Chapter 69
Emily's POV
"Holy shit," Daniel breathed as we settled at a table with a clear view of the street. "I didn't know Stone was into that type."
"What type?" Daisy asked, frowning slightly.
"You know," Daniel gestured vaguely. "Bombshell. Red dress, high heels, the works. Never would have guessed."
"They seemed... familiar with each other," Daisy admitted reluctantly.
I stared intently at the menu, though I'd already decided on a turkey sandwich. "Can we order? I'm about to pass out from hunger."
Thomas kept glancing between me and the window. "Emily, aren't you curious who she is?"
"Nope," I replied, popping the 'p' sound. "Not my business."
"But—"
"Look, they're leaving," Daisy interrupted, pointing discreetly.
We all turned to see Michael helping the mystery woman into his car, the rose tucked carefully in his hand.
"Damn, missed our chance for a closer look," Daniel sighed.
"Not exactly," Thomas said smugly, pulling out his phone. "I got photographic evidence."
"Let me see!" Daisy grabbed the phone from him, then her eyes lit up mischievously. "We should ask him directly in the group chat."
"Don't you dare," Thomas yelped. "He'll kill me!"
But Daisy was already typing. "Too late!"
"At least don't use my name!" Thomas pleaded.
"Fine," Daisy agreed, tapping furiously.
"And... sent!" Daisy announced triumphantly, sliding the phone back to Thomas. At the same time, she gave me a meaningful look.
I didn't pay too much attention to it, burying my face in my hands. "Can we please just eat now? I'm seriously about to die from hunger."
"Lunch is on me," Daisy declared. "Deluxe nachos for everyone!"
---
Michael's POV
"Your cousin is something else," I commented as I pulled away from the curb, glancing at Freya in the passenger seat. I was fighting to keep a straight face. Her outfit was completely over-the-top—a bright red dress, enormous sunglasses, and those impossibly high heels.
"Is my disguise too much?" Freya asked, flipping down the visor mirror to check her makeup.
"Aunt Martha said I should go for dramatic."
I nearly choked. Mom was in on this ridiculous plan? "It's... noticeable," was the most diplomatic response I could muster.
Freya beamed, clearly taking my words as a compliment. "Perfect! That's exactly what we want. For my plan to work, I need to look completely different from my usual self."
"And this plan is...?" I asked, though I already had a bad feeling about it.
"We're going to have lunch at Giovanni's—the window table," Freya explained, her voice nearly as high-pitched as the cartoon characters she voiced. "My ex works nearby. You'll walk in holding this rose, acting all romantic. He'll see us, realize what he's missing, and bam! He'll want me back."
I furrowed my brow, trying to understand this absurd logic. "Let me get this straight. You asked me to leave work so I could pretend to date you, just to make your ex jealous? And then you're going to dump me for him?" This had to be the most ridiculous reconciliation plan I'd ever heard.
"Exactly!" Freya nodded enthusiastically, as if this was the most reasonable thing in the world. "I need to save face. I can't be the one who got dumped."
"Freya, this is ridiculous," I couldn't help but say. I couldn't believe I'd left work for this teenage drama.
"Says the man who's hopelessly pining," Freya immediately shot back, her tone carrying a hint of victorious smugness. "At least I'm taking action."
I was about to respond when my phone buzzed. I glanced at it at the next stoplight and saw a notification from the department group chat. The sender showed as "Emily" with a photo of Freya and me outside the station, captioned: "Stone, care to introduce your friend?"
For a brief moment, my heart skipped. Was Emily jealous? But the thought was fleeting. Knowing Thomas and his love for gossip, this had his fingerprints all over it. Disappointment washed over me.
"If you're worried she'll misunderstand, you could just explain things to her," Freya suggested.
"Just hurry up with your plan. I need to get back to work after this," I said impatiently.
Freya sighed dramatically. "Fine, but you have to follow through. Bring the rose, look at me adoringly—"
"I have a facial expression disorder, remember?" I reminded her dryly. Sometimes my facial limitation was a convenient excuse.
"Then just... lean in close like you're whispering sweet nothings." Freya patted my arm, seeming to console me. "You're helping out your favorite cousin."
I couldn't help but grimace.
Emily clearly didn't care about my personal life, yet here I was helping my cousin with a ridiculous scheme to win back her ex-boyfriend. Today was turning out to be a spectacularly bad day.
---
When I returned to the station, I immediately scanned the entire office. Emily and Thomas were hunched over files on her desk, deeply engaged in discussing case details. She didn't even look up when I entered, just continued sipping her coffee and pointing at something in the file.
Not a hint of curiosity, not a trace of jealousy. No reaction whatsoever.
She really didn't care. This realization sent a fresh wave of disappointment through my chest, stronger than I cared to admit.
Before I could dwell on it further, Daniel approached, deliberately sniffing the air around me.
"Is that perfume?" he asked, with that knowing expression that made me want to immediately assign him the most tedious paperwork in the archives.
I stiffened. "It's from the rose," I answered briefly, hoping to end the topic.
"Uh-huh," Daniel persisted, wearing a punchable smile. "Must have been some rose. Who was the lucky lady?"
I gave him a cold stare, knowing it would be effective. "Don't you have quarterly performance evaluations coming up?"
The threat worked. Daniel's smile vanished instantly. "Just making conversation, Michael."
"Make it elsewhere." My tone left no room for discussion.
From the corner of my eye, I could see Thomas listening intently, nudging Emily to get her attention, but she seemed completely absorbed in the case, indifferent to everything happening around her.
"You might want to be careful," I quietly added to Daniel, ensuring my voice carried enough threat. "Those evaluations impact pay raises."
The comment worked. Daniel retreated quickly to his desk, suddenly fascinated by his computer screen.
I walked directly to Emily's desk, stopping just in front of her. I had to confirm—did she truly not care at all?
"Don't you have anything to ask me?" I asked directly, struggling to keep my tone even despite the turmoil within.
Emily finally looked up at me, genuine confusion in her eyes. "About the case?"
She didn't even know what I was talking about. I forced myself to continue. "About the group chat. The photo."
"Oh," she shrugged, without a trace of the emotional reaction I'd hoped to see. "That wasn't me."
Then she immediately returned to work mode.
I felt my jaw tighten almost imperceptibly. Not even a hint of curiosity about who the woman was or what our relationship might be. Not even a casual inquiry or joke.
I forced myself to turn to Thomas, redirecting my attention to mask my disappointment. "Brief me on the recent case summary."