to strangle him. ‘Could you perhaps phone her and see when’s a good time for her to join us?’
‘No,’ he said tightly.
Superpolite mode off. ‘Either she really, really trusts you,’ Emmy said, ‘or you’re even more of a control freak than I thought.’
‘It isn’t an issue,’ Dylan said, ‘because we’re separated.’ He glared at her. ‘Happy, now?’
What? Since when had Dylan split up with his wife? And why? But Emmy damped the questions down. It wasn’t any of her business. Whereas Tyler’s welfare—that was most definitely her business.
‘I guess it makes this issue a bit less complicated,’ she said. Especially given what the social worker had suggested to her yesterday—something Emmy had baulked at, but which might turn out to be a sensible solution now.
She took a sip of coffee. ‘Maybe,’ she said slowly, ‘Pete and Ally thought that between us we could give Tyler what he needs.’
He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘How do you mean?’
‘We have different strengths.’ And different weaknesses, but she wasn’t going to point that out. They were going to need to work together on this, and now wasn’t the time for a fight. ‘We can bring different things to his life.’
He folded his arms. ‘So I do the serious stuff and you do all the fun and glitter?’
Emmy had been prepared to compromise, but this was too much. And this was exactly why she’d disliked Dylan from practically the moment they’d met. Because he was judgemental, arrogant, and had the social skills of a rhino. Either he genuinely didn’t realise what he’d just said or he really didn’t care—and she wasn’t sure which. She lifted her chin. ‘You mean, because I work with pretty, shiny things, they distract my poor little female brain from being able to focus on anything real?’ she asked, her voice like cut glass.
His wince told her that he hadn’t actually meant to insult her. ‘Put that way, it sounds bad.’
‘It is bad, Dylan. Look, you know I have my own business. If I was an airhead, unable to do a basic set of yearly accounts and work out my profit margins, then I’d be starving and in debt up to my eyeballs. Just to clarify the situation for you, that’s not the case. My bank account’s in the black and my business is doing just fine, thank you. Or will you be requiring a letter from my bank manager to prove that?’
He held her gaze. ‘OK. I apologise. I shouldn’t have said that.’
‘Good. Apology accepted.’ And maybe she should cut him some slack. He’d said that Pete was as close to him as a brother, so right now he was obviously hurting as much as she was. Especially as he was having to deal with a relationship break-up as well. And Dylan Harper was the most formal, uptight man Emmy had ever met, which meant he probably wasn’t so good at emotional stuff. No doubt lashing out and making snippy remarks was his way of dealing with things. Letting it go—this time—didn’t mean that she was going to let him walk all over her in the future.
‘OK, so we don’t get on; but this isn’t actually about us. It’s about a little boy who has nobody, and giving him a stable home where he can grow up knowing he’s loved and valued.’ And this wasn’t the first time she and Dylan had had to put their differences aside. They’d managed it for Pete and Ally’s wedding. When, come to think of it, Dylan’s wife had been away on business and hadn’t been able to attend, despite the fact that she worked with the groom and was married to the best man.
Emmy and Dylan had put their differences aside again two months ago, in the same ancient little church where Ally and Pete had got married, when they’d stood by the font and made their promises as godparents. Dylan’s wife had been absent then, too. So maybe the marriage had been in trouble for a while, and Pete knew what was going on in Dylan’s life. Which would make a bit more sense of the decision to ask both Dylan and Emmy to be Tyler’s guardian.
She looked Dylan straight in the eye. ‘I meant every word I said in church on my godson’s christening day. I intend to be there for him.’
* * *
Was Emmy implying that he wasn’t? Dylan felt himself bristling. ‘I meant every word I said, too.’
‘Right.’
But he couldn’t discern an edge in her voice—at least, not like the one that had been there when he’d as good as called her an airhead. And that mollified him slightly. Maybe they could work together on this. Maybe she’d put the baby first instead of being the overemotional, needy mess she’d been when he’d first met her. Emmy wasn’t serious and focused, like Nadine. She was unstructured and flaky. Something Dylan refused to put up with; he’d already had to deal with enough of that kind of behaviour in his life. No more.
‘Look, Ally and Pete wanted us to take care of their baby, if anything happened to them.’ She swallowed hard. ‘And the worst has happened.’
Dylan could see the sheen of tears in her grey eyes, and her lower lip actually started to wobble. Oh, no. Please don’t let her cry. He wasn’t good with tears. And he’d seen enough of them in those last few weeks with Nadine to last him a lifetime. If Emmy started crying, he’d have to walk out of the café. Because right now he couldn’t cope with any more emotional pressure. As it was, he felt as if the world had slipped and he were slowly sliding backwards, unable to stop himself and with nothing to hang on to.
She dragged in a breath. ‘We’re going to have to work together on this and put our personal feelings aside.’
‘Fair point.’ They didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter. And at least she was managing to hold the tears back. That was something. ‘We’ll work together.’ Dylan was still slightly surprised at how businesslike she was being. This wasn’t Emmy-like behaviour. She’d been late the first three times they’d met, and given the most feeble of excuses. And he’d lost count of the times he’d been over at Ally and Pete’s and Ally had had to rush off to pick up the pieces when yet another of Emmy’s disastrous relationships had ended. It was way, way too close to the way his mother behaved, and Dylan had no patience for that kind of selfishness.
And his comment about the glitter hadn’t been totally unfounded. He was pretty sure she’d choose to do the fun things with Tyler and leave him to do all the serious stuff. Emmy was all about fun. Which wasn’t enough: sometimes you had to put the fun aside and do what needed to be done rather than what you wanted to do. ‘So you’ve been looking after Tyler?’
‘Since they left.’ She shrugged. ‘Babysitting.’
Except now it wasn’t babysitting anymore. There wasn’t anyone to hand Tyler back to.
She blew out a breath. ‘The social worker came to see me last night. She said that Tyler needs familiarity and a routine. So I guess the first thing we need to do is to set up a routine, something as near as possible to what he’s used to.’
Considering the chaos that usually surrounded Emmy Jacobs, Dylan couldn’t imagine her setting up any kind of routine. But he bit his tongue. He’d already annoyed her today. Right now he needed to be conciliatory. For his godson’s sake. ‘Right.’
‘And, as the solicitor said, we’re sharing custody.’
‘Meaning that one week you have him, the next week I do?’
