Emma’s phone pinged a full half hour before her alarm.
Still half-asleep, she fumbled for it on the nightstand. When her fingers found it, she propped herself on an elbow and squinted at the screen, bleary-eyed and maybe a little hungover, though she wasn’t sure yet.
Morning. Thought I might tempt you with coffee and questionable decisions. Want to meet up before the madness starts?
She stared at the message. Her brain hazily registered the fact that there was a text from Darren Cole on her phone. Again. The memories of the previous day floated back slowly, pulling her lips into a small, sleepy smile.
It was probably wiser to say no. Or at least wait five minutes before replying, like a person with dignity.
She didn’t.
Questionable decisions? What makes you think I’m even awake at this hour?
The bouncing dots made her sluggish pulse quicken.
The fact that you’re texting back seems like a clue somehow. Did I mention there’d be coffee? And maybe a surprise...
Emma closed her eyes, pressing the cool screen against her forehead. Oh, who was she kidding anyway? She couldn’t wait to see him again.
Alright, you had me at coffee. When and where?
She let herself fall back against the pillows, waiting for his reply. Her hand accidentally smacked Leah, who muttered something sounding very much like a death threat.
Her breath slowed as she let it all sink in.
She had no idea what this was. Only that he wanted to see her again.
And that felt like more than enough.
gig
Leah followed her down to the lobby, deep into a long rant about what sleep deprivation did to collagen production and how it accelerated premature skin aging. Emma listened only with half an ear. Despite her complaints, Leah looked fully ready to put egos in place and conquer the world—though that was pretty much her default setting.
“Chased by celebrities before breakfast,” Leah grumbled as they entered the elevator. “Going to make this a recurring habit, are you?”
Emma carefully tried to keep her face neutral. “It’s just coffee. And a pre-opening walk through the Con, I think. He was a bit vague.”
She glanced at herself in the mirror. Her hair curled at the ends, still damp from the shower despite her efforts with the hair dryer. The peach blouse she’d chosen, one she usually reserved for board meetings, highlighted the light flush on her cheeks.
“Mhm,” Leah said, catching her eye in the mirror.
Emma gave her a stern look. “It’s not like I’m expecting it to turn into something. It’s Darren freaking Cole, Leah. His fans write poems about his bone structure. We don’t really play in the same league. Or sport. Or planet.”
The elevator gave a friendly ding as it reached the ground floor.
They crossed the lobby, still hushed with morning stillness. The only people around were a maid with a vacuum cleaner and a half-asleep couple on a couch, dressed as Harley Quinn and the Joker.
“Yeah, you keep saying stuff like that,” Leah said, softening her tone. “But I see the way your face lights up when he’s around.”
She nodded toward the glass doors of the hotel entrance. As if eager to prove Leah’s point, Emma’s heart leapt when she saw Darren on the other side, leaning against a black SUV. He was wearing sunglasses and a black linen button-down, sleeves rolled up so casually it would have made a Vogue stylist weep with joy. In one hand, he was holding a paper tray with two coffees.
Leah took Emma’s wrist, halting her.
“Look, Emma, I hate that you’re selling yourself short. You’re brilliant, and funny, and talented, and Darren Cole would be lucky to have you. It’s just...he’s getting a bit intense. I haven’t seen you like this before, and you barely know him. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
Emma blinked. The words landed like the tip of an arrow, striking her right at the weakest spot. She forced a laugh, trying to brush it off.
“Jesus, Leah. It’s too early in the morning for that kind of real talk.”
