Back at the apartment building, Emmy and James walked into the elevator together.
When the doors slid open on Emmy’s floor, she stepped out first but paused at the doorway, glancing back at him.
“Oh, and don’t forget—you’re coming with me to see my mom tomorrow afternoon,” she reminded him.
James met her gaze, dark eyes unreadable. “Yeah, I know.”
Emmy pressed her lips together. The words “Good night” almost slipped out, rolling around on her tongue before she swallowed them down. Dean used to tell her, with a completely straight face, that saying “good night” in Chinese pinyin—W-A-N-A-N—was basically a secret code for “I love you, I love you.” Every “good night” was a confession in disguise.
She’d only ever said it to Dean.
So instead, she settled for a safer option. “Don’t stay up too late.”
But just as she turned to leave, James’s deep voice came from the elevator.
“Good night.”
Emmy froze.
She looked up and saw James standing there, totally calm, clearly having no idea what those words meant to her.
Her cheeks burned. Clutching her bag tighter, she ducked her head and mumbled a reply before practically fleeing into her apartment. The elevator doors slid shut behind her.
Inside, James couldn’t help but smile. His wife really was adorable. Just a simple “good night” and she was blushing like a schoolgirl.
*
The next morning, Emmy walked into her office and immediately knew something was off. The keypad on her safe was flashing red—an alarm that only triggered after too many wrong passwords.
Her heart dropped. Her project briefcase was in there—all of Forward Technology’s core data.
“Aidan!” she called. “Who came into my office last night?”
Her assistant, Aidan, rushed in and his face went pale when he saw the safe.
“Ms. Lincoln, everyone went out for dinner last night. I locked your door before I left, I swear.”
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