Falling for Emeralds by Katia Sommers

Author:Katia Sommers [Sommers, Katia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-05-12T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

His day refused to end. He kept busy with paperwork, ran errands, signed up new clients, updated his contact list, and the clock refused to tick. It wasn't even lunch yet.

Will plopped his forehead on his desk and blew out a breath heavy enough to rustle the papers onto the floor. "Great," he groaned.

The desk vibrated, and his arm shot out to collect his phone. A groan rose and died in his throat when he saw Genie's name followed by another flirtatious text message. The twenty sixth of the day.

He responded with a winky face, then sent off another text to Trevor.

How is everything?

A response came a minute later, and Will would have smiled at the annoyance infused in the words of the text if his nerves hadn't been strung onto a brittle thread.

She's working us until we bleed. Literally. You should see the paper cuts. We'll let you know if anything comes up. Until then, do your work and we'll do ours.

Will grunted, shoved the phone back in the drawer, and tried to concentrate on the document pulled up in his email. Another loan contract. At least he'd be able to waste a few hours trying to get through the jargon.

The clock couldn't strike noon fast enough. He grabbed his keys, left his phone behind, and raced home. Will stormed in the door to be greeted with two startled friends, and a bored look from Irish.

"Tell me you're here to help," Drew moaned. Four of his fingers had bandages wrapped around the tips.

"Forgot my lunch," he shrugged. Irish had already returned to reading the page in her hands.

"I thought you ate out for lunch?"

"Trying to stay fit," he replied, the irritation creeping under his skin expelled into his words. Lie. Sort of. He didn't really care, but Genie did, and she ran the household since apparently he didn't do it right.

He stood at the fridge, one hand rested on the handle, the other a loose fist on his hip. How could Irish denounce her nickname for him and then pretend they're not even friends.

"Can I talk to you?" he blurted out.

Drew and Trevor stared at Irish until she could no longer ignore them and looked up. She met Will's glare with drooping lids. "What can I do for you?"

"Can we step out back?" He saw his friends stir in their seats, exchange knowing glances, but they didn't say anything.

Irish stepped out in front of him when he held his arm out to motion her forward. She wrapped her arms across her stomach, rubbed her hands over her exposed skin, and Will felt a new surge of anger at the bruises on her forearm.

"What did I do?" Will asked when they crossed the yard to occupy a white wooden bench swing nestled in between two gardenia bushes.

"Nothing, Will."

"Jack," he hissed.

He had to pause to collect himself before this devolved into a fight. That's not what he wanted. Quite the opposite, actually. Before he returned to work, he wanted his best friend back and the easy camaraderie that came with it.

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