“Sure am. Am I ever anywhere else?”
“Can you take a break?”
She could practically hear his frown. “I finish up in about ten minutes or so. Why?”
“Come up to the penthouse.”
“The penthouse? Emme, that’s where Mr Montepulciano is staying.”
She nodded. “I know.”
After the briefest pause, his voice sounded more or less normal. “Right. Sounds like you’ve got some explaining to do. I’ll see you soon.”
Emily had washed her uniform the day before. As it was the only outfit she had at her disposal, she pulled it back on and tidied her hair into a ballerina style bun. The doorbell rang only a second after she’d inserted the last pin.
She wrenched it open, a nervous smile face on her face.
Ewan stood on the other side, his confusion obvious. “What are you doing here, babes?”
“It’s a long story. Come in.”
Ewan stepped into the apartment, but felt as though he’d crossed an invisible barrier. “How the other half lives, huh?” He said conspiratorially, winking at Emily.
She smiled back, but sadness was in her heart. Sabato Montepulciano was the other half. Not even the other half. He was the other five percent. Sickeningly wealthy. And Ewan was right to segregate Emily from him. They were different, her and Ewan. They were two cogs in the machine that made the other half’s lives easier.
“So?” He prompted, staring at Emily. She seemed different. Less approachable. Then she smiled, and she was her usual self.
“So,” she nodded. “Coffee?”
“Emily!” He laughed. “What the heck is going on?”
“We met at that thing the other night. I guess you could say sparks flew …”
“Woah. Between you and Mister Moneybags?”
She nodded, her cheeks flushing. “It’s not a big deal,” she fibbed. “I mean, he flies out tomorrow, so it’s just this weekend.” She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry about work.”
“Hey, I get it. Sparks flew.”
She bit down on her lip. “I wouldn’t have missed work though, Ewan. He organised that without my knowledge.”
“He seems like that kind of control freak.”
The assessment, though true, rankled. “He was trying to be sweet.”
“Sweet? Montepulciano is many things, babe. Sweet is not one of them.”
Emily took in a deep breath. “Have you met him?”
Ewan pulled a face. “Once. And I don’t need to know him better than that. His exploits are well documented. He’s a world-renowned womaniser, and a devotee of the bottom line.”
Emily shook her head. Though she was tempted to pump Ewan for as much information as possible, she wasn’t sure it was a good idea at all. Everything with Sabato had been so perfect; did she want to ruin it with too much knowledge? She changed the topic, moving her friend onto safer ground. It was a surprisingly pleasant way to distract herself from Sabato’s absence. She really did value Ewan’s friendship, and as they joked and laughed their way through the afternoon, Emily realised dusk was upon them.
She was about to remark on how late Sabato was when the door pressed inwards and the man himself was framed inside the suite. She and Ewan turned as one.
Emily’s heart was racing in her chest, and her stomach was in knots at the sight of him. “Hi.”
His eyes were warm as they took in her appearance. Minus the apron, but very much otherwise as she’d been the first time he’d seen her. Then, he looked at Ewan and his expression shifted.