Chapter Seven - Regina

So, my plan to avoid alone time with Emma isn't going very well. I am currently buckling myself into the passenger seat of her car so that we can head off to a Christmas market together. Spending the afternoon, just the two of us, strolling beneath string lights and sipping on hot chocolates … that definitely wasn't what I had in mind.

I try to think of a way to get out of this. Immediately after agreeing to go, I headed back to my room and thought of reasons to cancel. Maybe I had some work to do, just like Henry did. Maybe I had to stay behind to take a phone call. Maybe I was too shaken up after nearly sinking to the bottom of the pool during my swim.

It was no use. None of those would ash. I couldn't go around saying I'd done a bit of light drowning every time Emma wanted to talk to me over the next week. It just wasn't sustainable. I no longer felt like going swimming anyway. After only one morning of avoiding her, I was already out of excuses.

Besides, I knew I would annoy her too much by saying no. Emma was being friendly, trying so hard to connect with me, but I was also noticing some frustration from her. She kept grilling me and something is off about her. Maybe because I am being so awkward around her despite all the effort, she was putting in. I could tell from the start that Emma was cool, but short of patient and a sometimes an idiot. The trouble was, the more frustration I sensed from her, the more awkward I felt, and that awkwardness was only bound to frustrate her even more. I was a vicious cycle. I was starting to think that maybe Emma has wrong idea about me or she doesn't like me very much. Nolan's family not liking me much would defeat the whole purpose of me being here for Henry. I had to meet Emma halfway and spend some proper time with her and prove it to her that I am not the enemy.

With a heavy groan, I resigned myself to an afternoon of festive fun.

A few moments later, Henry came into the room. He knocked on the door first, then padded across the carpet and sat down on the chaise longue.

"Hey," he said softly. "Just checking that you're okay going out with mom? It's only our first day here, and I don't want you feel thrown in at the deep end. Are you sure you're comfortable going?"

Absolutely not, I wasn't sure at all. Something inside me look desperate hold of the lifetime of Henry was throwing at me, and I started going through my excuses again. Work to do. Phone call to make. …

Enough. Henry's brow was furrowed with concern as he looked at me, the only blemish on his kind, open face. He was waiting so patiently for my answer. So sweetly.

"I'm fine," I fibbed. "I am looking forward to getting out and about. It'll be fun to hand out with your mom, and even more fun to get my mitts on some mulled wine." I plastered on a bright smile, "this is a great chance to practice being your girlfriend and getting to know your family. I can show off all my Henry Swan trivia." I performed jazz hands in the general direction of our notebooks. "Seriously. Thank you for checking in, but I am going."

Before I could think about changing my mind again, I skipped off to the bathroom to get ready: to touch up my make-up and spritz on some extra perfume.

And now, here I am, less than twenty-four hours after driving up to the house with Henry, I am about to drive away from it again with his friendly, but frustrated, but fucking handsome mom.

Emma hasn't actually got into the car with me yet. She's crouched a few meters away near the water feature, doing something. I listen to Emma's desperate pleas and talking with her parents. I turn away from them both to look out of the driver-side window, out across the stretching lawns of the mansion. I know now the layout of the gardens now, thanks to Henry's detailed tour this morning. I have a quick look at the almost hidden rose garden to the north, and the little bungalow behind it in the far distance. Whoever the Nolan's hired, they did amazing job with it. I'm impressed with their work and even asks Henry about it but he doesn't know. I catch sight of a person heading inside, so far away that they look like a toy figure. Their only discernible feature is a puff of bright giner hair. The groundskeeper. I keep looking around, tracking my gaze back to the rose garden and then to the insanely beautiful lake just left of that.

In fact, all the melodrama has to end. If I feel awkward, I can push through. If I feel drawn to Emma, I can deal with it. There is nothing weird or wrong about me finding an objectively attractive woman attractive. It is not like. I am going to do anything about it. I am committed to being Henry's fake girlfriend- and over in the real world, I have only been single for a month. Dianella deserves better than me throwing myself at someone else already. I would never want to upset Dianella, or Henry, so I wouldn't make a move on Emma. All that is going to happen this afternoon is friendly conversation.

"I'm excited to have a proper chat with you at last," Emma had said when we left the foyer together a few minutes ago. "We'll have plenty of time to talk because my radio's broken. A lot of my car is broken, to be honest. Nothing dangerous, just a bit old and banged up, but hardly worth upgrading since I only drive it few times a year. My parents hide it in the garage the rest of the time. Anyway, the point is, there's no music, so we'll just have to chat."

Now I know she did this on purpose, they have good cars and I am sure her parents would even lend her one of their cars. All I have to do is follow suit. From the moment she gets into the car with me, I will start up some casual chatter, and then we will have a casual afternoon together, and then I will come casual around her. I will get my confidence back. This is how I deal with problems at work: confidence and poise, facing any issues head-on. I can do the same thing here. Spending this much time with Emma will normalize her for me. By the end of the day, I will be back to my usual self and. I will get on with doing what I came here to do in the first place: enjoying luxury holiday in a gorgeous manor without any complications.

I sit up straighter in my seat. Tell myself I can do this. All I have to do is be myself. Emma pulls open the car door and slips into her seat. The tiny space fills up at once with fresh citrusy smell that seems like it belongs to summer, not winter. She flicks her hair over her shoulder, so that the blonde waves tumble down her back. She flashes a smile my way, "sorry I took so long."

"Oh, it's fine," I wave away the apology and smile back."

Her smile widens at this, eyes twinkling as she starts the engine, "ready to go?"

"Yes."

Emma nods and pulls the car into drive. I wonder whether I should apologize again about last night and this morning at breakfast table, but before I can say anything Emma is spinning the car quickly around the water fountain and started asking questions about my likes and dislikes, starting with animals' breeds. I am not an animal person, but I have nothing against animals. "Is Henry on the same page?"

I keep my face relaxed and resist the urge to tug at my collar of my coat when I forgot about Henry already. Emma has switched the heating on, and the car is filling up with hot air. I roll back my shoulders. I am fine. This is good sign, actually. This proves that I am doing exactly what I set out to do: being myself. Even though, I still need to remember to stay in character.

"Yes, Henry and I definitely want to adopt one day. We want to adopt a dog. It will work out nicely because I'll always be at home to look after it."

"You don't work?"

"I do. I just work from home."

"I see," Emma stops at the end of the driveway, glances left and right, then pulls us out onto a narrow road. "What do you do?"

"It's sort of a family business and started up on my own."

"You own your own business?" She sounds surprised and impressed, and I feel a little glow of pride. "Is it … going well?"

"Yes, it is," I think about stopping there, because I do not want to brag. "I poached a few clients from several different agencies, and I've attracted some new ones, too. A couple of them are pretty big brands, like that lingerie company that all the politicians buy undies from for their mistresses. Their reputation is a little iffy, but they always give me free examples. And there's, Henry too."

"Henry? He's one of your clients?"

"He's both actually. He's very supportive. He introduced me to a new client recently. A business friend of his. Networking is so important. I actually met my first investor at coffeehouse one morning in London. His backing made all the difference for me at the start. I signed on Henry as a client when he wanted to work with me."

"Huh," Emma says. "Who is this generous guy?"

"He's more of a silent partner. He lives to invest privately, so I cannot break his confidentiality."

"Very mysterious," Emma says again, "they only do that when it's a lot of money, right?"

I find talking about finances an uncomfortable and how she steers my job to finances too quickly. Is this normal, I wonder. I carefully shift the conversation from finances to clothes I wear at work then jewelry and food.

"So, you and Henry eat out a lot?"

"Yes, we go out all the time. He's taken me to so many restaurants, museum and different places I'd never even heard of before."

"He really is generous, isn't he?"

I sigh dreamily, like I am in love with him, "he's always treating me."

Emma just nods at that. The quiet doesn't bother me, as I know the more conversation will follow soon enough. I started to relax a lot more now. I barely noticed how the soft sunlight catches the golden streaks in Emma's hair or how her lemony scent mingles with my sweet perfume. I gaze out of my window, at the endless frosty fields that fly by as we zoom down the road, and I know that I can follow through this afternoon. I might even be looking forward to it.