“I’ve come here,” said Eleanor, “to get away from the Ivory Tower. How about you?”
“Yes, I guess I have, too.”
Ming observed her own emotions. The incident at the carriage house wasn’t Eleanor’s fault, and yet seeing her brought back the memory. She was guilty, thought Ming, of being involved–to whatever degree–with Emmett, but who am I to judge her? Ming was quiet while she acknowledged the surge of these feelings, waiting patiently for them to recede. It all boiled down to fear, didn’t it? Fear that someone who had power over her success would abuse it. If she was vulnerable, then Eleanor must be, too.
“I know where we can get an amazing croissant if you’ll let me treat you,” said Eleanor. “I’d like a chance to talk.”
Her own defective character piqued Eleanor’s interest in Ming, who
