You have one new voice message. To play your messages, press 1. To delete you messages, press 2. To hear your greeting press 3…
Emma pressed 1 as she dropped onto the stool by the kitchen counter, feeling exhausted to the core. She was home at 4PM, feeling absolutely exhausted, after having scrubbed Hunter’s entire house, grocerying for him, and picking up his dry cleaning. She was supposed to have had dinner ready for him too, but it was 3.30PM before she knew it and she wasn’t getting paid for overtime. She was sure she’d hear about it tomorrow. Whatever. She’d left before he had come home and had slipped his key under his doormat. Pretty basic protocol for a police officer.
The voicemail played; it was of a man who was clearly about the hit the bucket. He spoke slowly, and carefully.
“Hello, is this Emma Adenson? This is Patrick calling from the local bank up on Fourth Street. As the beneficiary of your father’s inheritance and land, we need to you to stop by and sign some paperwork. It’ll only take a few minutes and it’s just a legality we need to process. So at your earliest convenience, please stop by at 24 Fourth Street, right by the Farmer’s market. Thank you, and see you soon.”
Emma pressed 4 for delete on the landline phone and then simply sat there, trying to figure out how to dig herself out of the bullcrap she’d landed herself into. She simply couldn’t do five days a week at Hunters. It was so high handed of him, and she was sure that in some provinces, perfectly illegal.
She stilled as the thought rolled around in her head, innocently at first before solidifying into a fully-fledged idea.
Emma was out of her stool before she knew it and despite not having had a chance to eat lunch, she grabbed her purse and was out of her house in seconds.
It didn’t take her long to find what she was looking for. The Farmer’s market, stocked full of fruit and veggies she knew she couldn’t afford (yet), was in clear sight from her house by the lighthouse. It was a small little square in the middle of town, prepped with seven booths that sold seasonal food and home-cooked treats. She asked a little kid who was kicking around a soccer ball where the central library was and after looking at her like she was stupid, pointed her in the direction she needed.
A little bell jingled as she walked in, and the head librarian at the front desk looked up as she entered. The entire library wasn’t large; it was only one floor, lined with old bookshelves and cracked books, overtop an old, rugged carpet. It was toasty warm inside the place, and she took off her mitts to approach the woman standing nearby.
“Where can I find the computers?”
“By the back,” she said, clearly eyeing her head to toe, as if suspicious of the stranger. “You need to buy time for the internet though.”
“Okay, how much is one hour?”
“Two dollars.”
“Sure,” Emma fished the change out of her pocket and handed it over. She literally only had thirty-one dollars left, and needed to find a way out of Hunter’s trap pronto so she could start making some money. She was all about The Cinderella Story, and had no qualms about being rescued by knights in shining armour but this was reality. Replace knights with the federal tax agency and government loans instead.
A few minutes later and she pulled a chair into the computer desk, which was one of the old Microsoft models that looked like a big box. To her left, a little girl of about five was playing Neopets on the computer.
“Should I feed my pet an omelet or a kiwi?” she asked her randomly, her big brown eyes peering curiously up at her.
Oddly enough, it was the first form of genuine kindness she’d received since she’d been here and Emma smiled. Even though she hated kids. “Up to you kiddo.”
“I’ll feed her an omelet. Plain or veggie?”
“Uh… veggie?”
“Ew, no.”
That was the end of that conversation.
Emma spent the next fifty minutes googling and writing down all the relevant information that she could find on her notepad. She needed to build a solid case against Hunter, that would convince him to ease up on her, and she needed to find the definitions of all the big, scary words she could find. She was sure that by being such a big fish in such a small pond, he was used to getting his way all the time. So he needed to realize that when it came to her, it was another thing coming. She hadn’t lived in a big city with a single mom to grow up being thin-skinned. Learning how to swim with the sharks was what she’d been taught since day one.
Or- well, at least in theory. She had never needed to put it in practice. Until her mother’s passing, she’d lived in her comfortable shadow (happily so). It was only recently that she’d realized that the only person out there to help fend for her was… herself.
When she saw that she only had ten minutes left, she closed the current browsers and opened a new google search.
Leaning over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching, she typed in Hunter Stone and loaded the results.
It took a few moments because she was in the middle of nowhere but soon enough, a short profile of his came up on the local police department webpage. Good. The more you knew about the enemy – the better.
She printed it so that she didn’t have to keep the webpage open and shut everything down shortly after.
“Why did you print a picture of my uncle?”
Emma froze and looked down at the little girl sitting beside her. She was no longer playing her games online, but rather, watching her stoically. How long had she been doing that for?
“Hunter is your uncle?”
She nodded, one small fist holding onto the ends of her pony tail. “He’s my daddy’s baby brother.”
“Ah,” she nodded, her heart straining as she figured out what the fuck to do. “And are you going to tell your daddy I did this?”
The girl nodded.
“What’s your name?” Emma leaned down, hoping that the smile on her face was a warm one. She was never good at dealing with children. The moment they cried, they were alien to her.
“My name is Molly.”
“Molly, if I give you a chocolate, will you promise to keep this a secret?” The last thing she needed was for Hunter to know she was stalking him. Any sort of dignity she had would be lost entirely.
“My daddy says not to take chocolate from strangers.”
Damn it. She was smart.
“Okay, how about you tell me a secret then? We’ll trade secrets. You keep my secret, and I’ll keep yours.”
She thought about this for a while. “Ok. Uncle Hunter doesn’t know I was the one who pooped in his backyard but it was me.”
“Okay, good secret. Now we have to promise not to tell anyone okay?”
“Okay!” She gave her a huge grin and then suddenly gave her a hug.
“Molly? Who are you hugging?”
Molly let go and Emma immediately went to fold the paper of Hunter’s police department profile. When she looked up, she almost did a double take as a tall, starkly handsome man came walking in with another baby cooped up against his shoulder. He was nearly Hunter’s doppelganger, fit with a muscly build, dark hair, blue eyes and a smile that probably had already broken a few hearts.
“Sorry, I’m Emma – I’m new to town,” she stood up and was about to shake his hand when she saw he was holding a milk bottle in his free one. “You must be Molly’s dad.”
“Ah, yes. Hunter told me about you,” he had a knowing look in his eye, and Emma tried not to crumble beneath it. God, how many people knew she was working as Hunter’s maid already?
“Emma and I shared secrets!”
“Did you now?”
“I was just leaving...” Emma picked up her bag, and slipped the paper into her pocket. “But it was nice meeting you. And your daughter’s a sweetheart.”
“Sure. I’ll see you around, I hope,” he gave her a twinkling smile, and she feebly returned it as she tried to get out of there as fast as she could. She could feel the man staring at her as she ran out, but she didn’t care. The last thing she wanted was to know Hunter’s family. And Hunter was an uncle? That house of his was as empty and un-child-proof as it could get. She hadn’t seen that one coming.
And what type of water did the men in Hunter’s family drink? Were good lucks something they were all just gifted with? The fresh air felt like an icepack to her flushed skin, and she pounded down the sidewalk. That had been a close call and scenarios like what had just happened were reasons 1, 2 and 3 that children did not get along with her.
It was only when she was a few hundred feet away that she pulled out the paper from her back pocket.
The details on his biography were skin deep but it let her know a little bit more than she already did. He was 29, majored in social work, was a deputy by 25, sheriff by 27. Born and raised in Harbodale, and short stint in University of British Colombia.
The picture of him was annoyingly handsome. He was in uniform, with his hands folded across his chest. Maybe she could use this for dart-practice, or something.
She slowed down as her heartbeat returned to normal and then refocused on why she had gone to the library to begin with. She had a long night ahead of her.
xx.
Emma was at Hunter’s house bright and early, fifteen minutes before her daily start time. She was freezing in her winter coat, which was really her fall coat, but until she could save up some money – this would have to do for now. She rang his doorbell and then shifted from foot to foot, trying to warm herself up despite the chilly breeze and the inky dark night –or rather, morning sky.
A few minutes later, a disgruntled Hunter opened the door, half-way through the process of getting ready for his day. Just like yesterday, he wore no shirt, and his sweatpants were sitting dangerously low on his waist. He simply stood there, looking at her, as if not understanding why she was there.
“Are you going to let me in?” she finally said, rubbing her hands to warm up her fingers.
“You’re early,” he was glowering, and it made her stomach twist in nerves. He was already unhappy. What she was about to do was not going to make things better.
“Am I early? My clock must be wrong then,” she pushed past him anyway, and shrugged off her coat once inside. He sighed, and shut the door, locking it behind himself.
“I need you to pick up a shipment for me from the harbor today. A ferry from the city come in once a week at noon,” he walked by her to the kitchen, to pour himself a cup of coffee. She awkwardly followed him and put her purse on the couch, watching him from a distance. Nobody should be allowed to look that good, half-naked. His hair was tousled and he hadn’t shaved yet. A five-o-clock shadow darkened his jaw, which only made him more rugged, and devilish.
“Sure.”
It was then that he noticed the subtle note of nervousness in her voice and he paused. Leaning against the counter, he watched her from above his coffee cup. “You’re a little tense.”
“Am I?” Emma tried to brush it off, looking at anything but him. “Just tired.”
“You’re flushed.”
Why did he notice these things?
In fact…
She shifted as she realized that the mood in the room had suddenly taken a turn for something unwarranted. Was it her imagination or was he suddenly watching her a little more seriously than he should be?
For some reason, she found that she couldn’t move. She needed to get this out and over with.
“I drafted a new contact.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Did you now?”
“Yep,” there had been an old printer in the den on the second floor of her dad’s house that she’d managed to make work – after a good two hours of hitting and pulling and venting. “Here it is,” she rummaged through her purse to find it. She told herself to take deep, even breaths to stay calm. He wouldn’t listen to her if her voice shook.
When she looked back up, she saw that he’d begun to walk across the room to her. Damn it. Why did he have to do that? This would have been much easier had there been a good twenty feet between the two of them.
He stopped just a foot away from her and took the papers. He barely read through it before looking back at her, “I thought we were done this conversation yesterday.”
“Canadian property law states that the only person legally allowed to make changes that require monetary sums are the owner of said property, including but not limited to land, assets and v-vehicles,” she hoped he didn’t notice her stutter but knowing him, she was sure he caught on to it. “I could technically take you to court for throwing my car into the auto shop. Even though you’re a cop, you’re not above the law. But if you want to avoid paying the legal fees, you can sign this new contract and we can have this resettled, done, and over with.”
He was watching her guardedly, albeit with some amusement. She made sure to keep her eyes on his face, and not drop to his chest, which was dangerously close to hers at the current moment.
What she hoped that he didn’t point out was that if there was anyone out of the two of them that couldn’t afford legal fees – it was her. She was bluffing when she said that she’d take him to court. She couldn’t even afford a lawyer, let alone the costs of all the proceeding that came after. But he technically didn’t know that.
To her relief, he looked back down at the contract and spend a few minutes reading it through.
He snorted, “You want me to pay your grocery bills?”
She knew it had been a stretch, but she didn’t have any more money left and until she found a job that paid her in cash, she’d literally starve to death. “Take it or leave it.”
The contract was a bit of stretch, and she didn’t know how he would respond. She’d changed the five days back to four. The twenty two dollars to twenty-five, which meant she’d be done her favor to him in three weeks. She held her breath.
It felt like an eternity, but he finally looked back at her, “Fine.”
“Really?” the word blurted out before she could stop it, and she hoped she didn’t sound too incredulous. “I mean, ok. Good.”
He gave her a small, knowing smile, and suddenly time seemed to still as he leaned in closer. The air in her lungs felt like they were laden with heat, and she stopped breathing entirely. He raised a gently hand to the nape of her neck, which sent chills scattering down her arms.
Before she could ask him what he was doing, he whispered in her ear. Quietly enough so that she would hear it, and low enough so she knew he was serious, “careful who you play with, Emma.”
He pulled back and glanced at her briefly, long enough to see the pink tint to her cheeks and her flushed collarbone.
Hunter gave her a smirk, before picking up his coffee from where he had left it. “The to-do list is on the fridge. I’m going to jump into the shower, before heading out.”
She didn’t say anything as he deftly turned to leave and she sort of crumbled into the sofa once he was safely upstairs.
What the hell had just happened?