Free One Kiss More by Mandy Baxter Page A

barista called out from the counter.
    She’d drop dead the day one of them got her name right. Still, Ella was better than Nanna, which someone had scribbled on her cup last week. Seriously? Nanna ? Emma grabbed her coffee and headed for the most isolated table she could find. Most days, this was her go-to place to sit and relax and catch up on work. Aside from her more public notoriety, Emma had built a professional reputation as a general computer-geek-gun-for-hire. One of the top programmers in her field, she was known for constructing practically unhackable security systems. She contracted for multinational corporations as well as mom-and-pop outfits. She’d even consulted for Rosenbaum’s, a large supermarket chain that had made headlines last year after a security breach had occurred, giving hackers thousands of their customers’ credit card numbers. She’d jumped in and restructured their security protocols and it had only helped to elevate her growing business.
    Being an independent contractor gave her the freedom of a mobile office as well as setting her own hours. Sure, the gossip sites claimed she was a trust fund brat who lived off Daddy’s money, but that wasn’t entirely true. Her dad had set aside a trust to help her out, but it wasn’t enough to set her up for life or anything. She didn’t have Buffett or Hilton money. Hell, in the course of her obsessive research into McCabe six years ago, she’d discovered that her family didn’t have McCabe money. No, Emma had never been über rich. Her family had simply been better off than most. The trust had put her through college and afforded her the benefit of graduating without the burden of thousands of dollars of student loan debt. And now, that trust helped to pay for her condo in a building that made her feel safe. Until recently, that is. That’s all her dad had ever wanted: that she be taken care of. Protected. And now, it was Emma’s turn to take care of him.
    She set up her laptop and angled the screen away from anyone who might’ve been able to glance at the content. It took only a moment to connect to the coffee shop’s Wi-Fi, and she placed her cell on the table beside her, waiting for a call she didn’t really want to answer.
    Minutes ticked by. Emma sipped her macchiato, reviewed a couple of client projects, and answered an e-mail. She checked Twitter and her Facebook page—great, someone had tagged her in a couple of candids with Jeremy last night—and, disgusted, she closed the windows, vowing to stay off social media for the rest of her life. She checked the time on her phone, and her stomach did a nervous flip. She’d followed her dad’s instructions to a tee and set up her laptop in a public place, hopefully far from prying eyes. If everything went according to plan, this would all be over soon. But Cesar’s call was now officially ten minutes late. What in the hell did that mean?
    “Meeting someone this morning?”
    Emma jumped about a foot in her seat at the sound of McCabe’s voice. Damn him and the pushy bastards tailing her! He was going to ruin everything. She pushed her glasses up on her forehead and leveled an icy stare at him. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m working. I usually come here to avoid nosy jerks who have nothing better to do than follow me around. Looks like I’m going to have to find a new hangout.”
    His sardonic smile jacked her pulse rate up and turned her insides to mush. How he could be equal parts sexy and annoying was a mystery. “We need to talk.”
    About what? she wondered. The fact that she was still under investigation in connection with her father’s escape or the fact that he’d kissed her dizzy last night. Would it be in poor taste to bring up the latter first? Probably. “I have nothing to say to you, McCabe.”
    His eyes hardened almost imperceptibly and Emma could only guess as to what had triggered his animosity. He apparently expected her to play nice after their