Chapter 2 - The Kiss That Went Viral
Emily woke the next morning to 117 missed notifications.
She stared at her phone.
“No.”
She opened one video.
Three million views.
Another had six million.
The caption made her groan.
CHICAGO’S MOST FEARED MAN SHUTS DOWN BODY-SHAMING EX WITH ONE KISS.
“Wonderful.”
Her bedroom door opened.
Her mother, Diane, appeared holding her phone.
“Emily?”
“Please don’t.”
Diane slowly smiled.
“That man is handsome.”
“Mom.”
“And tattooed.”
“Mom!”
“I’m sick, not blind.”
Emily threw a pillow over her face.
The doorbell rang.
She sat up.
“Are you expecting someone?”
“No.”
Emily went downstairs.
Through the window, she saw a black sedan.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
She opened the door.
Vincent stood outside holding two coffees.
Emily stared.
“You know where I live?”
“You put your address on the restaurant employee emergency form.”
“That explanation somehow makes this worse.”
He offered her a coffee.
She hesitated.
“Caramel latte.”
Emily looked at him.
“How do you know my order?”
“You drink one during your break.”
“You noticed?”
“Yes.”
She accepted it.
Diane appeared behind her.
“Oh.”
Emily closed her eyes.
“Mom, please.”
Vincent immediately became formal.
“Mrs. Carter.”
“Diane.”
“Vincent.”
“I know.”
Emily turned.
“Everybody knows, Mom.”
Diane ignored her.
“You’re the gentleman from the video.”
Vincent glanced at Emily.
“That depends on your definition of gentleman.”
Diane smiled.
“I like him.”
“Mom.”
“I’m going upstairs.”
“You were already upstairs.”
“And now I’m going there again.”
She disappeared.
Emily faced Vincent.
“Why are you here?”
“Your manager called.”
Her stomach tightened.
“I’m fired?”
“No.”
“Suspended?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“The restaurant has reservations booked for three weeks because people want to see you.”
Emily stared.
“You’re joking.”
“I don’t joke often.”
“That’s horrible.”
“I agree.”
Her phone rang.
Tyler.
She declined it.
It immediately rang again.
Vincent saw the name.
“Persistent.”
“He’s embarrassed.”
“Good.”
Emily almost laughed.
Almost.
“What do you want, Vincent?”
“To explain.”
“Finally.”
He looked toward the sedan.
“Would you have breakfast with me?”
She raised an eyebrow.
“In public?”
“If you prefer.”
“And if I say no?”
“I leave.”
That answer mattered.
Emily grabbed her coat.
“Twenty minutes.”
Breakfast became forty.
Then an hour.
Vincent didn’t take her somewhere expensive.
He chose a quiet neighborhood café.
Emily studied him over pancakes.
“So explain.”
Vincent set down his coffee.
“Eleven months ago, you spilled coffee on me.”
Emily nearly choked.
“That’s your romantic opening?”
“You remember?”
“I thought you were going to have me killed.”
“I remember.”
“You stared at me for thirty seconds.”
“I was deciding whether I liked the tie.”
Emily laughed despite herself.
Vincent’s eyes softened.
“There.”
“What?”
“That.”
“What?”
“The laugh.”
She became quiet.
Vincent continued.
“You were terrified. Then you looked at my tie and said, ‘Honestly, the coffee improved it.’”
Emily covered her face.
“I said that?”
“Yes.”
“I’m amazed I survived.”
“So was my security team.”
She laughed again.
Vincent watched her.
Emily lowered her hands.
“That still doesn’t explain eleven months.”
“I started coming back.”
“For coffee?”
“No.”
The word landed softly.
“For me?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Vincent looked out the window.
“Because men like me don’t casually enter someone’s life.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means my name has consequences.”
Emily leaned back.
“So you watched me instead?”
“I drank terrible restaurant coffee twice a week.”
“Our coffee is terrible.”
“Extremely.”
She smiled.
Then the smile faded.
“Why last night?”
“Because he was hurting you.”
“I could handle Tyler.”
“I know.”
“Then why interfere?”
Vincent’s jaw tightened.
“Because hearing him describe you as though your value depended on his approval made me angry.”
Emily looked down.
“You don’t know what he was like.”
“No.”
“He spent years telling me I should be grateful.”
Vincent said nothing.
“He controlled what I ate. What I wore. Who I saw.”
Vincent’s expression changed.
Emily immediately noticed.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Do anything to him.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“You had the face.”
“What face?”
“The mafia face.”
For the first time, Vincent laughed.
Emily stared.
“That’s actually terrifying.”
His phone buzzed.
He checked it.
The warmth disappeared.
“What?”
Vincent turned the screen toward her.
Tyler had posted a video.
His face filled the screen.
“Everyone thinks Emily won something last night,” Tyler said. “Trust me, DeLuca was making a point. Men like him don’t date women like her.”
Emily’s smile vanished.
Then Tyler delivered the final line.
“Ask Emily how much DeLuca paid her.”
Vincent locked the phone.
Emily whispered, “He’s telling people I was paid?”
“Yes.”
She stood.
Vincent did too.
“Emily.”
“No.”
“Sit down.”
“No. I spent three years letting that man define me.”
She grabbed her coat.
“Where are you going?”
“To work.”
Vincent frowned.
“Why?”
“Because Tyler thinks I’ll hide.”
She looked directly at him.
“I’m done hiding.”
Vincent studied her for several seconds.
Then nodded.
May you like
“Good.”
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