He stared at his mother, then at Emma, then back at his mother again.
Then, in an appalled voice, he pointed at Emma and blurted out,
“Dateher?She’s like five years older than me!”
Emma calmly answered in a soft voice,
“Three years.”
Her voice carried a quiet grace, the calm confidence of someone who had clearly grown up sheltered and privileged.
Harold became even more flustered.
He couldn’t even look directly at her.
There was something strangely charming about Emma that he couldn’t escape. Every time he looked at her, his heart skipped a beat so violently that it made him want to hide under a table.
His heart began pounding wildly in his chest.
When she met his gaze while answering him, the feeling grew even stronger. The feeling was so overwhelming that Harold could barely keep his heart under control. His chest rose and fell quickly, as if even breathing had suddenly become difficult.
Flustered and unable to meet Emma’s eyes, he quickly glanced at Hannah, then at Emma again.
And in the very next second—
He suddenly leapt over the chair, rushed past the table, and ran out of the restaurant at full speed.
So fast that Hannah could only stare after him in shock.
Her face flushed red as she quickly turned to Emma.
“I’m so sorry about that,” she said hurriedly, clearly mortified. “I don’t know what happened to him.”
She looked like someone who had just died and come back to life—still stunned and unsure what to do next. For a moment she hesitated, as if wondering whether she should try to fix the situation or simply disappear from shame.
Emma, however, simply smiled at her with a calm and encouraging expression.
“It’s alright, Mrs. Graves,” Emma said in a gentle, composed voice. “How about you go home and ask Harold if he would like to meet me next week? At this restaurant, the same table.”
She paused before continuing politely.
“If he agrees, then we can meet and see how it goes.”
“Yes! That would be wonderful,” Hannah said immediately, nodding her head quickly and eagerly.
“I’m going to go home and talk to him. I’m sure he just wasn’t prepared for something like this happening so suddenly. I’m sure it will be fine.”
She nodded again, almost trying to convince herself.
“I’ll go talk to him.”
“It’s alright,” Emma replied with a polite smile.
After that, Emma turned and walked out of the restaurant.
Emma stepped outside and walked toward her car. Her steps were measured and calm, the soft sound of her heels echoing faintly across the parking lot.
The car waiting for her was the Mercedes she usually drove.
