EMMA
I’m texting Amelia, the kids’ absurdly expensive part-time nanny, to see if she’s willing to stay later if she needs to when Ruslan walks out of his office.
“Ms. Carson.”
I put my phone down and stand. “Yes, sir.”
“Dinner. 8:30.”
Panicking slightly, I glance at the schedule on the side of my desk. “You don’t have anything scheduled. Do you need me to make a—”
He sighs. “I’m asking you out to dinner, Ms. Carson.”
“Oh.”
Oh!
He c***s one dark brow. “Are you free to join me or not?”
His tone suggests that he’s got plenty of other options if I turn him down. I twist my phone around and spy the text that I’ve just gotten from Amelia. That’s fine! It feels like my first real break today.
“Yes! Yes, I’m free.”
He nods. “Meet me downstairs in five minutes.”
The moment he disappear
