Finley Thomas dropped Emmie Stewart off at the Hamilton residence, and it was already 8 PM. Emmie crept up to the room's window, carefully opened it, and quickly climbed inside. She finally breathed a sigh of relief in the dimly lit room.
"Gurgle, gurgle."
Her stomach growled, reminding her just how hungry she was. She couldn't simply march into the kitchen to raid the fridge, could she? The idea of running into any of the Hamiltons and having to explain herself was mortifying.
After much internal debate, she decided that satisfying her hunger was more important than any embarrassment she might face. She opened the door to check the hallway. The light was on in the living room, but it was empty. She cautiously headed toward the kitchen. Halfway there, she noticed an aloof figure watching her with a look of condescension, as if... as if waiting for her.
Ugh.
Emmie inwardly groaned at her bad luck. Of all people, she had to run into Kairi Hamilton, who seemed ready to give her a hard time.
"Were you waiting just for me, Kairi?" Emmie asked, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
"That's right," Kairi said instantly, much to Emmie's surprise. It left her wondering what Kairi was up to; she couldn’t imagine it was anything good.
"Oh? Well, thank you," Emmie replied dryly.
Kairi smirked and stepped closer, pretending to brush some imaginary lint off Emmie's jacket before stepping back as though she might catch something. Emmie was left puzzled but didn’t bother to engage further because her growling stomach demanded her attention.
Just as her hand touched the refrigerator door, she heard Kairi’s mocking laughter from the staircase. "Haha, bad news for you—the stuff in the fridge is almost expired. I wasn't about to eat that dodgy food, so I tossed it."
"You!"
Emmie was fuming, but she knew getting into a verbal spat with Kairi was pointless. She forced a bright smile. "Thanks for the heads-up. I just need some water. The Hamiltons aren't running low on that, I hope?"
As Kairi's face twisted in annoyance, Emmie opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, and patted her stomach, silently resigning herself to the fact that water would have to suffice.
Kairi scoffed and retreated to her room. Emmie, worn out, lay on her bed, sipping water until she drifted into a restless sleep.
The next morning, as the first rays of sunlight snuck through the window, Emmie stretched and inhaled the fresh air, letting her worries dissolve in the morning calm.
Aunt Lizzy, the housekeeper, greeted her warmly, inviting her to breakfast. After getting ready, Emmie joined the table, noticing Kairi was absent, Mr. Hamilton was engrossed in his newspaper, and Mrs. Hamilton was slowly eating toast, occasionally chatting with her husband. They paused when Emmie arrived.
"Good morning, Aunt Lizzy," Emmie greeted, eager to dive into the breakfast spread.
Mrs. Hamilton did not acknowledge her greeting and continued with her meal. Emmie didn’t mind; she had been polite, and it was up to them how they responded.
Kairi was still absent during breakfast, which puzzled Emmie, but Aunt Lizzy whispered that Kairi usually slept late and ate breakfast whenever she woke up.
Emmie offered to help Aunt Lizzy with the dishes, but Aunt Lizzy insisted she didn’t need help, so Emmie stayed and chatted with her. Out of curiosity, she asked Aunt Lizzy how she came to work for the Hamiltons.
Aunt Lizzy sighed, "My kid got into trouble and ended up in jail. Mr. Hamilton was gracious enough to offer me a job here as a housekeeper. It's mostly cooking, not too demanding."
"Mr. Hamilton is kind, then?" Emmie asked, a bit surprised by this charitable side of him.
"You don't know the half of it," Aunt Lizzy started but abruptly stopped, staring past Emmie’s shoulder. Emmie turned to see Kairi standing silently behind her, expressionless.
Aunt Lizzy hastily set down the dishes and retrieved breakfast from the warmer. "Miss Kairi, you're up early today."
With a raised eyebrow, Kairi retorted, "Are you saying I usually sleep in like a sloth?"
"No, no, I meant why not enjoy a little more sleep?" Aunt Lizzy, flustered, retreated to the kitchen.
Emmie watched Kairi eat, noting how much she resembled Mrs. Hamilton in her demeanor, treating breakfast like a drawn-out affair.
Not wanting to linger, Emmie grabbed a glass of water and headed back to her room, closing the door just as Kairi's teasing words reached her, "More water? Didn't you have enough of that last night?"
Refusing to let Kairi get under her skin, Emmie set the glass on the table and lay on the bed, lost in thought. Shortly after, her limited edition phone rang, and she knew exactly who it was.
"Hello?" Emmie answered cautiously.
"Emmie, care to step outside? I'm waiting at your door," Asher Olson's cheerful voice came through.
After breakfast, Asher appeared outside the Hamilton residence. Emmie, dressed and ready, stepped out to see Asher looking sharp in a tailored suit, as steady as an oak next to his car.
As she approached, Asher courteously opened the car door, and Emmie, embracing an elegant demeanor, slipped inside. Once the car started, she broke the silence. "So, where are we heading?"
"Do you enjoy opera?" Asher asked instead. Emmie was amused. Opera? She hadn't even been to a movie theater, let alone an opera.
Emmie didn't reveal the truth. She had promised Mr. Hamilton she'd make Asher fond of her, so she nodded with feigned enthusiasm. "I do."
"Great," Asher beamed. "We're off to see an opera. I was worried you might not enjoy it."
"Oh, I will," Emmie replied, turning to the window to hide her inner turmoil. She had no idea about opera, and now she had to pretend otherwise.
As they walked into the opera house, Emmie felt even more out of her element. Asher had chosen an opulent VIP box with plush red velvet sofas, making her feel awkward.
The opera began, and within minutes Emmie was restless. She reminded herself to endure it, even if she didn't understand it. Yet, glancing at Asher, who seemed enthralled, she hesitated to interrupt him.
Quietly, she got up to leave, seeking a brief escape. Unexpectedly, Asher caught her wrist, whispering, "Where are you going? Is the opera boring?"
"It's not that," Emmie fibbed, "I need to use the restroom."
"Oh, alright," Asher said quickly, freeing her. In the darkened room, she was spared from seeing his blushing cheeks.
Feeling liberated, Emmie rushed out. Passing another VIP box, she paused, spotting a couple in a passionate embrace. The woman had golden hair, her eyes closed in pleasure, while the man... Emmie grinned, quickly taking out her exclusive phone, snapping a photo, and hurrying to the restroom.
Splashing cold water on her face cleared away her drowsiness. Reviewing the phone's screen, she nearly burst out laughing—she finally had some leverage over him.
"What’s got you so amused, Emmie?" asked a voice.
"Ah!" Startled, Emmie nearly dropped the phone but managed to catch it in time. She scanned the room for the source.
Leaning against the restroom entrance was a suave, enigmatic man, his lips curved in a perfect arch. When his fox-like eyes settled on Emmie, she felt as if doused in ice water. It took a moment to gather herself before she exclaimed, "You creep! This is the ladies' room!"
The man, unfazed, stepped back. As Emmie recoiled, she nearly lost her balance. One large hand caught her, pulling her upright. Dazed, Emmie stared into his face.
Momentarily, she was captivated, unable to describe his features. It seemed all the world's beauty was encapsulated there. His dark, glossy hair framed chiseled features, and his soulful eyes held an unreadable depth. His lips, like cherry blossoms, curved into a disarming smile, and his radiant skin gleamed like porcelain.
The man steadied her, his expression warm and gentle as a spring breeze. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, thank you," Emmie murmured, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks, surely bright red from embarrassment.
"No thanks needed. I'm glad you're okay."
His movements had an elegant, artistic grace. Emmie, regaining her composure, offered her hand with a courteous nod. "I'm Emmie Stewart. Sorry for bumping into you earlier."
"No problem. I'm Asher Olson." He shook her hand lightly, his gaze shifting past Emmie.
Following his eyes, Emmie noticed Finley Thomas nearby, and warmth crept into her cheeks again, recalling her earlier mishap.
"Asher? You're late," Finley called.
What was happening? Asher, it turned out, was Finley's acquaintance! What a twist.
"I wanted to be early, but got caught up with work," Asher explained as he walked over to Finley. They exchanged a few words in whispers, leaving Emmie feeling awkward.
Without looking back, Emmie quickened her pace toward the elevator, eager to leave. She anxiously watched the elevator’s floor numbers descending, needing just one more floor to escape.
Behind her, Finley's footsteps drew nearer. His voice echoed as he approached, "Leaving so soon, Emmie?"
"Hehe," Emmie chuckled nervously, "You and your friend must have things to discuss. I really should get going."
"My friend invited you for coffee. Would you refuse him?" Finley gestured toward Asher, who wore a welcoming smile. In truth, it was a trap—Asher hadn’t invited her; it was merely a common courtesy among friends, one Finley intended to exploit.
Unaware of Finley's plan, Emmie glanced at Asher. His perfect smile was hard to resist, but something about Finley’s demeanor seemed off. Better to escape now.
"Sorry, I do have other matters to attend to," Emmie said, approaching Asher. "I'll take a rain check. Another time, perhaps?"
Thinking she was apologizing for their earlier clash, Asher waved it off. "No worries, take care."
Feeling like she'd been granted a reprieve, Emmie reached the elevator and stepped inside just as it arrived.
After Emmie left, Asher looked forward to catching up with Finley over drinks. But Finley’s mood had soured, his usually pale face clouded with dark thoughts. Recognizing this, Asher shifted the conversation.
"Is something bothering you, Finley?"
Asher’s presence reminded Finley of the humiliation from earlier. He had been thwarted in his plans, unable to rile Emmie as he'd hoped. “I'm fine, just delighted,” he replied sarcastically.
"You seem frustrated, Finley. Don't forget I can see through you," Asher teased, tapping his temple.
"You really are the expert," Finley mocked, rubbing his temple in frustration. "You... never mind."
"What is it?" Asher leaned closer, eyebrows raised. "That girl—do you know her well?"
"More than I’d like," Finley responded bitterly.
"Something romantic?" Asher's grin sparkled like a night sky full of stars.
"Don't be ridiculous! I’ve known her less than two days. Even you can be whimsical," Finley scoffed.
Asher's curiosity was piqued. In all their years of friendship, Finley never showed interest in romance, always maintaining a distant, analytical gaze on the world around him.
"Alright, maybe I'm overthinking. Just be careful not to involve anyone else in your plans," Asher warned, his expression somber.
"Don't lecture me, Asher. My mother and I were discarded by Martin Thomas for years—I won't simply forgive that!" Finley’s eyes glinted with icy rage, transforming his once-gentle smile into something menacing, like a winter storm sweeping through.
This was the expression Asher dreaded, the one that suffocated any room, leaving all within it to gasp for air and eventually surrender. "Fine, I won't interfere with your affairs, but that girl..."
"She's already caught in it. Does the name Emmie Stewart sound familiar?" Finley's eyes bore into Asher’s, daring him to deny it.
"Emmie Stewart? Emm... wait," Asher’s eyes widened in realization. "She's... your brother's fiancée, your sister-in-law!"
The revelation left Asher speechless. He’d thought Emmie was just another acquaintance of Finley’s, never expecting such a bombshell.
"Yes, she's destined to be at the center of this hurricane," Finley declared, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "You're not falling for her, are you?"
"Of course not. I just don’t want you to..." Asher trailed off, concerned about Finley's potentially destructive path.
