Reviews: Back again, and again so happy about these great reviews! To ohmypreciousgirl, toffeema, and Emmafan - I'm really glad you enjoyed it and I'll try to keep it up haha. To HPPhoenix07, thank you so much, I'm glad I'm keeping you going through the hiatus (only one week left!). To JRB, I'm sad for them too that's why it's hard to write angst, but the balance is nice - it can't always be adorable. And to all of you hoping I got out of my writer's block, I did get a handful of ideas recently! Not all of them are winners, obviously, but there should be another update before the show comes back on Monday, hopefully anyway.
Fic: The focus of the kiss itself in this one is a little less heavy than any of my other fics - sorry in advance if that bothers you - but I think the rest of the story is pretty okay. There's a touch of angst again but it isn't meant to depress you like the last one, honest!
Disclaimer: You know the drill - not mine, never will be.
Some things just get lost in translation.
Even though she felt like she was lurking, Emma couldn't stop herself from staring. She was getting to a point where she wasn't even sure what she would say if somebody asked her why she was staring so intently at her business partner and her assistant. And Emma hates not knowing what to say. But she hates not knowing what to do even more.
They're at a fundraising gala – a black tie event meant to be raising money and awareness regarding education of the underprivileged. Emma had been happy to mill about the guests, since she knew many of them, avoid Maddie Bates, as she always did, and enjoy both the fine food and expensive wine, not that those were usually hard to come by. The gala also featured many presentations involving the actual topic, which was nice given that most people were less willing to part with their wealth unless they actually understood the topic and how it was to be solved. Or, at least, most of the people Emma was acquainted with.
Yes, Emma had been all too ready to engage in this gala after the craziness of the last while. Well, it was hardly craziness, but the weight of it all never seemed to leave her so she considered it a big issue. But that wasn't even the right word for it, and she hated all the negative connotations she seemed to give this whole situation, because even if it was causing her stress and confusion, it felt wrong to refer to it negatively.
Nevertheless, all of this had been exempt from her brain for the last two hours as she muddled into the crowd at the gala. Well, she didn't muddle, Emma never simply muddled through anything; she had shone in the wake of the other guests. But, regardless of how she appeared, it was all a façade that came crashing down the minute she saw Alex and Harriet together.
She didn't get it, she simply could not for the life of her understand it. Emma knew that the two of them had gotten close over the last little while, but that didn't help her situation much. It didn't explain why Harriet seemed to hang on every word Alex uttered or why he shot her wide smiles over his champagne glass. It made Emma's head hurt and yet she couldn't force herself to walk away.
"Emma?" a voice to her right says, just as she feels herself leaning towards the ballroom doors, about to make herself look just as pathetic as she felt. Emma turns to the voice calling her name, her ears having dulled to the sounds of the ballroom the minute she zeroed in on Alex. Thus, she's surprised, and shortly thereafter relieved, to find Annie looking at her curiously.
"Hi," she manages, sounding as normal as possible though she knew her friend could see through it. Annie gave her an honest and worried smile before taking a look at her empty glass.
"Well, it seems you need another drink. Come with me," Annie told her, trying to not so obviously steal a glance at Alex across the ballroom floor. Emma feels like protesting the idea of moving, but Annie already has an arm through hers and is pulling her towards the bar.
They sit next to each other on tall gold stools that keep their gowns from touching the floor. But the stools also keep Emma's feet off the ground, which makes her feel uncomfortable for a reason she can't quite decipher.
Annie orders them drinks and Emma doesn't even hear the names, realizing she doesn't intend to protest to whatever Annie thinks is best right now. It's an odd feeling for Emma, not having a say in every possible detail of her life.
"So, will we approach the elephant in the room or should I pretend to start the conversation elsewhere and work our way there?" Annie asks this while reaching out to grab Emma's hand and then holds it in her lap. Emma didn't realize how much she needed to talk to her about this until she asked.
Still, she finds herself responding, "Can I pretend to not know what you're talking about until our drinks arrive?" Annie smiles softly and nods, still holding her friend's hand until the drinks slip onto the bar's counter.
Emma inspects the drink. It's slightly red and transparent and it burns her throat when she drinks it. She raises an eyebrow at her friend. Annie shrugs, "Something Ryan drinks, I've always been meaning to try it. No good?"
Emma takes another sip before making a face to show that she's had worse. Then, silence falls between them.
"If you don't want me to vocalize my question, you better start talking," Annie says, with pretend sternness. Emma looks at a lost, though she knows what her friend wants to know.
Annie sighs, "Emma, what's going on with you and Alex?" which is more than Emma had expected, truthfully. She had thought Annie was only wondering why she had been staring at him like a strange stalker. Now she knows that Annie has noticed something different about her and her business partner for a while. Emma makes a mental note to keep in mind how clever her friend is in the future.
"I don't know where to begin," she replies, spinning her straw around in her now pinkish drink. It really was one of the oddest things she's ever seen. A part of her would have preferred doing vodka shots, but she assumed that was frowned upon at most galas.
"Just start from whatever's bothering you and work your way around it."
Emma sighs before beginning what she feels may be a slippery slope. "He wrote me a letter."
Annie sips from her drink, grimaces, and waits for her friend to continue. Emma, however, seems to have stopped for the time being.
"Okay, so maybe Alex is a little old fashioned but I don't see why that would change anything between you two?" Emma looks up at her and realizes her friend isn't being sarcastic. It's one of the reasons she loves her.
"It's what he said in the letter," Annie's face prods her to continue. "He just…kind of…explained that he liked me." Emma swallows.
Annie stares at Emma, then at her drink. "I don't think that was the word he used, Emma," and the girl in question sighs and feels herself looking up at the ceiling as if for guidance. "No, it wasn't."
Then, silence again until they both finish their drinks. Annie breaks it first.
"What does that mean, for you?"
Emma turns to face Annie and grabs her hands again. "I don't know. Before he said anything, I thought I felt something there but…it's not supposed to be like this. It isn't supposed to be this complicated."
Annie frowns, "What isn't?"
"Love," she says, her tone caught between matter-of-fact and confusion. "It wasn't this complicated for you and Ryan."
Annie laughs softly, "Emma, you and Alex are hardly me and Ryan. You can't expect to get together with him as easily as Ryan and I did."
Emma takes her hands back, looking decidedly uncomfortable. She wishes the bartender would come back so she could order something else. "Why not? Every couple I set up, they just fell together. Me and Alex," she shakes her head at the thought, "we seem to never meet each other in the middle."
"Well, that's worth exploring," Annie offers, with the kind of enthusiasm that reminds Emma of herself when she was still 20 for 20 in her success rate. But Emma doesn't match her friend in her excitement; she just shakes her head, confused.
"Emma," Annie laughs again, "a relationship that you didn't even see coming? A relationship that has a potential to make its participants extraordinarily happy?" Emma's lips curl lightly at this. "A relationship that would open your market to a whole new set of match-making opportunities? Something like that doesn't come around often. Don't you want that?" Annie's grinning at her now and Emma finds herself laughing softly.
"You sound like Alex when you say it like that. As if our relationship was some sort of business transaction he could understand as long as it's in Excel format," Emma waves her hand as if dismissing her best friend's silliness.
Annie pauses, her smile faltering. "That isn't what he put in the letter, is it?"
Emma laughs at the look on her face and shakes her head. "No, surprisingly. That's not even close to it," she says whimsically, re-reading the letter in her head, the one she knew off by heart, backwards and forwards.
Annie smiles, not even bothering to mutter "Good" in case it ruins whatever spell Emma is under at the moment. If Emma had said yes to her question, she might have worried for her friend just a touch. But judging by the way she was practically glowing as she sat there and thought about Alex's well-chosen words, Annie knew Emma's heart was safe. Not that she would have worried too much, she's seen how Alex has been looking at her friend for a while now and never would have expected anything else from him, really.
"You love him," Annie says, meaning to ask it as a question but hearing it come back to her own ears as a statement. Emma doesn't let trivial things get under her skin, and she's known about this letter for a week, so Annie knew it was something deeper. Something that meant a lot more to her than maybe she was willing to recognize just then.
Emma stares intently at the ring left by her glass on the bar counter. She finds it odd that both she and the bartender didn't think to use a coaster, or anything for that matter, to keep the condensation off of the counter's surface. But, more importantly, she thinks about Annie's question, which doesn't even really seem like a question when she plays it over in her head.
And then she realizes that it isn't a question. Not really. She's loved Alex her whole life; he's been her best friend her whole life. It isn't a question about whether or not she loves him, it's a question of what kind of love. For a while now, Emma's been telling herself that she doesn't want to lose what they have, even if it means putting her own deeper feelings aside. The last seven days have been torture because Alex's letter proved that he could put their friendship aside for something else. Emma had felt so confused by that, she felt like she was losing her friend and business partner to the idea of having a boyfriend. But now, she feels silly. Loving Alex in a romantic sense didn't mean she gave him up as her friend. It was another layer, not a replacement. And she loved Alex as her best friend and as something more. She wanted that, she wanted both. She wanted him.
"Yes," Emma finally responds, trying to speak while simultaneously trying not to break her cheek bones with the extent of her smile. "I suppose, I love him a lot."
Annie grins widely before pulling her friend into a tight hug. She could remember the absolute rush of emotion that Emma had displayed when she had first said that about Ryan. Even then, her excitement didn't come from a successful match-maker's point of view. It had been the kind of joy that can only be shared between two friends who spend every day wishing the best for each other.
When Emma pulls back from the hug, Annie watches her face fall. Annie furrows her brow and grabs Emma's hands again, absentmindedly wondering why she kept letting go of them when she seemed to keep grabbing them again. "What's wrong?"
"I think, I missed my chance," Emma says, unable to meet her friend's worried gaze. She feels the pit of her stomach fall away and she's suddenly back in the ballroom, leaning against the doorway and feeling pathetic.
"Emma, it's been a week." Annie looks genuinely confused, like she can't understand why Emma isn't running straight to wherever Knightley is to tell him the good news.
Emma shakes her head, knowing her friend means well but also knowing that she hasn't been in the office the past week. Or the weeks before that. Then she sighs, "He likes Harriet."
Annie blinks and her confusion deepens, "If he liked Harriet, he wouldn't have written you that letter," which was a logic Emma understood. She knew that what she said didn't make sense, but it also didn't change the fact that Alex and Harriet don't ever seem to spend much time apart. That, in following his leaving her the letter to discover, Alex had preferred talking to Harriet about office problems. And, on days where the business side of things was not particularly vexing, Alex was even known to take Harriet out to lunch. It bothered Emma to no end because it made the message of his letter seem different; as though getting his words out into the open somehow rid him of the feelings associated.
"Emma, he's absolutely…" Annie tried to find the right word to describe how Alex felt about Emma. The two of them might not have been the closest of friends, but it hardly took a genius to recognize Alex's obvious feelings for her friend. "Captivated by you."
Emma laughs, something between disbelief and complete bitterness. She turns to look at Annie as though she is utterly clueless, which rubs the homemaker the wrong way.
"Fine, I'll prove it," and then she's on her five-inch heels grinning a roguish grin at her surprised friend. Emma reaches out and grabs her arm, the look of panic in her eyes becoming a full body motion as she begins to shake. "What have I ever told you about being sneaky?"
"I don't want to be sneaky. I want my best friend to finally get together with the right guy," Annie replies, lightly pulling her arm out of Emma's grasp but not moving any further from her. She believes that this is inevitably Emma's choice, but she figures she would just offer her a good incentive. Emma stands slowly, making sure her gown falls back in all the right places, until she has risen to her full height. Her confidence, though shaky, is definitely back and she looks at Annie with determination – and maybe a hint of worry.
Emma takes a deep breath, moving towards the doors to the ballroom again. "Could you repeat what you said?" she whispers to Annie, as she fidgets to fix her hair.
Annie wasn't sure what part of it she wanted repeated, so she went with what she believed her friend most needed to hear. "He loves you, Emma. And you love him," and then, with a gentle squeeze of her hand, Annie turns back to the party and melts into the crowd.
Emma is stopped by many other contributors to the fundraiser as she makes her way back to the ballroom. She's thankful for the distraction seeing as it means less focusing on Alex and whatever she intends to do. And she has absolutely no idea what she intends to do. Or say, for that matter.
She's so lost in her thoughts of how best to act that she turns blindly to the voice calling her name because she thinks it's another gala attendee, wondering if she thought the cause was worth investing in in the long run. Instead, her "Yes," becomes something of a squeak when she notices Alex standing beside her.
"Hi, I haven't seen you all night," he's smiling brightly at her, his hands in his pockets. "I thought, maybe, that – are you alright?" he asks, the worry etching into his face in fine lines and wrinkles.
Emma didn't realize she was holding her breath until he asked. She exhales, in what she hopes is a nonchalant way, before stating, "Never better, Mr. Knightley."
Alex nods, though he still looks worried. She likes the way he looks when he worries about her, not because she's often worth worrying over, but it's just another way he shows how much he cares. He loves me and I love him, Emma repeats to herself like a mantra, forcing herself to return her breathing to a normal rhythm and to meet his eyes.
"What do you think of the gala?" he asks, absentmindedly, because he's still trying to read her expression and can't think of a better topic at the moment.
Emma shrugs, "A little grandiose, but not too terrible." Alex chuckles softly at her assessment; they usually agree on things like this and today is no different.
"Classic Emma," he smiles at the ground fondly, before looking back up at her. "Is your father thinking of donating?"
Emma blinks. She hasn't seen much of her father that night, which is very unlike her, but she's had some very pressing issues on her plate. And just like that, she remembers everything she needs to talk to Alex about like a light switch flicking on in the corner of her brain.
"I'm not sure. Alex, can we talk?"
"I was under the impression that we were talking?"
Emma rolls her eyes and remembers how much of a pain he can be when he wants to. "I mean, talk seriously."
Alex raises an eyebrow, "Do you want to discuss taxes or something?" Emma rolls her eyes again before grabbing his upper arm and pulling him from the ballroom. In spite of his protests, she doesn't let go until the pair of them are outside, in the fresh air, where the only reminders of the gala are their fancy outfits.
"Okay, we're outside? Am I missing something? Harriet's going to wonder where we are."
Emma turns away from him, crossing her arms and taking a deep breath. "Can you please stop talking about Harriet?"
Alex makes a perplexed expression, his brow furrowed, all of which Emma doesn't see because she's still turned away from him. "Emma, we're the ones who dragged her to this gala. She doesn't know anyone here, we can't just expect her to be okay in a room full of strangers – particularly with some of the people we know in there."
Emma finally turns around and Alex can't read her expression in the poor outdoor lighting but he's almost certain she's angry by the tone of her voice. "You, not we."
He pauses, "What does that mean, exactly?"
She huffs, feeling like she wants to be anywhere but here, having this conversation. "You invited her, you brought her here, you thought it would be good for her. Not me."
Alex runs one of his hands through his hair, trying to give himself a moment to collect his thoughts. But he still doesn't seem to understand why this is making her so angry, or why she feels the need to talk about this at all. "Okay, me not you. Understood. That doesn't change the fact that someone should be in there making sure she doesn't start discussing backgammon with Leonard Schultz." It's a joke, a bit of a weak one, but he's trying isn't he?
"Alex," she says, hearing the weariness in her own voice as she walks towards him. He's closer to the door back into the hall so she feels herself stepping back into the light as she approaches him. "I don't…get it. How are you acting like this?"
He cocks his head to the side, his hands reaching out to hold her before he stops himself and just kind of shakes his head. "Acting like what?"
"Like you don't even remember leaving me that letter," she replies, searching his eyes for the answer while feeling her own get a bit glassy. She was determined not to cry but at this point she was so frustrated she wasn't sure what she was going to do next.
Alex looks completely deflated by her question, like the act of standing up straight is becoming a challenging activity. He hunches over and bends at the knees, looking like the next gust of wind would knock him over. "That isn't something I'm likely to forget, Emma," but he doesn't meet her eyes as he speaks, or after. He doesn't continue, so the silence just seems to stretch on between them.
Eventually, Alex moves to lean against one of the glass doors leading back into the hall. He still won't look at her but he asks, "Why do you want to talk about this all of a sudden?" And Emma notices the varying degrees of anger, confusion, and exasperation layered in his voice.
She moves over to where he's standing but he just shifts his gaze so he still isn't looking at her. He loves me and I love him, she repeats to herself one more time before saying, "Did you think we were never going to talk about it?"
"Yes," he says, too quickly, turning back to meet her gaze. "We don't need to talk about this, Emma," he continues, pushing himself off the door and turning around as if to use it to get back into the hall. "Your silence was a clear enough message. I would really prefer not to have to hear you say it, okay?"
Emma grabs his hand and pulls him back towards her, "What would I say?" She searches his eyes because she's confused but also because she's never seen Alex look so upset about anything. Their conversation had barely been a real discussion so what had she done to make him so sad?
Alex curls his hand into hers and she lets him. "Emma, I can't do this. I can't...talk about this. I said what I needed to in that letter and I don't know how to…You know I'm not good at this, just let me go back inside. I understand what you want and I'll…you can just…I get it, okay? Problem solved, crisis averted."
Emma's shaking her head, on the one hand because he really doesn't know how to make sense when he talks like that, and on the other because he's reading the situation completely wrong. Alex tries to turn back to the door again but she just grabs his other hand and holds both of them tightly in her own. She was really confused as to how he still wasn't getting it.
"Alex, I didn't talk to you about your letter because I didn't want to lose my best friend," she starts, and Alex leans back against the door and closes his eyes as though he already knows what she is going to say next. "But I don't want to be just friends with you anymore," she continues, watching him blink open his eyes and stare at her as though she must be lying. "And if you meant what you said in your letter, then I know that you don't want to either."
He breathes out a deep breath, looking down as he leans off the door before righting himself to his full height. When she can see his face again, Alex is smiling cautiously, as if she is about to tell him it was all a joke. Their eyes meet and it's like they're having a silent discussion just through their expressions. Eventually, Alex's smile is wide and genuine and Emma is wearing one to match his. He tentatively raises his hands from hers to cup her face and smiles brighter when she leans into his palms. "I'm always going to be your friend, Emma," he states, searching her eyes to make sure she understands what he means. Which was that, no matter what happened between them, things would always find their way back to this safe zone they'd created. That they would never lose each other completely. She nods, not because she believes him, but because she doesn't think they'll ever have to worry about that in the first place.
He continues staring at her, his eyes full of wonder, until she finally says, "I think this is the moment where you kiss me." Alex laughs, "Well, I'd hate to argue with the expert," before he's leaning forward and letting his lips finally find hers.
Emma practically floats back into the hall, on her way to find her father to make sure he doesn't get talked into donating more money than he's worth, as he's been known to do. She could still feel Alex's hands on her cheeks and waist, his lips and forehead pressed against hers, her fingers in his hair and on his starched collar. Letting go had been incredibly difficult, but the night wasn't over yet and she still had a lot more to do before the gala ended. So she let Alex go rejoin Harriet, after he pressed a reassuring kiss to her forehead, and she began searching the crowd for her father. When she finally finds him, he makes a comment about her countenance – given that she was smiling so brightly it looked almost painful and her cheeks were so flushed it seemed like she had just ran a marathon. But Emma assured him she was fine, her and Alex having decided to let people know about them later on so as to not take away attention from the fundraiser. Well, with the exception of one person.
"Emma," Annie's voice rang out across the ballroom as she caught her friend's arm just as she entered the room. It was an hour later, after finally getting her father to decide on an honest donation and seeing him sign the cheque herself, that Emma ran into her friend on the dance floor next to Ryan.
"I was hoping to run into you again," Annie was smiling at Emma, the latter of whom couldn't seem to stop smiling either. "Hey, Emma," Ryan offers, trying to join the conversation but not knowing what the two women were planning to talk about.
"Hi, Ryan. How are you guys enjoying the gala?" Emma asks, trying to pull her face into something more neutral but realizing that the smile would keep cropping up no matter what she did. Luckily, she was known for her positivity; she could only imagine how Alex was coping with his unquenchable good mood – it probably looked a lot more foreign on him.
"It's lovely. How are you, though?" Annie answers for the pair of them, her eyes asking the real question of what had happened and if everything had gone according to plan. Emma was surprised that she had to ask, but she guessed that her friend was just confirming that her mood was the result of whatever happened between her and Alex.
"Never better," she finds herself repeating, this time with earnest joy. Annie absolutely beams in return and Ryan smiles, saying, "That's always good to hear," without knowing any of the implications of what was going on.
Suddenly, Emma feels a tap on her shoulder and turns to find Charles Westbank, a friend of Ryan's she had met at the wedding. The two of them had spoken a fair bit at the reception and he was, like Ryan, a very well connected and wealthy man who was next in line to be CEO of his father's enormous printing company.
"Charlie, hi!" Emma greets him warmly, letting herself be pulled into a hug. "Hi, Emma, you look amazing," he replies, indicating her long purple ruffled gown. She had been pretty happy with her choice and was glad she wasn't the only one. She offers her thanks and another wide smile.
"Would you like to dance?" Charlie asks, looking like he had been working up the nerve to ask that all night. Emma's smile falters for a second as she decides whether she actually did want to dance – worried that if she did, she might just tip over from all the happiness bubbling inside her.
"I actually need to speak with her, Charlie," and Emma is surprised to find Alex at her side, looking as though he would really enjoy doing something to Charlie just then that he'd later regret. "You know how difficult it is to run a company, I'm sure," Alex continues through gritted teeth.
"Oh, right, yes, of course, yes, sure. I'll see you in a bit then, Emma," Charlie said, shaking slightly but composed enough to smile at Emma, nod to Knightley, and walk away at a brisk but determined pace.
Emma feels Alex's hand on the small of her back as she turns to face him. "You didn't have to be quite so harsh there," she mutters, realizing that both Annie and Ryan had seen the whole exchange. Though, thankfully, Ryan seemed distracted and Annie already knew so that hardly mattered.
Alex smiles, whispering back that he was still trying to get used to this. Emma rolls her eyes but keeps smiling, "What did you need to talk to me about?"
"Oh right," he says, his smile gone now. "Harriet's feeling really ill so I offered to drive her home. I was wondering if you wanted to come?"
Quite selfishly, Emma wants to say yes, especially because Alex keeps flicking his eyes from hers to her lips. But she can only sigh and say, "I can't. I already agreed to help take down the event. Organize the proceeds and all that."
Alex frowns, but nods, "You would do something like that." She hits him lightly on the arm and says, "I'll see you when you get back. And tell Harriet to feel better." She worried about her young assistant, who seemed to get sick more often than most people. Emma was already considering what type of vitamins to suggest to Harriet when she feels Alex's fingertips on her arm.
Almost imperceptibly, his fingers move from her wrist to her elbow and back. Emma finds herself smiling, mostly because he doesn't realize he's doing it so that when their eyes meet again and he notices her expression, he gives her a questioning look. Then he notices what he's doing and his hand jumps back, before slipping into his pocket to avoid doing it again. "Sorry," he admits, blushing slightly.
Emma shrugs, and smiles again, "Well, you'd better get going. Make sure Harriet gets home safely," she adds, sternly. He nods. Emma moves to head further into the ballroom.
"Where are you going?" Alex asks.
Emma blinks, "To find Charlie, why? And why aren't you leaving?"
Alex shifts awkwardly and Emma realizes he's embarrassed of his own jealousy. "Nothing's going to happen, okay?" she says to him quietly, smiling up at him reassuringly. "Besides, I need something to distract me until you get back. Or someone."
"That is so not funny, Emma, so not funny," Alex replies, narrowing his eyes but grinning as Emma begins laughing. They're both saved from any further discussion by a rather pale looking Harriet approaching them both.
"Harriet," Emma exclaims, her voice touched with worry as she moves her hand to her friend's forehead. Her assistant did not look good in the slightest and she felt bad keeping her driver here any longer than necessary just to flirt with him.
"Hi, Emma. Sorry to leave so soon," Harriet says, pushing her hair back behind her ears and giving her boss an apologetic smile. Emma flicks her hand to emphasize how much that does not matter right now and tells her to feel better. Harriet offers more apologies and a quick thank you before handing Knightley his coat. "I thought I'd save you the trip," she responds to the questioning look in his eyes.
"I've already asked the valet to bring the car around, so I'll just meet you outside," Harriet tells Alex, before waving her goodbyes to Emma, Annie, and Ryan and making her way to the front of the building.
Emma's eyes meet Alex's and he's about to say something when she cuts him off, "We can talk about it later." But Alex leans in regardless to say, "It isn't like that, Emma, honestly."
"Alex, seriously, please just get her home safely. We can talk about this another time."
Alex's eyes follow Harriet's exit path before he turns back to Emma, "She's crazy about Martin, not me. That's what she's been asking me for advice about all week. I promise you, okay?" Emma looks into his eyes and knows he's telling the truth. So she nods because she believes him.
Alex squeezes her hand and then follows Harriet out of the building.
Emma turns back to look at Annie and Ryan, who have been talking the whole time and weren't paying much attention to the other's conversation. Ryan notices her standing alone first and turns to her with a smile, "So when do you plan on telling everyone that you're dating Alex, exactly?"
Annie looks as surprised as Emma feels. "What? It was kind of obvious; Alex never looks that happy about anything – he wasn't even that content when he graduated Stanford with honours."
Ryan's wife might still look shocked but Emma finds herself laughing. "I don't know, Ryan, when would you suggest?" she asks through her laughs, his comment making her smile even brighter than before – if that was even possible. Ryan wraps his arm around Emma's shoulders, dragging her across the ballroom as he gives her his very best advice. Annie trails behind, laughing at his foolishness, and Emma just keeps smiling, ticking away the minutes until Alex came back to her.
Some nice hints of jealousy to prepare us for the next arc in the show, maybe? Haha, well I hope you liked it anyway, and that you review if you have the chance. As for me, I'll try to update before the end of the week - and, as it will be my tenth chapter, I might have another question for you all. Thanks again!