“So, EJ—”
“Actually, it’s Emma—”
“EJ to her friends, was what I was told.”
Oh great. She couldn’t look at Neil’s crestfallen face. Why was Eric speaking like this? It wasn’t kind. But still, something inside her refused to walk away.
“So, about that champagne …” Eric invited.
Why was he harping on about this? Anyone could see she wasn’t the normal kind of woman he spoke to, precisely because she was so … normal. Would admitting she loved the champagne he’d bought put her in his debt like Jordan had suggested? She bit the inside of her bottom lip, wondering what to do. Then placed her half-full glass on the tray of a passing waiter. “I tendto prefer things not so complex. It makes it hard to get the true flavour.”
“I see.”
She doubted it. She was starting to hate that smirk, but at the same time, she found it dangerously intriguing.
He angled his body, shielding her from some of the stares. “So, EJ, I couldn’t help but notice you seemed to be watching me earlier.”
“I think people are fascinating.”
“You find me fascinating, do you?”
She ignored the hue of arrogance his comment implied, grateful for the inroad into finally talking about her passion project. Imagine if someone like Eric Churchill invested in her app! “How people interact with each other is interesting, what likes and dislikes they have. It’s partly why I started Dream Match, my dating app.”
“I’m finding myself increasingly curious about what likes and dislikes you have, EJ.”
Oh. So this fish wasn’t going to bite on the bait she’d thrown about Dream Match. Oh well. But then, the significance of what he’d just said hit her. He was curious to know about her? “Why?”
“Because you’re not like the others here. I could tell that a mile off.”
Her breath hitched. Was he going to say she didn’t belong? That her clothes were wrong? That he was voting her off the island, before she’d even had a chance to properly pitch her app?
He watched her, as if aware of her inner turmoil.
She snatched at another waiter’s tray, stuffing the morsel inside to buy her time. Whether it was the movement of the boat or the shifts in conversation, she felt unsteady. Maybe food would help. Except—ugh. Gross. She coughed. Caviar did not help.
“Not a fan?” Eric offered her his glass.
She shook her head. No way was she accepting anything more from this man. She shifted back to the table, grateful for Neil who offered her a bottle of water. She chugged that. It was probably way past time to find Gwen and end this very strange night. Thank goodness the yacht had returned to the dock.
She caught Gwen’s eye and pointed to an imaginary watch and mouthed,Sorry.
Gwen nodded before her attention was stolen by the man she was talking with.
EJ turned, only to jump when she realised Eric had drawn close. “I didn’t see you there.”
“First time that’s been said to me tonight.”
Again that sense of him drawing her in closed around her. She swallowed more water, hoping it would spark sense to her brain. She felt itchy, on display, as people watched their conversation. Gratefulness filled her as Gwen escaped her conversation and drew close.
“I hope you don’t mind if I say that I hope to see you again, EJ Bennett.”
Oh my gosh, oh my gosh!Was he serious?
“You’ll find it easier if you have her phone number,” Gwen whispered loudly.
He pulled out his phone, tapped in it, and then held it out to her expectantly. What was she supposed to do? Ignore it, as he’d ignored her offer to shake hands earlier? That felt petty. Or was that simply wise? Her fingers, her insides, everything felt shaky as she glanced at the phone then at him.
No,something cried out within.Don’t do it.
