The Emma Series

EMMA

Friday has finally arrived.

I'm so nervous that I can hardly stomach my breakfast, but I force myself to eat, knowing that an empty stomach will only make my nerves worse.

At five o’clock, I start getting ready. I take a shower, dry my hair, and add a few curls with the curling iron. It looks pretty cascading down my back. I apply a touch of makeup.

I slip into the red dress. It's got thin straps and it stops just above my knee. I realize that underwear will show lines, so I make the daring choice to go without.

I complete my look with black stilettos. My cleavage is visible, but not overly so. I grab the contract and head to the living room.

Travis is already there. He's been staying with Carly since Wednesday. I suspect it's partly to keep an eye on me, but who can say for sure?

We leave at eight and head to the club. It's the first time I notice the massive apartment building next to it.

Travis walks with me and informs security that we're headed to the penthouse. He calls someone who gives him a code for the elevator. The ride up is silent.

He knows I'm still mad about what happened on Wednesday, but I know it'll pass. He's actually a good guy. He makes Carly and me laugh a lot.

When we reach the top, the elevator doors open, but Diablo isn't there.

Travis says goodnight and leaves.

I venture further into the penthouse and spot a bottle of champagne on the table with a note that simply reads, “Help yourself, running a bit late, will be with you ASAP. D.”

It seems he's taken to my nickname, and I can't help but smile.

I fill my glass with champagne and down it quickly. I pour another and move to stand by the large window, taking in the view. It's breathtaking.

I'm so lost in thought that I don't hear Diablo approach from behind. I sense him more than hear him. It seems I'm already attuned to his presence. As he gets closer, I turn to face him.

He's dressed in a black suit, a black tie, and a green shirt. He must know what green does to his eyes. His five o’clock shadow highlights his strong jawline.

Damn, I am so screwed.

I finish my second glass of champagne as he saunters over to me, his gaze roaming over me.

“You look stunning, baby love. You are glowing.”

He refills my glass and pours himself a whiskey, adding a single ice cube. It's funny the small things I notice.

He hands me my glass and simply says, “To us,” clinking his glass against mine.