The Emperor Heir

Chapter 6: Not Good Enough

Sophia tried not to think about Adrian's hand holding hers. She failed. Hours after he'd left the café, she could still feel the warmth of his fingers and the way he'd looked at her — like there was nowhere else he wanted to be.

That was becoming a problem. Not because he'd done anything wrong. That was exactly the problem. He was kind. He listened. He remembered small things she said without seeming to try. He never once made her feel embarrassed about the life she lived. And lately she'd caught herself waiting for him before she'd even realized she was doing it.

She didn't want to fall for him. She knew better than that. He belonged to a world of business meetings and family estates; she belonged behind a counter, counting every dollar before she spent it. Eventually, the difference would matter. She just wished her heart understood that as clearly as her mind did.

The door opened, and there he was.

"You're early," she said.

"So are you."

"I work here."

"And I like seeing you."

She looked down at the counter. "You say things like that too easily."

"Because they're true." He leaned against the counter. "You look tired."

"I am."

"Didn't sleep?"

"Not much."

"Why?"

"You ask too many questions."

"Only about you." She tried not to smile. It didn't work.

"Come with me," he said. "Lunch."

"I can't."

"You haven't even asked when."

"Still can't."

"Busy?"

"Yes." He glanced around the nearly empty café. "Very busy," she added, and he laughed.

"I'll wait."

"You don't have to."

"I know."

"You really enjoy saying that."

"Maybe."

He waited at the window table for an hour without complaint, and when she finally finished, he stood. "Now?"

She checked the clock. "Now."

He opened the passenger door for her, same as always. "You know you don't have to do that every time," she said.

"I know." She laughed and got in anyway.

The restaurant he picked was quiet, the kind of quiet that came with a certain price tag, and she stopped at the entrance and looked through the window at it.

"Adrian, I can't afford this."

"You don't have to."

"I mean it."

"So do I."

"I don't want you paying for everything."

"Then don't think of it that way."

"What should I think of it?"

"A man taking a woman he likes to lunch."

That landed somewhere she wasn't ready for. "You're very direct," she said, looking away.

"I don't like wasting time."

Inside, she studied the menu and did the math on it despite herself.

"You're thinking too much," he said.

"I'm thinking about the price of one meal."

"Don't. Today you're not worrying about money."

"And tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow you can worry again." She laughed at that, and he added, quieter, "I just don't want you carrying it every second we're together." She closed the menu.

"Okay."

They talked through lunch about nothing important — she told him about the time she nearly burned down the kitchen learning to make cinnamon rolls; he told her about an entire afternoon he'd spent nodding through a business meeting he hadn't understood a word of. She laughed hard enough to nearly knock over her drink.

"You? The perfect Emperor heir, faking his way through a meeting?"

"Who told you I'm perfect?"

"Everyone."

"Everyone's wrong. I have plenty of flaws — I'm stubborn, I work too much, and I don't give up easily."

"Is that a warning?"

"No." He held her eyes. "It's a promise."

She didn't have an answer for that, so she looked down at her plate and let the rest of lunch pass without asking what he meant.

He walked her back to the café door. "Thank you," she said. "For lunch."

"You're welcome." A pause. "Adrian — why are you doing this? Spending so much time with me?"

His expression turned serious. "Because I enjoy being around you."

"But why?"

"Do I need a reason?"

"I think you do."

"Maybe I don't have one yet."

It surprised her, how much that answer settled her instead of unsettling her. He wasn't performing feelings he didn't have or making promises he couldn't back up. He was just admitting he liked being near her — and somehow that felt more honest than anything more polished would have.

"Okay," she said quietly.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"You're coming tomorrow too?"

"Definitely." He turned toward his car, and she stood there smiling long after he'd driven off, not noticing she was still doing it.

That night, Adrian sat through meetings and documents and business talk that should have held his full attention. It didn't. His mind kept drifting back to a woman who laughed too easily, worried about money out loud, and refused to let him buy her a meal without an argument first. She wasn't impressed by his wealth. She didn't care about his surname. For the first time in his life, he found himself wondering what it might be like to be wanted for nothing but himself.

Sophia, meanwhile, stood in the closed café looking at the empty tables and admitted to herself what she'd been avoiding: she was getting too comfortable with him. He wasn't just a familiar face anymore. He was becoming part of her day — part of the reason she smiled, part of what she looked forward to. And she knew exactly how these stories usually ended when someone from his world wandered into someone's life like hers. Reality had a way of showing up eventually. She just didn't know how soon.

The next morning he came in carrying two coffees and set one down in front of her.

"You brought coffee?"

"Your favorite."

"You remembered?"

"I remember everything you tell me." Her heart did something soft and unhelpful at that. She wrapped her hands around the cup.

"Thank you."

His expression shifted, more careful now. "Sophia. There's something I want to ask you."

"What?"

"Let me take you somewhere this weekend."

"Where?"

"I'll tell you when you say yes."

"You're impossible."

"Is that a yes?"

She knew the sensible answer. She knew their worlds didn't fit together, knew she was getting attached to a man who lived a life she could barely picture. But looking at him, no came out a lot harder than it should have.

"Yes," she said.

He smiled. "Good."

Neither of them knew yet that this weekend would be the first time Sophia stepped fully into Adrian's world — and that once she did, she'd understand exactly how far apart their two lives really were.