Chapter 6
1042 Words
The car pulled up in front of an elegant restaurant, all glass and stone and quiet confidence. Valets moved with practiced precision, and the entrance alone radiated exclusivity. Before Emily could fully take it in, Brody stepped out first, circling the car and holding out his hand for her.
She hesitated only a moment before placing her hand in his.
As she stood, her eyes swept over the building, widening. “Brody…” she murmured, awe and uncertainty mixing in her voice.
He said nothing, simply guiding her inside.
The interior was even more breathtaking—soft lighting, crisp white linens, low murmurs of conversation, and the subtle clink of fine china. Emily felt suddenly underdressed, hyperaware of every step she took.
The host smiled warmly. “Good morning, Mr. Thornton. Your table is ready.”
Emily’s steps faltered.
Mr. Thornton.
The name echoed in her mind as realization crashed over her all at once. Her breath caught, her grip tightening instinctively around her purse as they were led toward a secluded table near the window.
Brody pulled out her chair, waiting until she sat before taking his own seat across from her. The moment he settled, Emily looked up at him, her expression unreadable.
“Are you Brody Thornton,” she asked carefully, “as in Thornton Corporation?”
For the first time since she’d met him, his smile faltered—just slightly.
“You caught that,” he said quietly. Then, after a beat, “Yes. To answer your question… yes.” He searched her face. “Does that change anything?”
Emily inhaled slowly, choosing her words. “Mr. Thornton—yes. It does. Because I work for you. And I didn’t know who you were. I wouldn’t have behaved so freely… my friends wouldn’t have either.”
Brody leaned forward. “Emily—”
She continued, her voice steady but hesitant. “Had I known, I would have kept things professional.”
“I had fun,” Brody interrupted firmly. “And there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. Please don’t change now just because you know who I am.”
She looked down, fingers curling lightly against the tablecloth. “Mr. Thornton—”
“Brody,” he corrected gently.
She lifted her gaze again. “Brody… I’m sorry. And since we’re already here, I’ll have breakfast with you. But after this, I need to keep things professional.”
The words landed harder than she intended.
Brody nodded once, masking the sting behind the composure. “Very well,” he said calmly. “If that is what you wish.”
But inside, he was anything but finished.
As the server approached to take their order, Brody watched Emily closely—the way she sat straighter now, the careful distance she placed between them. And instead of discouraging him, it only deepened his resolve.
She wasn’t impressed by the restaurant.
She wasn’t dazzled by his name.
She wasn’t chasing his money.
That alone made her extraordinary.
Brody smiled faintly to himself.
If Emily believed this was the end of something, she was wrong.
It was only the beginning.
And he was determined—patiently, deliberately—to show her that choosing him had nothing to do with wealth…
…and everything to do with how happy he could make her, if she would only let him.
The server returned with menus, breaking the tension just enough for Emily to breathe again. She picked one up, though she barely looked at it.
“I usually don’t come to places like this,” she said quietly, eyes still on the page. “I didn’t even know this restaurant existed.”
Brody folded his hands on the table. “Most people don’t.”
She glanced up at him briefly, then back down. “That figures.”
A faint smile tugged at his mouth, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he let the silence settle—uncomfortable, but honest.
After a moment, he asked, “What do you usually do on Saturday mornings?”
The question caught her off guard. It wasn’t about work. It wasn’t about money.
“Sleep in,” she admitted. “Regret my choices from the night before.” A pause. “Then coffee. Somewhere familiar.”
“That sounds nice,” he said.
“It is,” she replied. “Simple.”
Their eyes met again, and this time neither of them looked away too quickly.
When the server returned, they ordered—Emily choosing something modest, Brody mirroring her choice without hesitation. It didn’t go unnoticed.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said softly.
“I wanted to,” he replied. “I don’t need more than you’re having.”
Her lips curved faintly, though uncertainty lingered in her gaze.
As they waited, she folded her napkin carefully. “I meant what I said earlier,” she added. “About keeping things professional.”
“I know,” Brody said. “And I respect that.”
She searched his face, as if testing the truth of it.
“But,” he continued gently, “that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy breakfast with you.”
She exhaled, some of the tension easing from her shoulders. “Okay,” she said. “Breakfast, then.”
“Just breakfast.”
Their food arrived, steam curling upward between them like a fragile truce. For a few minutes, they ate in silence—comfortable, not awkward.
Finally, Emily spoke again. “You don’t act the way I expected.”
Brody raised an eyebrow. “Is that a complaint?”
“No,” she said quickly. “Just… an observation.”
“Good,” he replied. “I’d hate to disappoint you this early.”
She smiled despite herself.
They shared a quiet laugh—soft, restrained, but real.
And though Emily kept reminding herself of boundaries and titles and reality, she couldn’t ignore the way her heartbeat just a little faster every time Brody looked at her like she mattered.
Not as an employee.
Not as a complication.
But as Emily.
The breakfast continued—measured, careful, charged with everything they weren’t ready to confront yet.
And neither of them knew how long the restraint would last.
- Writer
