‘I guess so.’
* * *
It wasn’t that long ago that Dylan had been so formal and stuffy that even his jeans were ironed and his T-shirts were pristine and white. He’d unbent an awful lot if he wasn’t that fussed about mashed carrot on one of his work shirts, Emmy thought, especially as she knew carrot could stain.
She fussed around downstairs while Dylan sorted out Tyler’s bath and bedtime, and changed his shirt. And then the doorbell went, and her stomach went into knots. This deal could mean as much for Dylan’s business as the magazine thing meant for hers so she really couldn’t afford to mess things up tonight. If the veg wasn’t cooked enough or, worse, cooked to a mush...
Breathe, she told herself. Everything’s going to be just fine. You’ve used the timer and ticked everything off the list. It’s not going to let you down and you’re not going to let Dylan down.
Dylan answered the door; she stayed in the kitchen for just a little longer, nerving herself, then came out to meet their guests.
‘Emmy, this is Ted and Elaine Burroughs—Ted and Elaine, this is Emmy Jacobs,’ Dylan introduced them.
‘Delighted to meet you. Thank you for having us,’ Ted said, and shook her hand warmly.
Emmy was horribly aware that she was still wearing her apron. So much for being sophisticated. ‘Um, sorry, I hope you’ll excuse...’ She indicated the apron with an embarrassed grimace.
‘Of course,’ Ted said.
‘So how long have you been together?’ Elaine asked.
Emmy and Dylan exchanged a glance.
Be honest, she willed him. Tell them the truth, or it’ll come back to bite you.
‘We’re not actually a couple, as such,’ Dylan said. ‘We share a house. And we’re also co-guardians of Tyler, our best friends’ son—they were killed in a car crash three months ago. They’d asked us both to look after Tyler if anything happened to them. So here we are.’
‘So you moved out of your own homes and in here together?’ Elaine asked.
‘It was the best thing for Tyler,’ Emmy said. ‘He needed to be somewhere familiar.’
‘Plus my flat in Docklands wasn’t really baby-friendly,’ Dylan added.
‘And mine in Camden was only big enough for me, not for the three of us,’ Emmy explained.
‘That must have been hard for you,’ Ted said, his face full of sympathy.
‘We’ve been thrown in a bit at the deep end,’ Emmy said, ‘but we’re managing. I should tell you now that dinner’s not totally a home-made thing. I’m afraid we cheated and bought the gravy and the ice cream, but I hope you’ll forgive us for that.’
‘My dear, it’s very kind of you to invite us over—especially given your circumstances,’ Elaine said.
‘We support each other,’ Emmy said. ‘Sometimes Dylan has a late meeting and needs me to pick up the slack, and sometimes I have a rush on at work and need him to hold the fort for me.’ She exchanged a glance with him. ‘And he’s better than I am at getting Ty to sleep. He sings better.’
‘That always worked with our two,’ Elaine said with a smile.
‘Would you excuse me?’ Emmy asked. ‘I need to check on the veg. Dylan, can you—’
‘—sort the drinks?’ he finished. ‘Sure. Would you like to come through to the dining room, Elaine and Ted?’
He sorted out the drinks while she did the last-minute things in the kitchen. She was putting the vegetables in serving dishes when she overheard Elaine complimenting the table setting.
‘That’s all down to Emmy,’ Dylan said. ‘She has an artist’s eye. You should see her jewellery—it’s amazing, so delicate and pretty.’
It warmed her to know he was being absolutely serious. Dylan never gushed.
She brought the serving dishes and warmed plates through, and Dylan carved the chicken.
To her relief, the food seemed to go down well. The vegetables were fine—not too hard or too soft—and she’d managed to get the potatoes crispy on the outside and fluffy inside, thanks to her mother’s instructions.
‘Dylan tells us you’re a jeweller,’ Elaine said. ‘Our eldest daughter is about to turn sixteen, and I know she’d like some jewellery for her birthday. Could you make some for her?’
‘Sure,’ Emmy said. ‘Most of the stuff on my website is either in stock or won’t take long to make, or I could design something especially for her.’
‘Why don’t you show Elaine the pieces you made for the magazine?’ Dylan suggested. ‘Or is that embargoed?’
‘Officially it’s embargoed,’ Emmy confirmed, ‘but I guess it’s OK for you to see the photographs I took. Excuse me a second?’ She grabbed her phone from her bag, and showed Elaine the photographs.
‘That really delicate stuff—that’s so Claire. She’d love something like that,’ Elaine said.
‘Do you want it to be a surprise? If not, you could bring Claire over and I can talk to her about what she’d really like, and design it for her there and then.’ Emmy smiled. ‘Actually, why don’t you do that and we can make it a really girly session? It’ll make her feel special to have something designed just for her.’ She put a hand on Dylan’s arm. ‘Sorry, this wasn’t meant to be about my business tonight. I didn’t mean to take over.’
He smiled. ‘You weren’t taking over. I just think what you make is really amazing. She does these jet carvings as well, little animals. She made me a fantastic bear.’
‘Teddy?’ Ted asked with a grin.
Dylan laughed back. ‘Ah, no. It’s a grizzly. She was making a point,’ Dylan said.
‘You’re lucky I didn’t make you a rhino,’ she teased.
‘A rhino?’ Elaine looked mystified.
‘Because she says I have the same level of social skills as a rhino,’ Dylan explained. ‘I guess it goes with being good at maths.’
‘You’re a total geek,’ she said, but her tone was affectionate.
She cleared the table and brought out the fruit salad; she’d bought thin heart-shaped shortbread from the deli and vanilla ice cream to go with it.
‘Pineapple, raspberries, kiwi and pomegranate,’ Elaine said as she looked at the bowl. ‘How lovely. I’d never thought of making a fruit salad like that. You really are good in the kitchen.’
‘Not always,’ Emmy confessed. ‘I tried making monkfish in parma ham a few weeks back, and it was absolutely terrible. That’s why we decided to cook a roast dinner tonight, because it’s much simpler and less likely to go wrong. And I still had to call my mum for the timings and instructions on the roast potatoes.’
‘You did her proud, love,’ Ted said.
Emmy found herself relaxing now that the trickiest part of the meal was over. But then Tyler woke, and they could all hear him crying on the baby listener.
‘I’ll go,’ Emmy said.
‘No, it’s my shift,’ Dylan said.
‘Not anymore,’ she corrected him. ‘I put a sticky note on the board so it’s my shift. You stay with our guests.’ She realised her slip almost immediately, but hoped she hadn’t messed it up. It had felt so natural to call the Burroughses ‘our’ guests rather than ‘your’.
‘I’d