Chapter 63 Caught in the Crossfire
"But..."
"Call me Wesley, or I'm walking out of here right now." Wesley made a show of standing up to leave.
Emily quickly called out. "Wesley."
Wesley settled back down with a satisfied smile. "That's better."
The address change seemed to instantly bridge the distance between them. They fell into easy conversation, moving from the design inspiration behind the "Starburst" collection to the art direction in Wesley's latest film, from current minimalist trends to indie cinema...
Sunlight streamed through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, casting warm golden patches across their table.
Emily occasionally laughed at Wesley's jokes, her eyes crinkling with genuine mirth as the initial reserve in her gaze gradually melted away. Watching her relax, Wesley's smile became increasingly genuine.
Diners at nearby tables couldn't help stealing glances at them, whispering about how this striking pair looked perfectly matched, like a couple in perfect harmony.
Time slipped by, but Wesley's "friend" was nowhere to be seen. He checked his watch, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly before he excused himself to make a call.
The phone rang several times before Ethan picked up, his voice breathless and flustered. "Wesley, I'm so sorry! I can't make it today. I promise I'll treat you to cake another time!"
Wesley's concern was immediate. "What happened?"
"Nothing serious, just... I made too many mistakes on my homework, and I'm still not done. Please don't be mad at me. I really didn't mean to bail!"
Wesley chuckled. "Alright, I get it. Focus on your homework and stop thinking about playing around. The cake can wait."
After hanging up, he turned back to Emily with an apologetic expression: "Sorry, my friend had something come up and can't make it."
Emily shook her head. "No problem. Shall we order dinner then?"
"Sounds good." Wesley picked up the menu and naturally handed it to her.
Night had fully fallen outside, city lights beginning to twinkle and turning Sunset Bistro's windows into sheets of glowing amber.
In their booth, the conversation continued, and the atmosphere was even more comfortable than before.
Emily found that beneath the "movie star" persona, Wesley was genuinely cultured. His insights were unique, and he had a knack for picking up her conversational threads at just the right moments. Talking with him felt surprisingly effortless.
Wesley, watching Emily across from him, found her increasingly fascinating. Unlike the calculating women in his industry, she had her own thoughts and convictions. When discussing design, her eyes lit up with passion, and when she smiled, there was an almost hidden tenderness in her expression.
This dinner was turning out far more interesting than he'd anticipated.
Meanwhile, in the second-floor surveillance room, Charles stared at the monitors, his fingers drumming absently on the desk.
He'd come to Sunset Bistro to handle some business matters, never expecting to witness Emily and Wesley's animated conversation.
Charles's expression grew increasingly dark.
Since when had those two become so close?
From his vantage point overlooking the first floor, Charles watched Emily smile. Her eyes were bright and carefree in a way he'd never seen before.
Wesley's gaze held undisguised admiration, even a hint of that focused intensity Charles recognized all too well—the look of a hunter sizing up his prey.
Charles shot to his feet, grabbed his coat, and headed downstairs.
Below, Emily and Wesley were deep in conversation when commotion erupted at a nearby table.
A server carrying two freshly brewed coffees had apparently tripped over something, his body lurching forward as one of the cups went flying directly toward Emily's white blouse.
The scalding coffee was less than two feet from her shirt.
"Watch out!"
Acting on pure instinct, Wesley reached out and pulled Emily into his arms.
His arm wrapped firmly around her shoulders, spinning her aside and out of harm's way.
The hot coffee splashed harmlessly against the empty chair behind her, leaving a dark stain on the upholstery.
The server went pale with terror, stammering apologies. "I'm so sorry! So sorry! I didn't mean to!"
Sheltered in Wesley's embrace, Emily's heart was still racing.
She could feel the strength of his arms, the warmth of his body through his shirt, and even catch the fresh scent of his vetiver cologne.
They were impossibly close—her cheek nearly pressed against his chest, close enough to hear his steady, strong heartbeat.
"Are you okay?" Wesley's voice came from above her.
Emily snapped back to reality, quickly stepping out of his arms as her cheeks flushed crimson, heat spreading to her ears. "I'm fine. Thank you."
She unconsciously smoothed her blouse, unable to meet his eyes.
Wesley released her, his fingertips seeming to retain the memory of her shoulder's warmth.
Watching her flushed cheeks and flustered expression, amusement flickered in his eyes before he turned to the server with measured calm. "Be more careful next time."
"Yes, yes! I'm truly sorry!" The server quickly cleaned up the mess and retreated gratefully.
The nearby diners who'd witnessed the near-accident couldn't help but whisper among themselves.
"That was so close! She almost got drenched."
"His reflexes were amazing!"
"They make such a handsome couple!"
These comments only made Emily's face burn brighter.
She grabbed her water glass and took a large gulp, trying to mask her embarrassment.
Wesley found her reaction both amusing and inexplicably endearing.
He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "I suppose they really should replace that carpet."
Their exchange was overheard perfectly by Charles as he pushed through the entrance.
His expression turned cold, the air around him practically crackling with tension.
"Mr. Windsor, what brings you here?" Emily looked up in surprise.
Surely he wasn't here for cake, too?
Charles ignored her, fixing Wesley with a cold stare, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Wesley, are you dissatisfied with my establishment?"
This restaurant was also owned by the Windsor family?
Talking behind someone's back only to have them show up. How mortifying!
Emily felt awkward, but Wesley remained completely unfazed, countering coolly, "As a customer, I was simply offering constructive feedback."
Charles let out a harsh laugh. "How wonderfully idle you are as a movie star—skipping film shoots to offer 'feedback' at my little restaurant and play the hero."
Wesley stood up, a mocking smile playing at his lips. "Mr. Windsor, are you suggesting I should have let her get burned?"
He and Charles had been at odds since childhood, so naturally, there was no need for pleasantries. "Mr. Windsor, why are you here instead of managing your vast empire?"
"I don't need to report to you when I'm inspecting my own properties," Charles shot back without backing down.
Caught between them, Emily felt the air itself crystallizing with tension.