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“Hey,” she says, a bit breathless as she approaches. “I wanted to check in before heading home.”
I nod, trying to act casual. “Good timing. We were just discussing the plumbing issues and the delay with the flooring.”
She raises an eyebrow, glancing at Stephen. “Anything I should be worried about?”
Stephen gives her a reassuring smile. “Nothing we can’t handle, ma’am. Just a few hiccups. We’ll keep pushing through.”
Emily turns back to me, her eyes searching mine for a moment. “Are you okay? You look tired.”
I stiffen slightly, not wanting to get into it. “I’m fine. Just a long day.”
She hesitates, and for a second, I think she’s going to press, but then she just nods. “Alright. Well, if you need anything, let me know. I’ll be around.”
Stephen clears his throat, glancing between us. “I’ll leave you two to it. Got some more things to check on before I wrap up.”
“Thanks, Stephen,” I say, watching as he heads back to his team.
Now it’s just me and Emily, standing in the middle of this half-renovated lobby, with the sounds of drills and hammering echoing around us.
“Is it really bad?” she asks quietly, gesturing to the construction chaos around us.
“It’s not great,” I admit. “But we’ll get there. It’s just going to take more time and money than we originally planned.”
She nods, biting her lower lip in that way she does when she’s deep in thought. I have to look away because seeing it makes me want to kiss her, and I can’t afford to go down that road again.
“Well, if anyone can turn this place around, it’s you,” she says, her voice soft, and I can tell she means it. “You’ve already made so much progress. It’s starting to look hopeful.”
Something in her tone makes me glance up, and I see her watching me with this quiet, unguarded expression that makes my chest tighten. For a moment, I forget where we are, forget about the work, the noise, the stress. It’s just us.
“Thanks,” I say, my voice rougher than I intended. “That means a lot.”
She smiles, and it’s like a breath of fresh air. For a second, I think about reaching out, slipping my arms around her waist. Inhaling that maddeningly intoxicating lavender scent.
“How about dinner?” I say without thinking and immediately regret my words. The last thing I should be doing is getting close to Emily.
Her face creases with a smile and my regret dissipates. “I’d like that.”
We walk around the site discussing the renovations, and decide to take my car and come back for hers later. It’s an amiable drive, continuing our discussion on the work at hand.
I take her to a small, cozy bistro not far from the hotel. It’s one of those hidden gems, tucked away on a quiet street, with ivy crawling up the brick exterior and warm, golden lights glowing through the windows.
I’ve been here a few times before, and I like the atmosphere—intimate, unpretentious, and not overly crowded. I need that tonight.
The hostess smiles and takes us to a table near the back, away from the handful of other diners. The place is warm, the air filled with the faint aroma of herbs and freshly baked bread.
There’s a low murmur of conversation, the kind that blends into the background without intruding. It’s perfect.
We settle into our seats, and I pick up the menu. Although I’ve already memorized most of it, I’m not even sure what I’m in the mood for.
Mostly, I’m just trying to keep my mind off the way Emily looks right now—hair loose around her shoulders, that navy dress hugging her curves. She’s beautiful, but that’s not new.
What is new is how damn hard it is to keep my distance when she’s sitting across from me, looking so damn at ease, even after the past few weeks of us barely speaking.
A waitress appears, and we order drinks. Emily glances around the bistro, her eyes taking in the flickering candles, the rustic wooden tables, the low-hanging lights.
“It’s cute,” she says, her gaze finally landing back on me. “Not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.