Amelia's POV
"You've been acting suspicious, you know that?" I asked.
Emily looked up from her phone and took the cup of coffee I offered.
"Whatever do you mean?" she asked with a faint smile.
I sat beside her, narrowing my eyes. "You are…"
I gestured at her face, searching for the right word.
"Glowing."
Her eyes widened in mild surprise. Her brown hair, usually tied in a bun, flowed down her shoulders.
There was a mischievous glint in her eyes.
She took a sip of her coffee, gaze darting away.
"Emily…"
Her lips parted in a smile. "I'm seeing someone."
I gripped my mug tighter. "I see."
She sighed. "What?"
I shook my head and sipped my coffee. "Nothing."
"Spill it out."
I met her gaze. "Remember Sam? The last guy you were seeing?"
I paused. "And Greg, the one before that?"
Emily was a smart woman. Unfortunately, she didn't apply much of that intelligence to the men she dated.
I always had to pick up the pieces when she got her heart broken.
"This one's different, Amelia. I can feel it," she said.
I walked towards the kitchen and poured the rest of my coffee down the drain.
"Of course, he is."
I grabbed a couple of eggs and reached for a pan.
"How did you two meet?" I asked.
She walked over to the counter, smiling.
"He walked into the café—it was a slow day—and asked me out on a date," she said.
I raised a brow. "And you said yes…just like that?"
"Honey," she tsked. "You don't say no to a man like that."
I paused, arms hovering over the whisked eggs.
"What's his name?" I asked. "What does he do for work?"
My phone buzzed loudly on the counter, cutting her off.
I reached for it, a smile appearing on my face when I saw the caller ID.
"Hey, you," I said, smiling despite myself.
Emily rolled her eyes playfully, pushing me aside to fry the eggs.
"How's my baby this morning?" Brian asked.
"I'm fine."
I stole a glance at Emily, making sure she didn't burn the eggs. "Sorry I couldn't make it to dinner yesterday."
"I was caught up at work."
I fisted my palm, remembering how Mr. Cane had kept me busy with work till almost midnight.
"It's okay. We can always reschedule," Brian said.
"Thanks, honey."
A slight pause. "Is Emily there with you?"
I glanced at Emily. She was struggling with the pan.
"Yes, why?"
"Could you give her the phone, please?"
I raised a brow. "Sure."
"Ow, ow, ow," Emily yelped as she placed the hot pan on the counter.
The eggs were half burnt.
I sighed. "Here. Brian wants to talk to you."
She shot me a worried look before taking the phone.
I placed the burnt eggs in the sink and turned on the tap.
A splatter of oil splashed on my arm. I hissed, the pain shooting up my arm.
"Shit."
I placed my arm under the sink, a red blotch forming as the water gushed on my arm. I should never have let her near the damn stove.
I shot a glance at her; she was talking in hushed tones. I frowned, wondering what they were up to this time.
I walked to my room to get the bandages. A wooden starfish on my bedside table made me pause. I grabbed it, my fingers hovering over the hard surface.
The moment I touched it, the air in the room felt thinner.
The memory of a young boy flashed through my mind. The fear in his eyes as he hugged me tight.
The way his body trembled when we heard footsteps coming closer. His grey eyes brimming with tears as he looked at me.
I pulled down my sleeve, staring at the scar on my shoulder. A sharp tingle shot down my spine.
The wooden starfish fell from my hand as my heartbeat quickened. My vision grew blurry; I gasped loudly, desperate for air.
I keeled over, knocking over a lamp. Emily rushed in, eyes wide in concern.
"Amelia!"
She ran to me, clutching me in her arms.
"Breathe, Ames. Breathe."
She inhaled deeply. I followed her movement, taking in a deep breath.
My heart thundered, slamming into my ribs.
"It's okay. I'm here. You're safe, Ames," she whispered gently, rocking me in her arms.
Her soft heartbeat rang in my ears as she pulled me closer, easing mine. And soon, I could breathe.
"I-I'm fine," I said.
Her eyes searched mine as she helped me up.
"Are you sure?"
I nodded.
"Yeah, I just felt a bit lightheaded," I said.
It was more than that, but I didn't want her to worry.
She picked up the wooden starfish. I grabbed it from her immediately and locked it away.
She wore a sad smile. "Sorry, I was just trying to help."
I sighed. "I know, I know."
She bit her lip gently. "Are you ever gonna talk about it?"
I forced a smile. "Not today."
She nodded. "Well, I'm starving."
She locked her arms with mine and walked back to the kitchen. I stared at the burned eggs in the sink and shot her a look.
"If only someone didn't ruin breakfast…"
"Forget that."
She reached for her phone. "I'm taking you out to brunch."
I stared at her. "What's the occasion?"
She failed to meet my eyes. "Can't I take my best friend out for brunch?"
She was hiding something.
My phone rang. I grabbed it off the counter and regretted it almost immediately.
"Who's it?" Emily asked.
I stared at the caller ID. Adrian Cane. "The devil."
Confusion flashed in her eyes. "What are you talking about?"
I dropped the phone, ignoring the call and turning to face her.
"Brunch it is," I said.
A loud buzz made me pause. I glanced at my phone.
There is a problem with the Carlton project, I've sent a car to pick you up, the text read.
A surge of anger flooded me as I read his text. I dialed a number.
A soft click. "Miss White."
"It's Sunday," I snapped.
"And?"
I held the bridge of my nose, taking in soft breaths.
"It's my day off," I said through gritted teeth.
"You work for me, Miss White. There is no day off," he said.
"I do not—"
"Patience is not one of my better qualities, Amelia."
"Mr. Cane—"
"Five minutes. Car's waiting."
A soft dial tone. I stared at the blank screen in shock.
"What's wrong?" Emily asked.
"Son of a fucking—"