chapter 7
But the day had other plans.
Mid-morning, I was in the executive lounge reviewing a confidential proposal from a new overseas investor when my assistant peeked in.
“Ma’am… Miss Emma is here. She’s in the CEO’s office.”
I paused. “She didn’t make an appointment?”
“No, ma’am. She just… showed up.”
Of course she did.
I gathered the proposal, tucked it neatly into my folder, and stood.
Michael’s office was at the far end of the executive floor. Wide glass walls, a panoramic view of South City’s skyline, and a door that was usually kept closed. Except now, it was ajar.
I knocked lightly, then stepped in.
Emma was perched on the edge of the leather couch, legs crossed, wearing a pencil skirt two inches too short for decency in any office setting. Michael stood beside his desk, visibly uncomfortable.
His thoughts hit me instantly.
Why is she dressed like that? Why now? Please don’t let Lily misunderstand. Don’t let this blow up. Not now. Not when we’re finally… close.
Emma turned, a slow smile spreading across her lips.
“Lily,” she said, standing and walking toward me like we were old friends. “So nice to see you.”
I returned the smile with something cooler. “Emma.”
Michael looked like he wanted to crawl under the desk.
“I just needed Michael’s help with a small property issue,” she said sweetly. “He’s so reliable, isn’t he?”
I turned to Michael. “Is this the same property from last year? The one under joint ownership with your name as collateral?”
He blinked, then nodded slowly.
“And the deed was never updated after the last transaction?” I asked, voice calm but firm.
“No,” he said quietly.
“Then this isn’t just a small issue,” I said, turning back to Emma. “It’s a liability. One that could impact Johnson Group’s financials if handled carelessly.”
Emma’s smile faltered. Just slightly.
“But I’m sure you already knew that,” I added. “You’re a smart woman.”
Michael’s thoughts hummed.
She’s defending me. No, she’s protecting the company. Protecting us. She’s incredible. How did I not see it before?
Emma opened her mouth, but I cut her off.
“Please coordinate with legal if you need anything else. Michael’s schedule is full.”
The message was clear.
Get out.
Emma left in a quiet storm of designer perfume and barely concealed frustration.
Michael slumped into his chair.
“I didn’t invite her,” he said quickly.
“I know,” I replied, sitting across from him. “But you need to untangle yourself from her. She’s not just bad for you. She’s dangerous for the company.”
He looked at me, lips parted.
She’s serious. She’s brilliant. God, she’s everything. How did I spend three years ignoring her?
I sighed. “You’re thinking too loud.”
He flushed. “Sorry.”
That night, I didn’t go back to my room.
We watched a movie in the den. Not a romantic one. Just a bland thriller with too many plot holes and a forgettable soundtrack. But Michael sat next to me, not too close, not too far.
During one of the slower scenes, I glanced at him.
His eyes were on the screen, but his thoughts were elsewhere.
Should I hold her hand? No. Too fast. But she’s sitting here. With me. We’ve never done this before. I could pause the movie. Ask if she wants tea. That’s safe. Not weird. Right?
“Michael,” I said.
He jumped. “Yes?”
“I can hear you, you know.”
He looked panicked. “All of it?”
I nodded.
“Even the part about the tea?”
I smiled. “Especially that part.”
He stood instantly. “I’ll make you some.”
He returned with two mismatched mugs and an apologetic smile. We drank in silence. Comfortable, warm silence.
And that night, we slept in the same bed.