Bergdorf Goodman was a zoo on Friday. Emma wasn’t a shopper and she hated crowds, but she was climbing the walls in her apartment waiting for her meeting with Nathan. She waved off an enthusiastic salesgirl and browsed halfheartedly. Across the room near the jewelry cases, a woman caught her eye. Tall, exotic, and graceful, she pointed out an item to the extremely attentive salesman helping her. Alex. As if sensing Emma’s gaze, she lifted her head slightly, like a lion sniffing prey, noted Emma’s presence, and moved down a case or two. Emma made her way to the exit, but before she could steer to another path to avoid Alex, she swung around.
“Emma, is it?”
“Yes, hello,” she said coolly.
“Did you enjoy your little interview?”
“Yes.” What is she playing at?
“Nathan’s a master.”
“At what?”
“Handling interviewers.”
“Well, I wasn’t handled, if that’s what your concern is.”
Her lips lifted in a calculated smile.
“Not at all. I was merely pointing out that Nate can be difficult to probe. He always has the upper hand.”
“Good to know.”
“And when he tires of you, he sends me the 911 text, and I come and rescue him.”
The salesman cleared his throat. He had been standing behind her for the entire exchange, holding a hideous pair of cufflinks.
“He’ll love those. I’ll take them.” Alex returned her attention to Emma. “Just a little thank you for him.”
“Thank you?” Emma took the bait.
“An ex tried to make me leave a club with him last night. Nate stepped in.”
Oh, she was good. In two sentences she had painted herself as a desirable woman, a damsel in distress, and the object of Nathan’s attention. Emma wasn’t fooled for a second.
“Here’s the thing. When I first saw you, you were looking at bracelets, the cuff with the opal, I believe. It wasn’t until you spotted me that you moved down to the cufflink case. Then you sought me out to tell your story. That tells me a lot.”
Alex grabbed a thick strand of hair and ran her fist down the length of it. She was rattled. Good.
“Oh, really,” she stalled. She needed to regroup.
“Yes. It tells me you’re nervous.”
She laughed. “O-ho-kay,” she mocked.
“Please don’t worry. I’m just here for the interview, then he’s all yours. My only interest in Nathan Bishop is what he can tell my readers.” Emma tried for sincerity, going for a truce. Kind of.
“Probably for the best. He doesn’t do frigid.” Direct hit. “See you around, Emma.”
Emma felt like someone had let the air out of her tires. She couldn’t let her win. She was being petty and competitive and even risky. And at that moment, shejust didn’t care.
“Alex?”
She swung back around with a cover girl smile and a raised brow.
“Yes?”
“He can’t stand being called Nate. Everybody who’s close to him knows that.”