Chapter 4
She shrugged.
“I have oatmeal at home.”
Adrian knew immediately she was lying.
Not because she was bad at it.
Because he had spent his entire professional life sitting across tables from people who lied beautifully.
“You don’t have oatmeal.”
Her eyebrows rose.
“That’s a strange thing to say.”
“You hesitated.”
“Maybe I was deciding whether you were rude.”
“You bought that for yourself.”
“Yes.”
“And now you’re giving it away.”
“You need it more.”
Adrian stared at her.
Nobody had ever said those words to him.
You need it more.
He almost laughed at the absurdity.
Adrian Mercer.
Chief executive of Mercer Global.
Estimated personal fortune: $1.8 billion.
And a woman wearing a coat with a broken zipper believed he needed her dinner more than she did.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Emily.”
“Emily what?”
“Carter.”
She nodded toward the bag.
“Eat before it gets cold.”
Adrian accepted it slowly.
“Thank you.”
Emily started walking away.
“Wait.”
She turned.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you give it to me?”
Emily looked genuinely confused.
“Because you were hungry.”
“That’s it?”
“What other reason would I need?”
Adrian had no answer.
She disappeared around the corner.
He remained beneath the awning for several seconds.
Then he opened the bag.
The soup was still hot.
He ate slowly at first.
Then faster.
By the time he finished the sandwich, his hands were trembling for a different reason.
He thought about Vanessa.
His father.
Board members.
Politicians.
Investors.
People who had sent him Christmas gifts worth thousands of dollars.
People who laughed louder when he made jokes.
People who remembered his birthday because assistants reminded them.
And then he thought about Emily Carter.
She had believed he had nothing.
And she had given him what might have been the only hot meal she could afford.
For the first time since leaving the wedding, Adrian knew exactly what he needed to do.
But first, he needed to find her.
The next morning, he returned to the diner.
Emily was behind the counter.
She wore a waitress uniform.
When she saw him, recognition crossed her face.
“You survived.”
“Because of you.”
“You’re dramatic.”
“I’ve been accused of worse.”
She poured coffee for a customer.
Adrian glanced at the name tag pinned to her uniform.
EMILY.
“You work here?”
“Six days a week.”
“And the seventh?”
“Luxury yacht.”
He blinked.
Emily laughed.
“Kidding. I clean offices on Sundays.”