Person of Interest (A Celeste Eagan Mystery) (23 page)

He eyed me with a curious gaze as he retraced his steps. When he got within arm’s reach, I snagged the front of his shirt and pulled him down for a long-overdue, toe-curling kiss. I moaned as much from his magnificent touch as from the tenderness of my stupid lips. But it was oh-so-worth the little bit of pain when he deepened the kiss. His hands gentled at my waist as he eased closer. Kissing him could become my new favorite thing, right above coffee—that’s how good it was.

When he finally drew back, his eyes were clouded over.

I released his shirt but kept my hand on his chest. “No. No phone call. No checking up. Saturday night you come by here around seven. Pick me up. We’re going out on an actual date.” I playfully slapped his cheek then pushed him back toward the street where he’d parked.

He didn’t say a word, just stared at me a little dumbstruck as he walked away.

Levi was at my elbow before Muldoon even reached the car. He led me into the house and back to the kitchen. “That was some kiss.”

“It’s not nice to spy, Levi.”

“
Moi
? I’d never. And y’all weren’t talking loud enough to hear. What did you say?”

“I told him when to pick me up for our date.”

“Look at you.” He shook his head with a laugh. “Come sit, eat. Food’s getting cold.”

The entire table was covered with food. He’d bought Thai takeout as well as a pizza and two heaping bowls of pasta salad. “Are you expecting company?”

“Only one—”

“Mom!” Paige came barreling in from the hallway. “I’ve missed you so much.” She threw her arms around my waist. “What did you do to your arm? Were you scared? I can’t wait for you to tell me everything that happened.” She chatted away a mile a minute—a mini-version of me.

Tears filled my eyes. I’d missed my munchkin so much. Over the top of her head, I mouthed, “Thanks, Levi. I love you.”

“You too, sweets,” he mouthed back then pulled out a chair for me. “Sit.”

Over dinner, Paige asked question after question. I gave her a
very
diluted version of my encounter with Danny, enough for her to think I was wonderful but not enough to know how perilously close she came to losing me. When we finished eating, Paige wanted to call her dad and tell him of my heroism. Who was I to stop her?

* * *

A few days later, we were sitting at my dinner table having a repeat of the feast from hell—Levi didn’t think we were eating enough with my arm still in a sling—when the phone rang. It was Colin wanting to talk to Paige. Even though he saw her every day at school, he’d called every single night, usually about the time we sat down to dinner. I wondered if something was going on with him, but not my monkey, not my circus.

“Sweet pea, it’s Daddy.” I handed her the phone and snagged the last egg roll from the table. “Oh, guess what.”

“Hmm?” Levi looked up from his cell phone.

“Coz called me earlier today. The school agreed to the severance package he drew up.” I nibbled on the end of the egg roll, but was too full to eat another bite. I dropped it to my plate and leaned back in my chair. “He said the school
may
have been under the impression that I
might
sue and take it to the media if they drew this out.”

“So when do you start at the playhouse?”

“Monday morning.”

Levi made a face.

“What?”

“You and access to all those costumes.” He shuddered but a huge smile split across his face.

Paige came bounding back into the room. It did my heart good when she acted like an actual ten-year-old. “He wants to talk to you.” She held the phone out to me.

Why me? I shook my head before I put the phone to my ear. “Yes?”

“Hey, Celeste. How are you doing tonight?” You could almost hear the smile in his voice.

My Spidey sense alerted. Colin was being far too congenial. “I’m fine.” I toyed with the egg roll on my plate. When he didn’t speak right away I rolled my eyes. “Did you need something? Besides asking how my night is?”

“I, um...”

Great. Colin was about to hit me up for something big. Shades of our conversation right before Chad’s death flashed through my brain. A chill scampered down my spine. Not again.

I don’t know if I was frowning or what but Levi reached across the table and squeezed my hand before he mouthed, “Everything okay?”

I nodded, though I wasn’t entirely sure. “Spit it out, Colin.”

“The last time Paige was over she was talking up your playhouse.”

I closed my eyes.

“Naomi—”

“Don’t you dare say it,” I said almost under my breath.

“—would like to try out for the play, but the director told her auditions were closed.”

“Then they probably are,” I said with clenched teeth.

“But you can get her to make an exception, right?” He paused. “C’mon, Celeste. All you have to do is put in a good word for Naomi.”

“You must be insane.” Like I would ask Annabelle to cast Naomi. Not even for an ensemble role. “I haven’t even started working there, yet.”

“Do it as a favor. For me.”

I rolled my eyes. Help her? As if.

* * * * *

Acknowledgments

Sandy Behr and Amie Stuart, for all the times I emailed, texted or called totally freaked out, you never pushed the ignore button; y’all rock!

John Gwilliam for your awesome pop culture knowledge.

Dwayne McDonald, finally something just for you.

Pat Mills, thanks for answering my theater questions—I really did learn in your class, I just forgot.

For the moms: Brenda Wood, Betty Brett and Jody Wood, y’all are the best supporters a gal can ask for. And the dads: Don Wood and Richard Brett, you’re cool, too.

Maryanne Smith, Happy 90th Birthday!

Deb Nemeth, you’re an awesome editor and you get me, you really get me.

Coming Soon from Emery Harper
and Carina Press

In the Bag
, Celeste Eagan Book Two

About the Author

Born in Alaska, relocated, reared and still residing in North Texas, Emery started writing at a very young age—pretty much before she knew what writing was. She’s always had stories running around in her brain—doesn’t everyone? She penned several short stories, poems and one attempt at a novel when she was still a teen, but it wasn’t until she was pregnant with #4 boy-child that she seriously developed her manuscript chops.

A little murder, mayhem and maybe a twist and turn keep her plenty occupied in her make-believe worlds, though she is often grounded quickly from any one of the four boy-children who live in her casa along with the man-child who’s been her personal hero for over twenty years.

You can get in touch with Emery at
emeryharper.net
,
www.Facebook.com/authoremeryharper
or
Twitter.com/emery_harper16
.

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