her a little dizzy.
“Yeah,” Carol pleaded. “You can finish organizing tomorrow. Besides, this is a great way to meet anyone you might have missed.”
When had Emilie become such a coward? She’d come here hoping to heal and wasn’t going to do that sitting in her room alone every night. All she had to do was visit with people other than Tom. He had asked her to get involved and get to know everyone, and she’d made a commitment to do just that.
She straightened. “Okay, okay, you’ve convinced me, I’ll come.” It was past time for her to take affirmative action, to remind herself she was more than a childless widow. Time to make a new plan.
“Yay,” Sharon said, pumping her arm in the air. “Let’s go.”
Emilie followed Sharon and Carol out and down the hall. They led her to the cafeteria, but the kitchen and seating area were dark. A large-screen TV lit up the far wall.
The place was full of people, almost every seat occupied, and it was too dark to tell who was who. The two women disappeared into the crowd.
How was she supposed to meet or chat with anyone like this?
Emilie turned to go, but one of the shadowy figures at the back, a man with wide shoulders and narrow hips, waved, pointing to an empty seat next to him. She sat and turned to thank him.
Tom. Her heart rate sped up.
He gave her a big grin. “Glad you decided to join us,” he said in a low tone that wasn’t quite a whisper. “When you weren’t in your room I’d wondered where you’d gone.”
“I was working, but Sharon and Carol begged, bargained and bribed me into coming.” Emilie looked around. “Unfortunately, they’ve abandoned me already.”
He shrugged, still smiling. “Their loss, my gain.”
He shouldn’t look at her that way, like he was glad to see her and interested in what she had to say. “Listen,” she began. “About that conversation you wanted to finish.” She glanced away and shook her head. “I’d rather not.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He actually sounded regretful, and surprise had her darting a gaze at him.
“Because you and I need to work together for the foreseeable future.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Closely together.”
His smile and touch were warm and comforting, and she shivered with the desire to melt into him.
Resist, she had to resist. “I’m just not comfortable talking to someone I’ve just met.”
Tom’s smile slipped for a moment, but returned a second later. “Most of the normal social rules don’t apply here.” He took her right hand in his. “You and I, we’re a team. We’ve got to be tight.”
“What—” she stared at their joined hands, almost afraid to finish the question, “—do you mean?”
He shifted toward her. “Remember what I said about trust? Either one of us may need to make a judgment call that could affect every single life here at any time, and we may not have time to explain our decisions. That’s why we have to get through this awkward get-to-know-you stage as quickly as possible.”
“I know nothing about you except that everyone thinks you’re some kind of saint or fallen angel, depending on who you talk to. But you haven’t told me anything.”
He shrugged and sat back. “What do you want to know?”
Good grief, did she have to give him a questionnaire? “Where are you from? Are you married? Do you have any kids? Occupation? Why are you here? What flavor of ice cream do you like?” She threw her hands up in the air. “Whatever you care to tell me.”
“Philadelphia. No. None. Power engineer and paramedic. Strawberry.”
She crossed her arms. “You missed one.”
He ticked items off on his fingers. “Hometown, marital status, kids, occupation and ice cream. Nope, I got them all.”
“You forgot the one about why you’re here.”
He grinned. “Because this is the coolest place to work on earth. Literally.”
“Very funny. You want me to spill my guts, yet you give me one word, flippant
Chris A. Jackson, Anne L. McMillen-Jackson