CHAPTER 5: First Evening

Emma spent an hour exploring the penthouse, trying to wrap her head around the fact that this was now her life. Every room was more intimidating than the last, a library with floor-to-ceiling books, a wine cellar that looked like it belonged in a castle, a gym that was better equipped than most professional facilities.

How does one person need all this space? she wondered, standing in what appeared to be a formal dining room with a table that could seat twenty people.

And how lonely must he be, living here all by himself?

The thought made her chest tight in ways she didn't want to examine.

Emma ended up in the kitchen, staring at the takeout menus Adrian had mentioned. Italian, Thai, Japanese, French restaurants she'd heard of but could never afford.

I could order anything I want, she realized. Money isn't an issue anymore.

The thought was both liberating and terrifying.

She was still standing there, paralyzed by options, when she heard Adrian's office door open.

"Any decisions on dinner?" he asked, walking into the kitchen.

Emma held up the stack of menus helplessly. "There are too many choices. I'm not used to..." She trailed off, embarrassed.

"Not used to what?"

Not used to being able to afford food that doesn't come in a box or can. "Not used to fancy restaurants," she said instead.

Adrian's expression softened. "What do you like? When money isn't an issue, what sounds good to you?"

Emma thought about it. "Honestly? Something simple. Comfort food."

"There's a place that does incredible grilled cheese and tomato soup," Adrian said. "Elevated comfort food. Would that work?"

He's trying to make this easier for me, Emma realized. He could have suggested the most expensive place on the list, but he's meeting me where I am.

"That sounds perfect," she said quietly.

Adrian called in the order, and Emma found herself watching him as he spoke. The way his voice changed when he was being polite to strangers, warmer, less commanding. The way he absently ran his hand through his hair while he talked.

Stop staring, she told herself. You're supposed to be maintaining professional boundaries.

But it was hard to think of boundaries when they were standing in his kitchen like a couple discussing dinner plans.

"Twenty minutes," Adrian said, hanging up. "Wine while we wait?"

Emma hesitated. "I should probably keep a clear head."

"Afraid of what you might do if you relax?" Adrian's smile was teasing, but there was something serious in his golden eyes.

Yes, Emma thought. Terrified of what I might do.

"One glass," she said instead.

Adrian opened a bottle that probably cost more than Emma used to make in a week, pouring two glasses of red wine that looked like liquid ruby.

"To new beginnings," he said, raising his glass.

Emma clinked her glass against his, trying to ignore the way her fingers tingled when they brushed his. "To survive whatever I've gotten myself into."

Adrian's laugh was rich and warm. "You'll do more than survive, Emma. You'll thrive."

The way he says my name, Emma thought, taking a sip of wine that was so smooth it was probably illegal. Like it means something to him.

They stood in comfortable silence for a few moments, and Emma found herself studying Adrian's profile as he looked out at the city lights.

"Can I ask you something?" she said finally.

"You can ask. I may not answer."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Very reassuring. How long have you lived here?"

"About five years. I had it custom built."

Custom built. Of course he did. "Do you ever get lonely? Living in all this space by yourself?"

Adrian turned to look at her, and something flickered across his face. "Every day."

The honesty in his answer caught Emma off guard. "Then why not... I don't know, get roommates? Date someone seriously?"

"I was waiting for the right person," Adrian said quietly.

Was. Past tense. Emma's heart did something complicated in her chest.

"And now?" she asked.

Adrian's eyes met hers, and Emma felt like she couldn't breathe. "Now she's here."

The words hung between them like a challenge. Emma knew she should look away, should say something to defuse the tension, and should remind him that she was his employee and this was inappropriate.

Instead, she found herself asking: "What if she's not ready?"

"Then I'll wait," Adrian said simply. "I'm good at waiting."

Fifteen years, Emma thought. He waited fifteen years.

The doorbell chimed, breaking the spell. Adrian went to get their food, leaving Emma alone with her racing heart and half-empty wine glass.

Get it together, she told herself firmly. You work for him. This is your boss. You cannot develop feelings for your boss.

But as Adrian returned with bags that smelled like heaven, Emma realized it might already be too late for that warning.

"Dining room or more casual?" Adrian asked.

Emma looked toward the formal dining room with its intimidating table and chandelier. "Casual. Definitely casual."

Adrian smiled. "Kitchen island it is."

They unpacked the food together, gourmet grilled cheese sandwiches that looked like works of art, and tomato soup that was probably made with ingredients Emma couldn't even pronounce. It was comfort food, but elevated to a level she'd never experienced.

"This is incredible," Emma said after her first bite.

"Worth the price?" Adrian asked, and there was something almost nervous in his voice.

Emma looked at him in surprise. "Are you actually worried about whether I like the food?"

"I want you to be comfortable here," Adrian said. "I want you to be happy."

I want you to be happy. The simple statement hit Emma like a punch to the chest.

"Why?" she asked quietly. "Why does my happiness matter to you?"

Adrian set down his sandwich and looked at her seriously. "Because for fifteen years, the only thing that got me through some very dark days was the thought that somewhere out there, you were okay. You were living your life, maybe even happy sometimes."

Emma felt tears prick her eyes. "Adrian..."

"And then I found you," he continued, "and you weren't okay. You were struggling and exhausted and trying so hard to hold everything together. And I realized that all those years I spent imagining you happy... you weren't."

He felt guilty, Emma realized. All this time, he felt guilty that I was struggling while he was successful.

"That wasn't your responsibility," she said softly.

"Wasn't it?" Adrian's golden eyes were intense. "I made you a promise on that playground, Emma. I promised I'd protect you. And I failed."

"You were nine years old!"

"Age doesn't matter when you care about someone," Adrian said. "When you... when you love someone."

Emma's breath caught. *Love.*

"Adrian"

"I know it's too much," he said quickly. "I know it's too soon and too intense and probably completely insane. But I've loved you since I was nine years old, Emma. Even when I didn't fully understand what that meant."

Emma stared at him, her heart hammering so hard she was sure he could hear it.

He loves me. He's been in love with me for fifteen years.

"That's impossible," she whispered.

"Is it? You felt it too, didn't you? On that playground? The connection?"

Emma closed her eyes, remembering that day. The way Adrian had looked at her like she was precious. The way she'd felt completely safe for the first time in months.

"I was eight," she said weakly.

"And you knew," Adrian said gently. "Even at eight, you knew there was something special between us."

I did know, Emma realized. I've been dreaming about golden eyes for fifteen years because I knew.

"This is crazy," she said.

"Yes," Adrian agreed. "It is."

"People don't fall in love when they're children and stay in love for fifteen years."

"Most people don't," Adrian said. "But we're not most people, are we?"

Emma looked into his golden eyes and felt something settle into place in her chest. Something that had been restless and searching for years.

No, she thought. We're definitely not most people.

"I'm scared," she admitted.

"Of me?"

"Of this. Of how I feel when I look at you." Emma's voice was barely a whisper. "Of how right this feels when it should feel completely wrong."

Adrian reached across the kitchen island and took her hand. His skin was warm, almost burning, and Emma felt electricity shoot up her arm.

"It doesn't have to be scary," he said softly.

"Doesn't it?" Emma looked down at their joined hands. "You're my boss. You've been manipulating my life for years. You have secrets you won't tell me. This should terrify me."

"But it doesn't."

It wasn't a question. Adrian knew, just like Emma knew.

"No," she whispered. "It doesn't."

Adrian's thumb stroked over her knuckles, and Emma shivered.

"What happens now?" she asked.

"Now," Adrian said, "we take this one day at a time. You get used to living here. You learn to work with me. You let me take care of you the way I should have been doing for fifteen years."

Let him take care of me. The thought was both appealing and terrifying.

"And the other thing?" Emma asked quietly. "The... feelings?"

"The feelings can develop naturally," Adrian said. "No pressure. No expectations. Just... possibility."

Possibility. Emma liked the sound of that.

"Okay," she said softly.

Adrian's smile was radiant. "Okay?"

"Okay." Emma squeezed his hand. "But I have conditions."

"Name them."

"No more making decisions about my life without asking me first. If we're going to do this - whatever this is - we do it as equals."

"Agreed."

"And no more secrets. Not the big ones. I don't need to know everything right away, but I need to know you're planning to tell me."

Adrian hesitated. "Some of my secrets are... difficult."

"I'm tougher than I look," Emma said.

"I know you are." Adrian brought her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to her palm. "That's one of the things I love about you."

The kiss sent heat racing through Emma's entire body. When Adrian looked at her over their joined hands, his eyes were glowing with that impossible golden light.

"Soon," he promised quietly. "I'll tell you everything soon."

Emma nodded, not trusting her voice.

They finished dinner in comfortable silence, the air between them charged with possibility and promise. When they were done, Adrian insisted on cleaning up while Emma protested that she should help.

"You've had enough upheaval for one day," he said firmly. "Go relax. Take a bath. Get used to your new space."

Take a bath. Emma thought about the enormous bathtub she'd seen in her bathroom and realized that sounded like heaven.

"What about you?" she asked.

"I have some work to catch up on," Adrian said. "I'll see you in the morning."

Emma hesitated at the kitchen doorway. "Adrian?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For dinner. For... all of this."

Adrian's smile was soft and beautiful. "Thank you for staying."

For staying. As Emma walked to her bedroom, she realized that staying was exactly what she wanted to do.

For the first time in years, she was exactly where she belonged.