Guy’s longtime, and long-suffering, assistant. She and Emma had hit it off right away—bonding over Guy’s many and varied idiosyncrasies. Emma suspected Kate had put up with Guy so long because she was a little in love with him herself.
    “I’m sorry. I tried to reach you to warn you that Guy was on his way, but I was too late.”
    “I appreciate the effort.” Emma swung her foot back and forth. She really needed a pedicure, she thought, as she examined her toes. Maybe she would give Angel a call.
    “Has he persuaded you to come back with him?” Kate laughed as if she understood the absurdity of that.
    Emma sighed. “I don’t know, Kate. On the one hand, I’m having a blast here with my aunt Arabella, helping her redo her shop…on the other hand, Guy did manage to get me an interview at La Moda Italiana next week. You know I’d kill to work there.”
    Emma thought she heard Kate give a strangled gasp. “Are you okay?”
    “Fine. Some water just went down the wrong way.” She paused. “So? Are you coming back with Guy or not?” Her voice got higher at the end of the sentence—as if Emma’s answer had assumed an unnatural importance.
    “I haven’t decided.” Emma pushed off from the chair and got to her feet.