But she's not listening to me. She's walking up to my workbench to look at the Globe & Anchor. She runs her hands lightly across the finish. I've peppered the bronze piece with tiny ball peen dings that dimple the entire surface. I tried to imagine if someone like Lyla had walked in here and touched my art. I know without a doubt I would have yelled at her to keep her hands off. But the way Emily is stroking the cool metal has me mesmerized.
"This is beautiful. Did you make this for someone who is in the Marine Corps?"
I'm taken aback for a minute. How does little Miss Rich Girl know about the Marine Corps' insignia?
"I made it for my brother."
"Lincoln was in the Marine Corps?" She sounds confused, as she should be.
"No, I was."
She turns quickly and looks at me with awe. "Really? When?"
"I went in when I was eighteen. Got out two years ago at twenty-four."
I watch as she leans back against the workbench and crosses her arms. They lay right below her br**sts, which plump up nicely and strain against her blouse. All sorts of lewd thoughts run through my head and I have to keep telling myself to knock it off. Nothing of that nature is going to happen between us.
Besides...Emily is a nice girl and I don’t do nice girls.
"Did you serve in Afghanistan?"
"Yes."
She waits for me to say more but she'll wait a long time. I don't talk about my time there...ever. And I can tell by the look on her face she knows not to push it.
"Well, thank you for serving our country. I wish I was brave enough to do something like that."
I'm floored again. She seems to always say something that enthralls me. She always says the opposite of what I think will come out of her completely kissable lips. And she doesn't do it in a calculated way to achieve a certain result. No, it comes out of her perfectly shaped mouth with natural sincerity.
I shrug my shoulders at her but secretly I'm pleased she appreciates the sacrifice it takes to serve. No one's opinion of my service, except for my father and brother, really mattered to me before.
Pointing at the piece I ask, "How did you know that was the Marine Corps Globe & Anchor?"
"Well, you're not the only former Marine I know. It just so happens I know a grumpy Marine veteran who was in the first Gulf War."
She has my interest piqued and for the first time, in a long time, I am actually having a real conversation with someone that interests me. It's a weird feeling but I press on.
"Oh yeah. Who is that?"
"His name is Sarge. He's like Danny's surrogate father. Danny is my sister-in-law. I assume you know my brother, Ryan?"
"Yeah, I know Ryan. I'll have to talk to her about this guy next time I see her."
"Sarge is a hoot. He actually walked Danny down the aisle when they got married. Sometimes Ryan flies him and Danny's friend, Paula down here to visit. You should make an effort to meet him next time he comes."
I smile at her. For f**k’s sake. A genuine smile and it feels natural. What the hell is happening to me? "I'll do that. It will be nice to talk to another Marine. It's been awhile."
She cocks her head at me. "Don't you keep in touch with the friends who you served with?"
I nod. "Some of them. We're all kind of spread out and moving on with our lives."
"I bet you forged friendships there that will last a lifetime, huh?"
This question makes me stiffen. She is oh, so right about that. When you are in extreme situations, your bonds forge fast and stay strong. But there is a lot of pain and misery that goes along with it. I'm back on guard now and this conversation needs to wind down.
Now.
I stand up from my chair and start walking to the door. "Well, it's late. Go ahead and pack up and I'll see you on Monday."
Emily pushes away from the workbench with an easygoing smile on her face. "Sure thing, boss."
I watch as she pulls her phone out and turns it on, grabbing her purse while it boots up. She takes a quick glance at the screen and grimaces. I'm assuming there is something stalkerish glaring at her. But I'm not going to ask, even though I sort of want to.
She walks to the door and turns to me. "You got big plans this weekend?"
I needed that question. My priorities come back swiftly in line. My walls go up and slam tight into place. I hope she's not trying to ask me to do something with her. Because that would not be good...in any way.
I answer cautiously. "Not really. I'll probably just hang out at Linc's place."
"That's cool."
Well, damn. I expected her to say something more and that makes me curious now. "What about you?"
Her eyes light up. "Yeah, I'm excited. I'm going with my roommate, Fil, to this new nightclub."
"You live with a guy?" The thought of it raises my hackles a bit but I don't have time to ponder the why of it. It seems all I do lately is analyze every little word that comes out of my mouth around Emily.
She gives a laugh. It sounds like gentle, silver bells, which is a nice change. The laughter of other women always seemed to grate on my nerves.
"No. My roommate is a girl."
"Your roommate is a girl and her parents named her Phil?"
"No. Her parents named her Mignon."
"Wait? They named her after a steak?"
"Yup. Fil is short for Filet. It's this whole nickname thing." She's grinning and I can tell she is enjoying the hell out of this discussion.