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Her attention is back on the window overlooking the city, her fingertips tapping on her desk. I glance toward the door, wondering if I should offer to walk her to her car. “I could walk you out,” I say softly.
She smiles again. “That would be nice, thank you.”
It’s a dangerous step. One that’ll put us directly in the view of anyone we cross paths with and whoever is watching the security cameras. Maybe we’ll run into Anton. I imagine the old bastard wouldn’t be happy to see his plan to drive me crazy backfiring. Because he knows I don’t work well with others, and putting me in an office with someone else is his way of punishing me for challenging him... even though he’d given me what I asked for.
Either that, or he expected us to start having feelings for one another, and his plan is to use that against us.
Whatever he wants to do next is fine. I have a plan for however things might unfold next. But one thing is for sure, I’m not letting Emma slip through my fingertips. Unless she wants to leave - which I’d let her do without hesitation - I’m not letting her go without a fight.
We both glance up at the door as someone knocks. Before we can move, the handle turns and the door swings open. I hear her gasp and straighten my shoulders as Sterling saunters into the room.
He walks right up to Emma and pulls her into a hug, even as she pushes him away. It takes every bit of self-control I possess to stay calm and in place.
I wonder if Emma is falling for his polished charm; his smile is too wide, too practiced, like he spent far too long looking in a mirror and perfecting it. And the I own you look in his eyes is impossible to miss, but his charm might hide his intentions from Emma. Not that I think she’s easily fooled - she’s a highly intelligent woman - but he’s had more practice fooling people than the average jerk.
“What are you doing here?” Emma demands, her voice sounding almost breathless. But that breathlessness sounds more like anger than anything positive.
She takes a step back, smoothing her blond hair as if worried the mass has sprung free from her tight bun. He has her nervous, maybe even scared. “I told you I’d take you out for dinner,” he says in a loving tone. But I know better. Beneath that veneer of sweetness a predator stalks the woman I’m falling for. He’s not actually worried about her; he’s focused on winning. Winning her, winning against me, and winning the desperate war waging within him that obviously leaves him feeling like he’s not enough.
“I told you I have plans,” she says, still firm as she stands up to him.
She has plans? She didn’t mention anything to me. Not that she owes me any answers, I’m just surprised her plans didn’t come up throughout the course of our day.
“And after dinner, I can take you home.” He moves closer to her, encroaching on her space in a way that has her shifting, searching for an escape. His hands reach for her hips, but she backs up a step and his attitude shifts.
“I told you, I have plans tonight.” She tries again and I wonder if he can’t hear her or simply isn’t listening.
“So cancel them,” he says.
She lets out a stunned grunt of surprise at his demand and I bring a hand to my forehead, trying to keep my cool as I run my hands through my hair in disbelief. Did he really just say that? Is this some elaborate prank? Is he joking?
“When we get home, I’ll rub your feet, draw you a bath, and satisfy any other desires you have.” He lets out a grinding laugh that has her curling a lip in disgust - not that he’ll notice her response. Or if he does, he’ll somehow twist it to something favorable. I lean back against my desk, feigning indifference, but listening carefully and watching for any cue from her that she needs backup.
I keep my fists from clenching. Emma deserves better than this. She deserves someone who won’t suffocate her with false promises and empty gestures that’ll dry up - along with his interest - as soon as he’s conquered her.
“We won’t be going home, because I’m not canceling my plans.” She stares up at him, slowly shaking her head as if she can’t believe this conversation either. One thing I do notice, she steers clear of looking at me. No doubt to keep Sterling’s attention away from me.
Sterling takes a step closer and she raises a hand like a barrier between them. His hands find her shoulders, then slide down her arms as she tries to back up again. Her eyes meet mine and I see her silent plea, her soundless cry for help even as she shakes her head as if telling me to keep my distance.
“You will,” he says, kissing the top of her head as she tries to lean as far away from him as possible.
“No, I won’t. I have plans.” Despite his aggressive, controlling stance, her voice is steady and composed.
But he keeps talking, his words blurring into a nauseating drone that continues on and on and on. I can feel Emma’s patience wear thin along with mine. And she cuts him off, her tone as sharp as glass. “I don’t know how much clearer I can be,” she says, glaring up at him. “We’re done. Through. Not dating anymore. I’m not interested in you. I don’t want to go anywhere with you. I want you to leave me alone and lose my number.”
Sterling finally seems to hear her. His features scrunch with disbelief etched in every line. I remind myself to stay calm and stay out of this unless she signals me that she needs help. Even though I can talk myself down, my heart still races and my knuckles itch. I want nothing more than to have Sterling meet my knuckles, up close and personal.
“Emma, would you like me to call security?” I ask, reminding her she has options.
“She doesn't need you to do anything, assface,” Sterling says.
I chuckle, amused by his childish insult as Emma’s gaze darts to me, filled with worry.
At my quiet chuckle, Sterling seems to pause and reconsider, to calculate the risks of what he’s doing. Which is just fine with me. I don’t care how this plays out, so long as Emma is safe and happy. I can see the gratitude in her expression and nod. I hope she knows that her safety matters more than any consequence I might face.
“It’s time for you to leave,” Emma says, her confidence shining in her voice as she faces Sterling. “You’re no longer welcome here, and if you show up, you’ll be met with security.”
I’m proud of her for standing up for herself. She’s an incredible woman, and I hope she never doubts herself or her ability to handle any situation with grace and power.
