And then…sniffles.
Her breath hitched.
The young man’s body was trembling. He wiped his face profusely with the back of his hand. Almost like what was happening angered him.
Emily hesitated, wondering if there was a chance the earth could yawn, swallow her up and transport her somewhere else.Anywhereelse. But that was highly unlikely and the air inside the closet had become suffocating, so she pushed the door open.
Nicolas jumped, his head whipping around. His eyes were red, but he still blinked fast, trying to erase the evidence of him crying.
Emily stepped forward, removing a small, embroidered handkerchief from her clutch. It was white with tiny gold stars stitched along the edges, one of her mother’s many accessories.
“Hey,” she said gently. “Are you okay?”
He stared at her.
“I didn’t mean to spy.” She felt the need for clarification under his heavy gaze. “I was watching a movie. I didn’t know anyone would barge in. I thought it was my mother looking for me, so I...”
“You hid in the closet.” His hoarse voice finished. He immediately cleared his throat at the state of it.
“She’s not exactly the biggest fan of what I was watching.” A sheepish smile came as her arm held out the handkerchief. “And I don’t understand everything your father said, but I know you shouldn’t listen to him. My grandmother always says nobody with that tone of voice deserves an audience.”
Nicolas was stunned. Then he recovered quickly, his lips pressing tight before he spoke again. “You said you don’t understand everything, so I take it you understoodsomething.” His eyes assessed her. “What was it?”
“Um...” she hesitated, but his stare was so insisting, pulling the words right out of her. “I think he said you were weak.”
“Youthink?” he repeated with a grumble, almost making her laugh, not at the situation, but at how unexpectedly comical he was while doing that.
“I’m sure you’re no?—”
“You don’t know me.”
Emily’s humor died instantly. “Right.”
She swallowed harshly, battling the urge to fuss with her hair or dress, a habit her mother scolded as poor taste.
Nicolas blew out a breath, his index finger twitching by his side. “Do you want to know what else he said?” He continued before she had the chance to respond. “He asked if I’ll continue to humiliate him. When he was my age, he’d accomplished far more than I could imagine.”
She frowned deeply. “I know it’s cliché, but comparison is the thief of joy, Nicolas. I’m sure you’ll achieve great things. Things that’ll make him regret saying what he did.”
His brows furrowed deeply, then he paused. “I’m just now realizing you haven’t told me your name.”
She lifted her chin, her smile making its return. “I’m Emily. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Nicolas’s lips twitched ever so slightly she thought she’d imagined it. “You say it like you’re royalty or something.”
Emily’s hands moved animatedly when she noticed his tone was lighter than before. “My family likes to pretend we are. Hosting a gala of this scale every year and all.”
“I guess that makes you the youngest heiress, Emily Pinault.”
“In the flesh.” She gave a small curtsy, more clumsy than graceful. It caused her to lose balance for a split second. He let out something that sounded like a snort. “Pretend…pretend you didn’t see that.”
Nicolas’s eyes cleared as he looked at her,reallylooked at her. His gaze dusted over the expanse of her face, flushed cheeks, scrunched nose and all. “I’ll try,” he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching again as though fighting a smile. “Thank you, Emily.”
His hand finally reached out and accepted the handkerchief. Their fingers brushed with the motion. Tingles spread from their point of contact all the way up her arm, vibrating beneath her skin. Her breath caught, having never felt anything like this before.
His fingers curled tightly around the handkerchief as they broke apart.
Emily twiddled her thumbs, suddenly feeling abashed. “You’re welcome.”
