Emma stilled.
The faint smile on her lips froze for half a second—barely noticeable, but enough.
Her eyes flickered instinctively toward Harold across the restaurant.
Then back to Hannah.
“Graves?” she repeated softly.
Her pulse skipped.
“You’re…” Emma repeated carefully, her tone shifting ever so slightly. “Mrs. Graves?”
“Yes,” Hannah laughed lightly, oblivious to the tension that had just settled into Emma’s posture. “I just brought my son here for a blind date. It’s my friend’s daughter. He didn’t want to come at all.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “I practically had to push him through the doors.”
Emma’s gaze slid toward Harold again.
He was sitting rigidly at the table, jaw tight, clearly uncomfortable.
Hannah continued cheerfully, “I was just about to leave so they can talk privately.”
Emma’s heart thudded. “Harold is your son?”
Hannah beamed with pride. “Yes. He’s my only son. You know him?”
Emma’s heart jumped sharply inside her chest.
For a split second, she lost her composure—but she quickly masked it.
“Yes,” she nodded lightly. “I know him. Sophia is my best friend. So we’re… acquaintances. Friends of friends.”
“I can’t believe you know Harold!” Hannah exclaimed.
She seemed to skip over everything Emma had just said, completely fixated on the one unbelievable fact—that someone like Emma Creed was somehow connected to her son.
Her excitement was so overwhelming it almost made her dizzy.
She stared at Emma as if she had just met her favorite celebrity in real life. The excitement was so overwhelming that she nearly fainted on the spot.
Emma shifted her weight slightly, a brief flicker of nervousness passing through her eyes before she steadied herself. Then she looked at Hannah asked with polite curiosity,
“Mrs. Graves… would it be alright with you if I dated Harold?”
“Date… Harold?”
Hannah’s eyes widened so much it looked as if she had momentarily lost all sense of the present.
Her body swayed.
For a terrifying second, it looked like she might faint right there in the middle of the restaurant.
Emma reacted immediately. She stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Hannah’s shoulders, catching her before she could fall.
Hannah clung to Emma’s arm, her expression completely starstruck, as though she had forgotten how to breathe.
“You… you want to date Harold?” she stammered.
“Yes,” Emma replied simply.
