***You Are Special***

Emma's studio smelled like turpentine and coffee.

Robert stood at the door. Knocked softly. Heard movement inside.

"Come in," Emma called.

She stood at her easel. Paint splattered jeans. Old sweater. Hair pulled back messy. Exhausted but still her.

"You look like you haven't slept," she said.

"I haven't. Not really."

Emma set down her brush. "What happened?"

Robert closed the door. "I told Natalie I want a ...