Chapter 854

Emily Blair’s eyes were cool and steady. “So you were the one who just walked past our table?”
Cynthia Rivera bit her lip. “Why? Am I not allowed? Do you own this place, or is that road in your name? Why can’t I walk wherever I want?”
“If I hadn’t walked by, I wouldn’t have even known you two were having dinner together!”
Emily watched as Cynthia’s tears began to fall, streaming down her face in fat drops. Her eyes were red, her expression wounded, as if Emily had just bullied her.
Sniffling, Cynthia wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, trying to look fierce even as her voice wobbled. “I’m not going to cry in front of you.”
Emily just stared.
You’re already crying.
As Cynthia’s tears and runny nose threatened to make a mess of her face, Emily turned and pulled a box of tissues off the wall, holding it out to her.
Cynthia slapped her hand away. “I don’t want it.”
Emily held the tissue out anyway, her tone calm. “At least clean yourself up. Your makeup’s a mess. How are you going to face Tristan like this?”
The mention of Tristan made Cynthia freeze. She looked up, glaring at Emily in disbelief. “Are you bragging or something?”
Emily blinked, baffled.
Where did that come from?
She gave up trying to reason with Cynthia and started to withdraw her hand, but Cynthia suddenly snatched the tissue box out of her grasp. Turning to the mirror, Cynthia dabbed at her eyes, still sniffling.
Emily crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, watching Cynthia’s reflection. Her big, tearful eyes reminded Emily of a startled rabbit—soft, vulnerable, and impossible to stay angry with.
Cynthia was undeniably beautiful: an oval face, delicate brows, porcelain skin, wide eyes, and full lips. Even when she acted spoiled or willful, people rarely blamed her, probably because she looked so innocent.
Emily wasn’t immune, either.
She could tell Cynthia was simple-hearted, a little impulsive, and used to being the center of the universe-not out of malice, but because she’d been pampered all her life.
The most dramatic thing Cynthia had probably ever done was cry like this and demand an explanation.
If things were different, Emily might have tried to be friends with her.
Cynthia came from privilege, wore her heart on her sleeve, and was clearly head over heels for Tristan. Honestly, she and Tristan did seem like a perfect match- childhood friends who understood each other inside and out.
Looking at Cynthia’s swollen, red eyes, Emily finally decided to offer some reassurance. “Tristan and I weren’t on a date.”
Cynthia finished wiping her face and looked up. “You expect me to believe that? You two were eating together, alone.”
Emily leaned back against the wall. “We really weren’t. He did me a favor, so I took him out for dinner. That’s it-it wasn’t a date.”
Cynthia hurled the used tissue into the trash. “Don’t lie. I saw what you ordered-it was the couples’ special! How’s that not a date?”
Emily didn’t understand why Cynthia was so desperate for her to admit she and Tristan were seeing each other. Maybe Cynthia just wanted to hear something— anything—that would put her mind at ease.
Emily swallowed her annoyance. “They were running a big discount on the couples’ special, so I ordered it. That’s all.”
Cynthia narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “You’re the CEO of a company. Do you really care about saving a few dollars?”
How was she supposed to explain that she’d grown up with nothing, and thriftiness was second nature?
Emily took a steadying breath. “If you don’t believe me, you can go ask Tristan yourself.”
To Emily’s surprise, Cynthia seemed almost panicked by the idea. She shook her head instantly, lips pressed in a stubborn line.
“No way.”
She looked miserable, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to see him.”
On the night their blind date ended, Tristan had actually called her a first.
At the time, Cynthia had been over the moon. She thought maybe, just maybe,
things were finally turning around. That Tristan might actually say yes to being with her.