her apartment — he just dumped her suitcase into the bedroom, dug out the bourbon from the kitchen cabinet along with two glasses and some ice, and brought it into the living room where Emmy was sitting on the couch, staring into space.
"Drink this," he said, sliding a half-full glass across the low table to her, and Emmy picked it up and gulped it down without missing a beat. The smoky liquid burned down her throat, leaving her warm and slightly buzzed.
She crunched on an ice cube, and held her glass out.
"More."
Jake complied, no quibbling, and refilled his along the way.
"Okay," Emmy said eventually, when they'd traded a few glances in silence, sipping their respective drinks. "Stop it with the concerned glances. What do you want to know?"
"Only if you want to talk about it," Jake said. "No pressure."
"No pressure, my ass. I can tell you're desperate to ask whatever, so just do it."
"Okay, so who the fuck is that guy? He's the asshole from last time, right?"
Emmy nodded, her face scrunched up in a grimace.
"Oh, Jake, where do I start?"
"How about the beginning?"
"We met at Open Book. A couple months ago."
"You said something about the bookstore being under threat last time..."
"Yeah, well — you just met the threat," she said tartly. "He's my landlord. Bought the place, wants to turn it into his home, and he's served us with a notice of eviction."
There was no reply from Jake, and when Emmy looked up at him he was frowning. She could almost see the speech bubble above his head, and it read something like What were you thinking? Hard to argue with that.
"What's his name?"
"Oswell. Eric Oswell. He's a property developer, something of a tycoon. Quite well-known in Manhattan society circles. Patron of the Met Opera, that kind of thing."
He snorted.
"Now you mention it, he did look the part."
"He just flew me to Venice for Thanksgiving so... But that's not why..."
"Hey, I didn't say anything," Jake interjected. "I know you. Although I have to say I am surprised."
"Believe me, you're not as surprised as I have been for the past few weeks. I seem to have lost all my powers of judgment. And I'm paying the price now."
Emmy sagged back into her chair, suddenly overwhelmed by the enormity of what had just happened outside her door. She was still in shock, but she could feel the sadness and anger bubbling up to the surface.
"I don't even know what happened out there," she added, "except that it's a complete disaster. He seems to think I’m plotting to get something — money? He kept talking about blackmail but I don’t know what the heck he’s referring to.”
Tears were pricking at her eyelids, but she blinked them away, conscious of Jake's gaze. She wasn't going to fold over and sob like a teenage girl, wouldn't give Eric the satisfaction — even if he was long gone.
"You know what? Forget unpacking — I'll deal with it later. Right now I'm exhausted and I need some sleep. I think I'm just going to go to bed."
"Do you want me to hang around?" Jake asked, and Emmy couldn't exactly tell whether he means it just as a supportive friend, or whether there was more to the offer.
"Are you getting a kick out of this, J?" she asked, weary — all of a sudden she wondered whether his untimely intervention earlier was actually unplanned, or whether he knew exactly what to say to set Eric off.
Jake's mumbling denial didn't allay her concerns.
”Seriously, Jake — what are you playing at?"
"Nothing," he said, looking hurt. "Do me a favor and drop the accusatory tone, okay? I didn't like the way he was talking to you. He riled me, and I wanted to rile him back, and maybe that was a dick move on my part — sorry. But I wasn't trying to mess you up. As for my offer, well, I did think we could pick up where we left off when I came over — but I can see you're upset so no, I wasn't angling for a comfort fuck."
She pulled him into a fierce hug.
"I'm sorry for being a bitch. I think Eric did a number on me."
Jake slept over that night, but, although they shared a bed, it was entirely above board: full pajamas for her, T-shirt over boxers for him. He held her chastely while she cried herself quietly to sleep on her favorite pillow. He was still groggy when Emmy went to work in