Page 24 of The Clover Chapel (Jamison Valley 2)
“Old acquaintances,” I said at the same time Nick said, “Married”.
I guess he wasn’t as deep into his conversation with Jess as I’d thought.
“Right.” Gigi grinned.
“It’s complicated,” I said as Nick nodded in agreement.
“Why’d you move to Prescott? Not for this asshole, I hope,” Jess teased.
“Uh, no.” I shook my head. Not wanting to delve into the drama that was my marriage, I told them how I’d come to find Prescott. “I graduated from NYU last spring and started looking for kindergarten teacher positions around the country. It’s actually silly how I landed in Prescott. I chose the mascot I liked best.”
“Seriously?” Gigi giggled.
“Yes, and let me tell you, there were some interesting choices. Snapping Turtles. Sugarbeeters. Blue Ponies. I wanted something other than Lions, Tigers or Bears so when I saw that Prescott had the Mustangs, I liked it and . . . here I am.” I laughed.
Jess and Gigi both laughed with me, but Nick scowled.
“What?” I asked.
“You said you were at Yale,” he said.
“I was. Nine years ago. I haven’t been in school this whole time.” I rolled my eyes. “After I worked for a few years, things changed. I went back to school at NYU to become a teacher.”
An awkward silence fell over the table.
“Sounds like you two have some catching up to do,” Gigi said, finally clearing the air.
“It’s complicated,” I repeated.
Conversation lightened as Rowen took over, telling us stories and asking questions. By the end of the meal, all of the awkwardness from earlier had vanished and we all cheerfully exited the café.
I was glad things hadn’t been uncomfortable with the Clearys. I hadn’t seen them since I had so rudely bolted from their Halloween party and was relieved they were reserving judgment.
After bidding farewell to Jess, Gigi and Rowen, I stood on the sidewalk, waiting as Nick said his good-byes. There was no escaping a discussion with Nick about date three, so I stayed put rather than disappearing to my car.
With one last wave to my student, I turned to Nick.
“Tomorrow night, I’m coming to your house. No more distractions or public places, Emmy.”
I didn’t argue about the date’s location because he was right. Plus, a private setting would give us time to talk.
“Emmeline,” I corrected. “Are there any toppings you don’t like on pizza? I’ll pick one up for us.”
“Mushrooms. Everything else is fine,” he said.
“See you tomorrow.” I nodded and walked away.
Two dates down. Three to go.
“Shit!” I yelled as I flew forward.
Since the day I’d moved in, I had been tripping on a small wri
nkle in the living room’s tan wool carpet.
Normally, I’d land on my hands and knees. But tonight, I was hauled backward by a strong arm banded around my waist.
“Gotcha,” Nick said into my hair.
