COLE
Friday evening, his boss's Great Dane drags Cole down the street toward Abby's shop. He grits his teeth, somewhat regretting that he volunteered to dog-sit while Laura went out of town with her husband and kids, but when you're at the bottom of the corporate ladder, kissing a little ass never hurts. He's a team player at work. More's the better if this reinforces that for his boss.
And besides, why not? Laura's a nice lady. He doesn't mind doing her a favor. And he likes dogs.
He also likes having feeling in his arm though, which seems unlikely to continue if Toto pulls it out of its socket like he's apparently intent on.
But the dog will save Em a little bit of time when she starts to tear him limb from limb. He can already picture her face when he gets there for the first of their meetings to plan the wedding. He'd conveniently neglected to mention that he'd have to bring the dog that night.
She's going to kill him.
He's ten minutes late when he arrives at Everything But. They're closed and the shop's door says "Bad Timing," but it's unlocked.
He wonders if Em knows or cares how transparent she is, texting to demand that they meet at her mom's shop. Not only couldn't she stand a conversation with him if it's not one hundred percent necessary, but she wants the home field advantage.
She probably knows he realizes that. And then she'd probably decided that having said advantage outweighed any negatives.
The bell tinkles gently as he enters and Em jerks her head up from where she'd been leaning over a sheaf of papers. Her eyes widen and she tugs on her ear at the sight of Cole's dog.
"If you bring that thing in here, I will kill you. Truce off," she says seriously, moving from behind the counter. Had he called it, or had he called it? She extends her hands, palms wide as though warding off the dog in advance.
"Look, I'm sorry," Cole apologizes, unhooking Toto's leash from his collar. The dog bounds gleefully into the shop. He prays that he doesn't break anything. Or eat anything. Some of Abby's crap looks expensive. "But he needs a lot of exercise and I got home from work late. I didn't have time to take him back home after our walk." He rolls his neck to release the tension. "I didn't know what else to do."
"Not bringing Scooby Doo into my mom's store would have been job one." She watches Toto inspect the crevices of the floor. "When did you get a dog?"
"I'm dog-sitting. And come on, he'll be fine while we work. He's just one little dog," he wheedles. It's not like he can tie him up outside. Even at eight o'clock, it's too warm out and there's no way he's going to chance Toto running out into traffic. Quite aside from his boss murdering him if anything happened to the dog, Cole likes the mutt.
"That is not a dog." She seizes a decorative table as Toto bumps into it and it wobbles dangerously. "That is a horse." She eyes the dog warily as he sniffs at her knee, flinching as his cold nose bumps her.
"He's a Great Dane. And his name is Toto," Cole says. He winces when Toto leaps up and barks in Em's face, paws squarely on her shoulders. She stumbles under his weight.
"Look," he says weakly. "He likes you."
She answers with an exasperated glare, shoving the dog's paws off of her. "Come on," she sighs. "There's less chance that you'll leave with a bill tonight if we just go upstairs and bring Seabiscuit with us. And there's the additional upside that I won't have to restock Mom's entire inventory either."
"Upstairs?"
"Mm. I live above the shop." She eyes him strangely. "Nikki told you this at the dress store the other day, remember?"
He does, but he'd also been very busy trying to keep his head afloat and not get pulled under by the river of awkward at said store.
"It's good for me and good for Mom. She gets someone to look after the store and I have a very short commute. And a little extra cash while I job hunt doesn't hurt either." Em brushes at the dog hair that Toto has already left behind on her black pants and tucks an errant strand of her own hair behind her ear.
"Of course," he murmurs, following behind her as they start to climb the stairs, Nikki's wedding "bible" clutched in her arms. He tries not to watch as her hips move from side to side with each step. Toto's tags jingle and his claws click on the wood floor as he follows behind them.
"Why on earth would someone name a giant like that Toto?" Em throws behind her. "If I remember The Wizard of Oz correctly, Toto was a nice, small dog."
"My boss appreciates irony. And so do I." He volleys the conversation back to her easily and walks into her studio.
His immediate reaction when he sees the boxes still stacked high around the room is to laugh. It's a familiar scene, Em among the boxes. Just like her dorm room. It doesn't look like she's unpacked a single one. Irony is one thing, but this is ridiculous.
"I love what you've done with the place."
She glares at him. "It's my mom's stuff and some of my things from college. I just brought a duffel bag back home from California. It's not like this is permanent."
Right. She isn't staying. He nods and tucks his hands into his pockets. "How's the job hunt going, by the way?"
"I don't know… not terrible, I guess?" He caught her by surprise with the question. She shuffles her feet, not comfortable admitting any sort of shortcoming. "I haven't had any real bites yet, but I have a phone interview in a couple of days."
Changing the subject, she deftly maneuvers around the boxes and into the kitchen. "Does the beast need any water?"
Cole watches, thinking again how familiar all of this is: Abby's stuff or not, when they'd been in college, she hadn't unpacked in the apartment that they'd lived in from sophomore year to graduation until he and Nikki had started doing it for her three months after they'd moved in.
She hasn't changed a bit.
He's not sure if that's a good or bad thing.
∞
Two hours later, he rubs his eyes with the heel of his hand. Settled onto the daybed that doubles as Em's couch, progress has been made, albeit haltingly. Em will have rein over the bridesmaids: their dresses, colors, and floral arrangements. And Cole will take care of the food. Mostly because Em's idea of quality cuisine has always been takeout or a microwaveable meal for one. With luck, the venue will help them figure out the rest.
He tries to volunteer to find the venue, but she shoots him down flat.
"Food's one thing," she tells him. "People will eat whatever free meal you put in front of them. If you've got venue ideas, that's fine, but there's no way we're booking them unless I see them too."
"Fine," he agrees tiredly. It's late. They've been at this for hours. "But I'm telling you there's no way we'll get an appointment to see this place. I already called and they don't have any times to show us for a month, especially since Nikki and Ron haven't set a date yet and it's not like we can book it."
She shakes her head. "Even if we had a date to work with, I'm sorry, but I'm not going to book the place, sight unseen. Whether you've been there before or not."
He opens his mouth to say something, but stops before speaking. She narrows her eyes at him; she has too much past experience with his body language and tells— those small betrayals that his face gives of his inward thoughts— to miss it. "What?"
"There is… one way we could see it," he says hesitantly.
Her gaze turns suspicious. "And what's that?"
He hesitates again. He can't believe he's saying this. Part of him thinks he should stop before he starts. "I'm going to a wedding there in a couple of weeks," he gets out slowly. "But I don't have a plus one yet..." Here, he trails off vaguely, but the intent is clear.
Em's face is inscrutable— even to him. She may still know his tells, but it's been too long since he was fluent in the minute alterations in her expression— the almost imperceptible crinkles of her eyes, the barest tightening of her lips. It's like finding a blank page in a story he's read hundreds of times.
Finally, though, she blurts a response. "Fine."
His head jerks up, thinking for a moment that he can't have heard her correctly. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." She stands and promptly trips over Toto, where he'd curled beside the daybed. She reddens.
Cole wants to laugh again. This is perfect. Not only will he be able to get her to relax at the wedding, but he knows Tori will be there. Maybe having Em with him will be enough to keep her at bay. "Okay, then," he says, rising to his feet. "We can check out a couple of other places in the meantime. And I guess I'll call you with the details?"
"That's fine," Em's tone is businesslike: deliberately clipped and detached as she busies herself with straightening a pillow. Cole holds out his hand and Em looks at it unreadably for a moment. After a second, she grabs his hand and shakes it firmly.
And in that second, his pulse jumps. He looks at the top of Em's bowed head. She refuses to meet his eyes. Her grip is tough, at odds with the soft palm in his hand. His grasp on her hand softens. His thumb rubs over hers—and once again, she drops his hand like it's scalded her and steps away.
She clears her throat, one hand resting on her neck. "I'll be in touch."
And she indicates the door.