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“Well, this is your last day. I was thinking a bill, perhaps?”

Sarah brightened and smacked herself in the forehead. “Of course. Follow me.” As they walked from Emory’s second floor bedroom down to the kitchen, Sarah was a little nervous to present Emory with the amount she owed. It had been a large job that entailed lots of coordination and work from external companies. She’d made sure to itemize each and every dollar so Emory could see clearly where each charge came from.

As Emory opened the envelope, her eyebrows rose noticeably, but she didn’t say anything, making Sarah all the more uncomfortable.

“Um, Sarah. This is a little crazy.”

Sarah leaned in and looked over Emory’s shoulder at the itemization. “Is there a problem or a mistake on the detail list?”

“No, it’s not that.” Emory turned to face her. “This number is way too low. I should be paying you at least three times what this statement says.”

Sarah shook her head. “No, this is a fair assessment of our expenses and labor costs.”

“Well, it’s ridiculous and I’m not paying it. I’ll pay what it was worth, and that’s the end of it.” Emory pulled out her checkbook and filled in three times the amount of the invoice, tore the check out, and handed it to her.

“I can’t accept this.”

Emory adopted what Sarah was coming to identify as her executive voice. “Yes, you will accept it and hopefully take another look at your prices. You’re undercharging. By a lot, Sarah. When was the last time your company raised their rates?”

Sarah thought for a moment. “About two years ago. I’ve been trying to convince my mother that we’re capable of charging more, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She likes coming in on the lower end. She says we get more business and referrals that way.”

“She’s right about the more business part, but you’ll take on twice the work for half the pay. Please tell me you’ll talk to her again.”

Sarah smiled at Emory, grateful she saw the value in the work she’d done. “I’ll do my best, but I’m afraid you haven’t met Yolanda Matamoros. All the same, thank you for this. It’s very generous.” She nodded at the check in her hand and put it in her back pocket.

“It was worth every penny. I’m serious. I’m in awe of how quickly and efficiently you got this done.”

Sarah blushed, grabbing her bag and walking to the door. “Now I’m the one who’s embarrassed.”

“Don’t be.” Emory followed slowly behind her.

As they reached the entryway, she looked at Emory and realized this was good-bye. Without the house as their commonality, they would have no reason to see each other.

“I’m glad I met you, Sarah. You were a friend to me when I needed it.”

Sarah nodded. “Well, if we’re being sentimental, you did something for me too, you know. It’s been a while since someone’s given me that extra push to get out there and make something happen for myself.”

Emory beamed upon hearing the information, the kind of smile that Sarah couldn’t take her eyes from. “Speaking of which, I can’t believe I almost forgot.” Emory moved quickly to her attaché case and handed Sarah her business card. “I was serious about that press release. Let me know when you’re ready.”

“I’d be a fool not to take you up on it.”

They shared a smile. “I hope everything works out for you, Sarah.”

“For you too.”

Emory exhaled, wordlessly opening her arms for an embrace that Sarah moved easily into. And there it was, that powerful hum of electricity. They stood there a moment, and Sarah enjoyed the feeling of having Emory’s arms around her. She was suddenly very aware of Emory’s body up against hers, and her heart rate quickened. And as she stepped back, she felt the loss. Unsure what motivated her but knowing there was no other choice, Sarah acted on impulse. She slowly placed her hands on either side of Emory’s face and brushed her lips with her own ever so briefly with a feather light kiss. She pulled back slowly, just enough so she could see Emory’s eyes, gauge her reaction, her thoughts.

Emory stared back at her blankly and the moment shifted. She took Sarah’s shoulders, pulled her in, and seized her mouth in sizzling answer. Suddenly, what Sarah’d imagined alone in her room several nights ago plunged into her reality. The taste of Emory, the feel of her as she pressed Sarah against the door in an ever-deepening kiss was shockingly potent and very real. In the quiet of the late afternoon, Sarah felt heat rising in her blood. She didn’t push Emory away, she didn’t stop what was already in motion, and it was all she could do to hold on. Then thinking stopped being an option. She moved her hands from Emory’s face, into her hair and gripped softly.

The action seemed to jolt Emory. She straightened and took a step back. Her shocked eyes never left Sarah’s. They stared at each other, Sarah doing her best to catch her breath.

Silence reigned.

“I shouldn’t have…I think I thought when you…wow. I’m so sorry.” Emory fumbled for her keys in her pocket and reached for the door behind Sarah. “I’m gonna go. Really sorry,” she said one last time.

Sarah stood in the entryway and listened to the beep of Emory’s car unlock and the subsequent start of her engine.

What had just happened? She slid to the floor and moved her hand to her forehead in mystification. She’d just been kissed into next week, that’s what had just happened. Who knew a kiss could feel like that? She was still lost in it. She nodded slowly as the puzzle pieces drifted together in her mind. This was what being swept away meant. She’d heard the term before, but never quite thought it was a real thing. She ran a shaky hand through her hair and to her still-swollen lips.

Swept away.

*

Sarah spent the next week doing what she loved most in the world, spending each moment of her day with Grace. It meant taking the week off from work, but between summer camp and the Banning Street house, they hadn’t spent enough one-on-one time with each other, and Sarah had every intention of correcting that before school began in just three short weeks.

They spent their mornings at the park, people watching and insect observing, with an occasional game of catch, stopping every so often to make sure Grace wasn’t overexerted. In the afternoons, they attended movies, played cards, and spent lots of time at Grace’s favorite place in town, The Children’s Museum. It felt wonderful to spend so much time with her. She even found out that Grace had moved on to yet another new passion.

“So now you want to be an artist?” Sarah took a lick of her pistachio ice cream cone. They sat at an outdoor table at Baskin Robbins, enjoying the even-keeled seventy-five degree temperatures.

“Mhmm.” Grace caught the chocolate running off her chin just in time. Sarah handed her another pile of napkins.

“What happened to being a mermaid?”

Grace giggled and rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t exactly serious about that, you know. I hear they’re not paid very well.”

Sarah shook her head but enjoyed Grace’s dry wit, yet another in a long list of traits she’d picked up from her grandfather.

“I’ve just figured out that I love art. I don’t know if I’m good enough, but I’m still learning.”

“Well, I happen to think you’re really good. I love how colorful your drawings are.”

“Emory helped. She says that color choice is a big part of the mood you want to elist.”

“Elicit?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Elicit. We should go see Emory again.”

Sarah stared at the table. “I’m not sure about that, mija. I finished up that job, remember?”

“You could always call her.”