Emma
“Who was that guy?”
That was Amanda’s first question when I walked through the door after going home to change. Instead of answering, I took my coat off and put my purse on the counter.
Glancing around, I asked, “Is Theresa already gone?”
Amanda’s head was deep inside the oven as she answered. “Yeah. Did you call Carter about the restaurant?”
I hadn’t, but I’d called the restaurant myself. Spying a bottle of wine and two empty glasses beside it, I started to pour. “They’ll be taken care of.”
“Oh, good.” She emerged and gave me a lopsided grin, brushing her arm over her forehead as some hair covered her eyes. “Hey, you look nice.”
I glanced down. I’d swapped the sweatshirt and jeans I wore at the gun range for a sweater and pair of pants. It wasn’t much, but they were nicer qual
