But she'd gone after Tyce. She'd lied about playing tennis, pushed for the meeting, worked him at the gala. He was her mess. Her responsibility. And if she gave up on him now, she was admitting her instincts couldn't be trusted. That she didn't know herself as well as she thought.
Emmy
Just busy.
Tyce
Well, clear your calendar. Commonwealth Club charity auction next Friday night.
Emmy
I'm supposed to be matching you with dates. Why don't I find someone from the database for your plus one?
Tyce
I don't want some picket-fence Barbie. I want you.
Emmy's heart gave a sour thud. Why Tyce still had the power to make it do anything at all was beyond her, and yet, here she was. She closed her eyes. Most days she could convince herself the men in her past had left no lasting stamp on her. And some days she had strangers DMing her that she deserved better and still felt unsure.
Emmy
It's against company policy to date clients.
Tyce
then it's not a date
Emmy hesitated.
Emmy
I'll have to check my schedule.
Tyce
Check faster. Deep pockets everywhere. I'll introduce you around, help you rebuild after your little... moment.
Emmy's jaw tightened.Little moment.Like she'd spilled wine on someone's shoes instead of becoming a viral cautionary tale.
Emmy
Generous of you.
Tyce
I'm a generous guy. Ask anyone.
She should say no. She should tell him she had other plans, other clients, a life that didn't orbit his gravitational field.
But Cecelia's voice echoed in her head:Two weeks. Tyce commits to a real search, or he's Sabine's.
Emmy
What time?
Tyce
7. Cocktail attire.
