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“Emma!”
At my voice, she turns and I see the way she almost seems to brace herself. “Look, if you want me to leave I can go. I just-“
“Leave?” I stare at her in confusion. Why on earth would I want her to leave?
“I know you’re not happy about … this … and I just … maybe it would be better if I just-“
“Emma, I’m not happy about you not telling me about this. I couldn’t care less about your family’s financial situation.”
She falls silent for a long moment. Staring at me. Her eyes are wide, as if she’s not entirely sure what she’s hearing.
“Come on, let’s go inside. You need to sit down.” I lead her in and help her to the couch because at the moment she seems to be incapable of even that. “Now, look, I wish you would have told me more about your family. And that you’d felt like you could open up to me. But, I’m not mad that your family is poor, Emma.”
“You’re not?”
“No. What does it matter to me what kind of money you have? And it matters even less what kind of money they have.”
“I just thought … with us being from two such totally different worlds …”
“We always knew we were from different worlds, Emma. This doesn’t change that at all.”
“And earlier. It seemed like you were upset by the news.”
“I wasn’t upset at the news. I was upset that I had to hear something about you from my mother. And I was even more angry with her for interfering in the first place. I’m sorry if that seemed like it was directed at you.”
“I’m just relieved,” she replies and she certainly looks it.
Her shoulders drop, and her face more relaxed. And speaking of her face …
“What have you done to yourself?” I ask, taking in the much thicker layer of makeup than she normally wears.
“Hmm? Oh, well, I was quite upset when I left your office. One of the other girls helped me cover it up so I could get back to work.”
I feel guilty yet again because I know that’s because of me. And because I knew she was upset when she left but I didn’t really pay attention to it.
“You don’t like it?” She touches the side of her face, a confused expression in her eyes as she meets my gaze.
“No,” I reply bluntly. “It doesn’t look like you.”
“Well, she did a great job. I had people all night telling me that I looked great.”
“They need to get their eyes checked,” I retort, and she laughs.
“You really do have that playboy thing down, don’t you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You look better without makeup? You’re telling me that’s not a line you use with everyone?”
“No. There have been plenty of them that did look better with makeup.”
“You’re not supposed to say that,” she laughs and I shake my head.
“If I’m not supposed to say someone looks better with makeup and I’m also not supposed to say they look better without it, then what am I supposed to say?”
“You’re supposed to say that they look good.”
I move closer to her, placing my hands on the back of the couch on either side of her head. “Oh, Baby Girl, you look much better than good,” I murmur and she practically leans in toward me. I’m not about to let any of this go to waste and immediately my mouth is on hers, enjoying the taste of her even without touching the rest of her body. But, of course, that doesn’t last long.
