I push the elevator button as I wait for her reply.
“Sebastian.”Her voice is soft.
I turn, our eyes lock, and the vulnerability in those baby blues hits me right in the chest, tightening as I resist the need to close the distance.
Suddenly, I’m seeing the giggling mess of a girl I met on the plane.The one I purposely got drunk so I could kiss her.The one who sunk to her knees without hesitation and then curled up in her seat, watching me until her eyes closed.
Then it was my turn.
I studied her long lashes, her worn leggings, and fancy manicure with the edge of one damaged.The one I’d watched her scratch at for hours.Her pink hair tie snug around her wrist, leaving a dent.I pulled it off and twisted it for hours as she slept.I don’t know why I did that.
Ignoring the elevator when it opens, I walk over to her desk.
“Does she know?”Emily asks.
She still thinks I’m engaged.
“No,” I reply, not lying.Technically.“I will pick you up at seven.”
The elevator pings open, and I give her a warm smile.
“Hello, Mr.Remington.”Terri skips past me.“Eek, I’m so excited about your first Friday night out in Manhattan.”
As I step into the elevator, I watch Emily’s face light up.She spins in her chair and darts up, grabbing her handbag.
I grind my teeth as the doors close, knowing she’s hitting the clubs tonight.I know exactly what’s going to happen.A million men in this city are going to want to take her home.
Fuck.
And Emily thinks I’m engaged.
CHAPTER TWELVE
EMILY
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