to the big white barge, out of breath and rosy-cheeked as she'd jogged the three blocks from the subway (no mean feat in the boots).
Eric was standing under a large black umbrella talking quietly into his cellphone, but he'd spotted her approach, and held up his hand in greeting.
"I have to go now, Karen. But yes, the Chicago people are on board. We're back in control of the situation. Send me the minutes when you get a chance."
The smile he bestowed on Emmy when he pocketed his phone was warmer than any expression she'd yet seen on his face, and she grinned straight back.
"Good evening, Emmy. Having second thoughts about the car?" he asked with a pointed look at the never-ending rain, and she wrinkled her nose.
"I'm not made of sugar. But I have to admit that the subway did its best to piss me off. Sorry I'm late."
"Barely. Our seats are reserved, don't worry.”
“By the way,” she added, “I’ve signed the contract — might as well hand it to you now.”
She pulled the slightly creased envelope from her bag and handed it over, conscious of the formality of the gesture despite the informal setting.
Eric smiled at her and put the envelope in his pocket before extending his arm.
“Shall we?”
She stepped under the shelter of his umbrella, conscious of her damp coat, and put her hand on his arm. It felt very courtly, for want of a better word, and old-fashioned, something she'd come to associate with Eric Oswell in the few days she'd known him. Maybe it was a deliberate act he puts on for her, or maybe it was his M.O. with women, but she found it oddly charming, providing he kept his controlling tendencies in check.
Once inside, they were ushered to the front row — why was she not surprised? — just a few moments before the cellist made her entry, and the performance began, lulling Emmy into a musical trance, the like of which she hadn't experienced for years. Ten minutes in, and she was completely immersed in the music, the notes dancing through her head, taking her on a journey of rediscovery.
She'd forgotten that she could commune with music in that elemental fashion, and it occurred to Emmy that she owed Eric a debt of gratitude. She stole a look at him — his attention was rapt, his focus entirely on the stage, and she felt an unexpected bond with him.
In a pause between two suites, he caught her eye, and although neither of them said a thing, something passed between them, enough to make Emmy feel a little less doubtful about accepting his invitation. This wasn't just an illusion — there was chemistry here, and more. The question was, where was it all heading, and what did he want from her?
When the concert was over, Eric reached over and squeezed her hand briefly, which felt nicer than it ought to.
"Was it as good for you as it was for me?" he said with a smile.
She nodded, still under the spell.
"Overwhelmed?"
"It's just... been a long time since I've been to a classical music concert. I guess I forgot how much I liked them. And how much I love Bach."
As they walked out and off the barge, she found that the faint motion of the ship had seeped into her bones, and the dry land felt slightly unstable, as if she were swaying imperceptibly from side to side. Eric leaned into her: "Care for a drink and maybe a bite to eat before heading home?"
At which point Emmy realized she hadn't eaten anything since a cream cheese bagel sometime in the late morning, which turned out to be woefully inadequate for long-term sustenance. Maybe the emotional punch packed by the performance helped conceal her hunger, but now she'd noticed, she was absolutely ravenous.
"I could be persuaded," she said, and she let him guide her down and across the waterfront, to the River Cafe's welcoming plant-bedecked entrance.
She'd been here once before, for a fancy book launch, and retained fond memories of the view and the food. One thing was for sure — this dating millionaires jaunt was going to be good for her tastebuds, but terrible for her waistline.
"Am I not a little underdressed for this place?" she whispered to him as they walk in, and he turned to look at her and shook his head.
"You look stunning, as always," he said, and she felt a rush of warmth at his words. "Besides, all they really care