Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Charlotte cleared her throat once she was sure she had her laughter under control. "There's no need to panic—-"
"But I'm supposed to meet him in half an hour, and the bus—-"
An idea came to mind, and Charlotte heard herself say, "I know someone you can hitch a ride with. So stop worrying about that, and let's focus on what we can fix, one at a time."
The other woman's calm tone brought Emmy back to her senses, and she could only grimace when she realized how silly she had been acting. "I'm sorry for acting like an idiot. I'm just really nervous," she admitted. "What if he doesn't like me?"
"He will," Charlotte said firmly. "My agency isn't named Heart's Match for nothing."
"But what if I'm going to be your first failure—-"
"You won't. But what you are going to be is late if we don't get moving."
Charlotte ended her video call after getting Emmy to promise not to drive herself crazy by overthinking. Reception called Emmy five minutes later, and she was still rather stunned as she walked back to the locker room with a package in hand.
My personal shopper assures me all of this will fit. You've got this, Em.
Sincerely,
Charlotte
Inside the package was a dress with delicately embroidered flowers sprinkled over its transparent sleeves, fitted bodice, and full ballerina-like skirt. The shoes that came with it were just as breathtaking, with its thin glass heels and crystal-studded straps.
There was one box left to open, and Emmy bit back a laugh when she realized it was a hair-straightening iron, which was exactly what she needed after the horribly curly DIY mess she had come up with overnight.
She took a photo of herself when she was all done and sent it to Charlotte, and the other woman was quick to text back.
So pretty! I bet he won't be able to take his eyes off you.
Charlotte wasn't the type to dish out empty compliments, but Emmy still wasn't convinced. Did she truly look okay?
Her phone buzzed again, with another text from Charlotte coming in.
Your ride is waiting for you outside.
Emmy blinked. Already? She hurried out of the locker room even as she hurriedly fired another text to Charlotte.
How do I know who my ride is?
Worried as she was, Emmy missed how the people she walked past were gawking at her, and her stomach started fluttering in a not-so-good way as she came out of the employee exit of her workplace.
All she saw was a limousine with a uniformed chauffeur...who was now smiling at her and bowing before opening the passenger door at the back.
Huh?
A man stepped out of the limo, and he was not just tall, dark, and handsome, but he was also unfortunately familiar.
Rowland Asherfield?
Her billionaire boss raised a brow. "Are you just going to stand there? Charlotte says you're in a hurry. Was she wrong?"
Chapter Two
THIS.
Was.
So.
AWKWARD.
It almost felt as if she was cursed where her boss was concerned, with how her every encounter with him always turned out to be so, so awfully...awkward.
How could Charlotte think this was in any way fine? He was her boss, and she was one of the two hundred-plus individuals under his employ. For a stable girl like her to hitch a ride with him violated every protocol—-
"Are you going somewhere special?"
Emmy reluctantly lifted her gaze to his, and she was immediately unnerved by how intensely he was staring at her. It almost felt as if he was devouring her with his gaze, and maybe he was. Maybe...he was still pissed about the horse poop she had thrown at him, and now he was even more pissed for being forced or even tricked into offering her a ride.
"I'm so sorry again, sir." Emmy knew it wasn't the answer to his question, but she doubted he was truly interested in where she was truly going. "If I had known you were the one Mrs. Carmichaels would ask—-"
"That's not the answer to my question."
Emmy blinked. Maybe this was a rich person thing? Could she be the first semi-broke person he had shared a ride with, and so he was curious about how people on the other side of the fence lived?
"Yes, I'm going somewhere special," Emmy said finally. "And I'm, um, really grateful—-"
"Aren't you going to ask me how I know you're going somewhere special?"
Huh?
Her mouth opened and closed.
I give up.
This was just getting weirder and weirder, but unlike before, she no longer had to fear losing her job. Since she was about to start a new chapter in her life, there was no reason to hold her tongue, was there?
"Is that a dig about how I normally look, sir? Or dress?"
"Not a dig," her boss drawled, "but an observation."
Emmy could only stare at him. Unbelievable.
"Don't get me wrong, though. I don't want you to change at all—-"
I've had enough, Emmy thought. I've just had it with this man. I don't care if he's the richest man in Texas! The sooner I—-