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Emma floated down the hotel corridor.
Her feet barely registered the carpet beneath her.
She was clutching the heavy leather bound copy of 'The Owen Threshold' to her chest, her other arm wrapped securely around the massive, beautiful bouquet of peonies.
Her heart was beating a frantic, joyful rhythm against her ribs.
She reached her room, fumbled with her keycard with a shaking hand, and pushed the door open.
"Okay, but if he really wanted to make an entrance, he should have-" Asha's voice cut off instantly.
Emma froze in the doorway.
Sitting cross-legged on her hotel bed were Asha, Yali, and Carla.
They had clearly commandeered her room for a strategy meeting, surrounded by half-empty bags of crisps and script pages.
All three pairs of eyes snapped to Emma. The room went dead silent.
Asha's gaze moved from Emma's flushed face, down to the giant bouquet of flowers, down to the gold-embossed crimson book, and finally back up to Emma's mouth.
"Your lip gloss is gone," Asha whispered, her eyes widening to the size of dinner plates.
"Oh my god," Yali gasped.
"She has flowers!" Carla shrieked, leaping off the bed. "She has the UNICEF book! Her lip gloss is gone!"
Instantly, absolute chaos erupted.
The three girls scrambled off the bed and rushed Emma, jumping up and down and pulling her into the room.
They slammed the door shut and practically dragged her to the sofa.
"Tell us everything!" Asha demanded, grabbing Emma by the shoulders and shaking her lightly. "Do not skip a single detail! What happened?! What did he say?!"
Emma collapsed onto the sofa, placing the book and flowers carefully on the coffee table.
She couldn't help it; the massive, dopey smile she had been fighting back completely took over her face.
Her cheeks were burning hot.
"It was... guys, it was literally perfect," Emma gushed, burying her face in her hands for a second before looking up at her friends. "He is so sweet. And he's so incredibly funny. We just sat there and talked for hours, and it felt like we've known each other for years. We were just completely in sync. We like the same games, we make the same terrible jokes... he's just... he's amazing."
"I knew it!" Yali cheered, clapping her hands together. "Underneath the scary author vibe, he's a total softie for you! Look at this book! He had your name engraved on the spine!"
"Okay, skip the literary review," Asha interrupted, leaning in with a sly, predatory grin. "We noticed the lip gloss, Myers. How many times did you kiss him?"
Emma's face went from flush pink to a brilliant, violent shade of tomato red. She threw both hands over her face, shaking her head.
"Emma!" Carla whined, poking her arm. "How many?!"
From behind her hands, a tiny, muffled voice squeaked out: "Three times."
The room absolutely exploded.
Asha screamed, Yali fell backward onto the bed kicking her feet in the air, and Carla started doing a victory lap around the coffee table.
They ruthlessly and mercilessly teased her, chanting "Emma and Michael sitting in a tree" until Emma had to throw a decorative pillow at Asha's head to make it stop.
"Okay, okay, calm down," Carla laughed, flopping back down onto the bed and picking up her phone. "Let me just check the group chat to see what time we have to be on set tomorrow before I—"
Carla stopped. The laughter instantly died in her throat.
"Shit," Carla breathed out.
The mood in the room shifted entirely.
Asha and Yali sat up, looking confused.
"What? Did the schedule change?" Asha asked.
"No," Carla said, her voice tight. She looked up at Emma, her expression suddenly very serious.
She turned her phone screen around. "Look at this."
Emma leaned forward, her heart dropping into her stomach.
It was an X post from a massive celebrity gossip account.
SPOTTED: Emma Myers on a very cozy, very secret dinner date with world renowned author Michael Owen. #NewCoupleAlert
Right below the text was a crystal-clear photo of her and Michael sitting in the Italian bistro.
They were leaning across the table, smiling at each other with undeniable, intense affection.
Everyone in the room was shocked into silence.
"How?" Emma asked, her voice cracking, completely tensed. She stared at the screen, panic flooding her system. "We went to a tiny village! There was nobody there! How did someone take this?!"
"Emma, breathe," Asha said quickly, rushing over to sit next to her. "It's fine. It's just a paparazzi photo, or a fan with a good zoom lens. It happens to all of us. It's no big deal."
Yali and Carla nodded vigorously in agreement. "Asha's right. It's just internet noise. It will blow over."
"You don't understand!" Emma said, her face distressed, her hands trembling slightly as she stood up and paced the room.
"Obviously, it's not a big deal for me! I don't care if people know! But what will he think?! He is so private! What if he thinks I called the paparazzi on purpose for a PR stunt? What if he's angry at me?!"
"Emma, stop," Carla said firmly, grabbing her hand.
"Michael is not going to be angry at you. Think about it. Has he been anything but incredibly kind and understanding since you met him? He literally bought you his custom-engraved literature and flowers. He's not going to blame you."
Just as Emma opened her mouth to argue, her phone, resting on the coffee table next to the book, began to vibrate.
The screen lit up with the caller ID: Michael 🤍