Chapter 21: Kept late

Chapter 21: Kept late
The three of them ended up in a sleek restaurant a few blocks away. It wasn’t the kind of place Emma ever went to, crystal glasses, white tablecloths, waiters who seemed to judge with a glance.

The hostess lit up when she saw Cole. “Mr. Harrington. Right this way.”

Chloe beamed, loving the attention. “See, everyone knows him,” she whispered loudly to Emma, as if Emma didn’t already know who Cole was.

They were seated at a corner booth. Chloe slid in right beside Cole, leaving Emma across from them like an outsider.

“Isn’t this cozy?” Chloe said, holding onto his arm.

Cole didn’t answer, he picked up the menu.

Emma tried to do the same, but her hands were shaking slightly.

Chloe leaned across. “Emily, you should try the salad. It’s light and good for keeping in shape.”

Emma smiled tightly. “Thanks.”

The waiter came, and Chloe ordered without hesitation. “We’ll have the oysters to start, then the sea bass for him, and I’ll do the salad.”

The waiter turned to Emma. “And for you, miss?”

“I’ll just have the pasta,” Emma said quickly.

Chloe raised her brows. “Pasta at lunch? Bold choice.”

Emma bit her tongue.

Cole finally spoke. “She can order whatever she wants.”

Chloe’s smile faltered for a second before smoothing back into place. “Of course.”

The waiter left, and Chloe launched into a story about some gala they were attending next month. She talked about her dress, the guest list, the photographers on and on. Cole gave short, clipped replies.

Emma stayed mostly quiet, pushing the bread basket back and forth.

Then Chloe turned suddenly. “Emily, do you have a boyfriend?”

Emma blinked. “No.”

“Really?” Chloe’s eyes sparkled with fake surprise. “You’re pretty enough, you must have options.”

Emma shrugged. “I’m busy with work.”

“Work,” Chloe repeated, smirking. “Yes, I suppose Cole keeps you very busy.”

Emma felt her face heat, but before she could respond, Cole said flatly, “Enough, Chloe.”

Chloe laughed lightly and kissed his cheek. “Don’t be so serious. I’m only making conversation.”

The food came, and for a while, there was only the sound of plates clinking. Emma tried to focus on her pasta, but Chloe made it impossible, feeding Cole bites of her salad like it was a performance.

“Isn’t he handsome when he eats?” Chloe said suddenly.

Emma nearly choked on her food.

Cole set his fork down, his expression sharp. “Chloe.”

“What?” she said innocently. “I’m just appreciating my fiancé.”

The word fiancé landed heavy. Emma twisted her fork in the pasta, keeping her eyes down.

Chloe noticed, of course. She leaned closer across the table, her voice just loud enough for Emma. “You understand now, don’t you? He’s mine.”

Emma swallowed hard. “I never said otherwise.”

“Good.” Chloe leaned back with a smug smile. “Then we won’t have any problems.”

The rest of the meal blurred. Cole hardly spoke, Chloe talked endlessly, and Emma wanted to vanish.

When the check came, the waiter set it in front of Cole, but Chloe snatched it up. “Oh no, this one’s on me. Consider it a celebration.”

Cole frowned. “Celebration of what?”

“Of us,” she said brightly. “And of Emily joining us, of course.” Her eyes cut to Emma one last time, sharp as glass.

The office was too quiet. By seven, almost everyone had gone home. Emma looked around the empty cubicles, the glow of desk lamps gone, chairs pushed back. It made her feel like she shouldn’t still be here either.

She checked the time on her phone again, then reached for her bag. Maybe she could finish typing the last two reports at home.

Just as she was zipping it shut, Cole’s voice cut across the silence.
“I thought we were done,” Emma said carefully.

“We’re not,” Cole replied. He tapped the file against his desk, his tone clipped. “This has to be finalized tonight.”

She blinked. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

“No.” He moved closer, setting the file on the edge of her desk. “Sit.”

Emma hesitated, then set her bag down again. “I can work on it from home. I’ll log in”

“No,” Cole said, sharper this time. “It stays here.”

Her lips pressed together. “You don’t trust me?”

“It’s not about trust. It’s about control.” His eyes flicked over the open file. “And I don’t like work leaving the office.”

Emma pulled her chair back toward her desk with a small sigh. “Fine. Hand it over.”

Cole slid the file closer. “Review these numbers. They don’t line up with the report from finance.”

Emma took the file, flipping it open. “So basically, you want me to redo someone else’s mistake.”

“If you want to call it that,” Cole said. He walked around her desk and leaned slightly over her shoulder, pointing at a column on her screen. “Start here.”

Emma stiffened. He was too close, his arm brushing against the back of her chair. She tilted the monitor slightly, trying to make more space. “You don’t have to hover. I can figure it out.”

“You were already leaving,” he said flatly. “I can’t risk another mistake.”

Emma’s fingers tightened on the keyboard. “I didn’t make the mistake.”

Cole gave a short hum, almost like a laugh but not quite. “That remains to be seen.”

Emma bit back a sharp reply. Instead, she typed quickly, scanning the numbers. “The totals are off because they copied the wrong quarterly figure. Look, this line should be one point eight, not one point three.”

Cole leaned closer, reading the screen. His shoulder brushed against hers again. “Fix it.”

Emma did, her jaw tight. “There. Corrected. Anything else?”

“Yes.” Cole dropped another sheet on her desk. “Cross-check these with the shipping records.”

Emma groaned. “You’re serious?”

“Very.”

She shoved her chair back a little. “Do you keep people late like this every night, or is it just me?”

“Just you,” Cole said, completely straight-faced.

Emma’s head snapped toward him. “What?”

“You’re the only one capable of catching these errors.”

For a second, she wasn’t sure if he was complimenting her or accusing her. “That’s either flattering or insulting. I can’t tell.”

Cole’s lips twitched slightly, but he said nothing. He just pointed back at the screen. “Keep going.”

Emma muttered under her breath but turned back to the file.

Minutes passed in silence except for the sound of her typing and him flipping through papers. Every so often, he would point out something, and she’d correct it. Each time, he leaned in just close enough to make her nervous.

Finally, she spoke again. “Do you always breathe down people’s necks while they work?”

“Only when they get distracted.”

“I’m not distracted,” she said quickly.

“Then why are you typing the wrong number?”

Emma looked down. Sure enough, she had. She quickly fixed it. “Because you keep hovering,” she admitted.

This time, Cole actually let out a quiet breath that almost sounded like amusement. “Then work faster.”

Emma shook her head. “Unbelievable.”

They went quiet again, the room heavy with unspoken tension. Emma kept typing, her fingers moving faster now, like she could prove him wrong through speed alone.

Cole circled behind her again, dropping another file onto her desk. His hand brushed the back of her chair as he set it down. Emma froze for half a second before forcing herself to keep typing.

“You’re tense,” Cole said quietly.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly.

“You’re not,” he replied.

Emma turned just enough to meet his eyes. “Are you going to keep pointing out everything about me tonight?”

“If it slows you down, yes.”

Her lips parted, ready to snap back, but she caught herself. She exhaled instead. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Cole only said, “Finish the report.”