Knots Between Us

Chapter Fifteen

Del Posto

The car rolled to a stop, its headlights cutting through the misty evening air. Emma stepped out, umbrella in hand, her breath catching as she took in the restaurant’s understated exterior—quiet confidence wrapped in glass and stone. Inside, however, the world changed. Warm light spilled across marble floors and murmured conversations floated between tables dressed in linen and candlelight. Sophisticated. Intimidating. Beautiful.

She approached the hostess stand, pulse quickened.

“Good evening,” the hostess greeted, poised and polite. “May I help you?”

“Yes, I’m here for the meeting with Rask and Acosta,” Emma said, her voice steadier than she felt.

“Of course. Right this way.”

As they wound through the room toward a private suite, Emma spotted Sebastian near the far wall, deep in conversation with a man she didn’t recognize—tall, silver hair, expensive charm. Her stomach flipped.

“Why didn’t you bring your signora?” the man asked in a heavy Italian accent. “What was the lovely lady’s name again?”

“Lanie,” Sebastian replied, his tone clipped. “We aren’t together anymore, Mario.”

Emma froze mid-step. Anymore. The single word hit harder than it should have.

“Here we are,” the hostess said, breaking her trance.

Sebastian turned then—and everything in him stilled. For a heartbeat, the room, the chatter, the storm outside—vanished. Emma stood framed in soft light, a vision in a black dress that moved like liquid silk, every curve, every breath composed yet quietly defiant.

He crossed the space before he realized he was moving. Without a word, his hand reached behind her, fingers finding the tie at the base of her neck. He tugged it loose. Her ponytail unraveled, auburn waves spilling over her shoulders.

“There,” he murmured, brushing away a strand that clung to her collarbone. The touch lingered a second too long.

Emma swallowed, breathing unsteady. “Thank you,” she managed.

Sebastian stepped back, his face shuttered, voice brisk. “Are you ready for this?”

She nodded, forcing a steady tone. “Yes, sir.”

He tilted his head slightly. “You sure? You look like there’s something else on your mind.”

“I…” Her lips parted before she could stop herself. “Why did you break up with Lanie?”

The air seemed to tighten. He stilled, eyes narrowing just slightly—enough for her to regret asking.

“Excuse me?” His voice was calm, dangerous.

“I just thought… if it’s because of what happened today, you shouldn’t take it so—”

“You think that’s why?” His voice dropped, almost to a whisper. He turned sharply toward the approaching footsteps. “Mr. Acosta,” he greeted smoothly, his entire demeanor shifting in an instant. Professional. Composed. Untouchable.

He glanced at Emma once—barely a flicker. “We’ll discuss this later.”

The meeting unfolded in a practiced rhythm—contracts, clauses, signatures, laughter over wine and candlelight. Emma’s focus was laser-sharp, every smile measured, every word deliberate. And yet, she felt his eyes on her. Always just long enough for her to notice.

Sebastian tried to listen, to focus on the numbers and projections, but she was everywhere—in the corner of his vision, in the way her fingers tapped lightly against her glass when she was deep in thought. She was calm under pressure, graceful even when cornered by questions, a quiet force amid the chaos.

And that unnerved him.

“Mr. Rask, you certainly know how to entertain,” Acosta said with a laugh. “Let’s hope your work is just as good.”

“It will be better,” Sebastian replied smoothly, pride flashing in his gray eyes.

Acosta rose, adjusting his jacket. “You’ve got a good team here, Rask. And she”—he gestured toward Emma—“is a keeper. Hold onto her tight.”

Emma’s breath caught, her gaze meeting Sebastian’s across the table. His eyes—storm gray, unreadable—held hers until she had to look away.

“I look forward to seeing you in Brazil, Ms. Rhodes,” Acosta added warmly, patting her hand.

Brazil? Her smile faltered for only a moment. “Of course. Looking forward to it,” she said smoothly, masking her shock.

When the clients finally left, leaving the A.S.R. team in the fading hum of laughter and wine, Sebastian’s tone turned brisk. “Dean, send me the draft by tonight. Everyone else—you know your tasks.”

A chorus of agreement followed.

“Good. You’re dismissed.”

Emma gathered her notes, ready to make a clean escape.

“Not you, Ms. Rhodes.”

The words stopped her cold.

The others filed out quickly, leaving the two of them alone.

Emma turned slowly, aware of how loud her pulse sounded in the quiet. Sebastian stood at the head of the table, loosening his cufflinks, his gaze fixed on her like a drawn blade.

“Sit.”

She obeyed, setting her folder down with care.

He didn’t look up from his laptop. “You had some questions earlier,” he said, his tone deceptively calm. “About my personal life.”

Her heart stumbled. “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t… cause any problems with Ms. Shelton,” she whispered.

He finally looked up, and the chill in his gaze was enough to make her wish she hadn’t spoken.

“And who are you to worry about that?”

“I just—”

“No one.”

The word cracked through the air. He rose, the chair scraping back as he advanced a step, every movement controlled, deliberate.

“The answer, Ms. Rhodes, is no one. I am your employer. Not your confidant, not your friend. Whatever you think this is—it ends now.”

His hand pressed flat against the wall beside her head, the motion smooth, unhurried, but heavy with authority.

Her pulse thundered. Fear, anger, confusion—all twisted together. “I’d be perfectly fine if you acted like a boss,” she shot back, her voice trembling but firm. “Instead of sending mixed signals every other day.”

That stopped him.

She stood from her chair, heat rising in her cheeks. “A boss doesn’t hire a personal stylist for his employee. Or save her from humiliation. Or—” She hesitated, breath shallow. “—try to kiss her.”

Lightning flashed, thunder cracking like punctuation.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

When he finally spoke, his voice was lower—dangerously quiet. “Maybe Lanie was right. I should have been more careful with a woman like you.”

Her expression hardened. “A woman like me?”

His gaze flicked over her face, his jaw tight. “The kind who knows exactly how to make a man forget what he’s doing.”

Emma’s breath caught, fury flashing through her hurt.

“Just so we’re clear,” he continued coldly. “You’re an employee. Nothing more. Everything else was a mistake I won’t repeat.”

The words sliced cleanly. She blinked rapidly, swallowing the lump forming in her throat.

“Yes, Mr. Rask,” she said quietly, gathering her things. “Thank you for making that so perfectly clear.”

She moved toward the exit, but his voice stopped her one last time.

“From now on,” he said without turning, “all assignments will come through Andrea. I want to avoid any confusion about… our interactions.”

Her hand froze on the doorknob. Then, softly, “There is no confusion, sir. Not anymore.”

And she left.

Sebastian exhaled—long, sharp, shaking. He pressed a hand against his temple, as if he could will away the image of her eyes, the tremor in her voice. His phone buzzed.

“Mr. Rask?” Andrea’s voice came through, hesitant. “Sorry to bother you. Is Emma still there? She’s not answering her phone.”

“She’s gone,” he said curtly. “I’m her boss, not her keeper.”

“Sir… the car’s delayed. The storm’s getting worse.”

He froze. His eyes flicked to the rain-lashed window.

Without another word, he grabbed his coat and strode out into the storm.