There was something in Karen's tone of voice that made her think the woman wouldn't let go easily — she was, after all, used to running her boss's life, including, by the sound of it, his love life.
"In the meantime," she said, "I am free on the 13th, if you want to go stare at some old Italian paintings together."
Eric chuckled.
"It's a date. This Sunday, right?"
He paused, and when he started again his voice was tentative.
"I might have another proposal for you, a little later in the month. You told me you had vague plans for Thanksgiving, but...I wonder if you'd consider changing them?"
"Changing them? What are you suggesting we do?"
"Since neither of us is burdened with family obligations...I was wondering whether you'd like to take a trip."
Emmy blinked. This was unexpected, to say the least.
"A trip? Out of town? Where to?"
"That, my dear Emmy, is for me to know, and you to discover...at a later date."
She laughed. The man really did get off on his power trips.
"A mystery vacation? You're suggesting that I just put myself into your hands?"
"Something like that, yes," he said, teasing, and Emmy drew a breath. She had no idea how to react — it was both an exciting possibility, and maybe a case of too much, too soon.
"I — isn't it a little...rushed?"
Apparently Eric hadn't expected that reaction, either, because for the second time the line went silent. Somehow they'd spent this whole conversation bumping into each other's sharp edges, all misunderstandings and crossed wires and maybe a little too much wariness on her part. Or too many assumptions on his.
"God, Em, I seem to be making a complete hash of things," Eric said, finally, and he sounded rueful. "I was thinking — let's get things organized for the weekend, and that it would be nice to spend some time together at Thanksgiving. But apparently it's come out as — I've delegated our interactions to my secretary, and I expect you to sacrifice your holiday plans to my whims."
It was Emmy's turn to stay silent.
"What can I do to fix this?" he asked, and the hint of desperation in his tone snapped Emmy out of her trance.
"You know what, maybe I'm being hypersensitive," she said, because there was something about his raw vulnerability that touched her. "You're trying to plan something nice and I'm being all suspicious. I'm just not used to this."
"Let me start over," Eric said. "I'd like to take you away for a few days over Thanksgiving, if you can be spared from the store — I know it's a crucial time for sales, but maybe you can swing it? And I'm not telling you where we're going, you'll have to trust me. I'm hoping you have a valid passport, though."
That earned him a surprised gasp from Emmy. Suddenly she had visions of palm trees and beachside huts.
"Whoa, my passport? Really? Are you going to tell me what I should take with me, too?"
"Is this a yes?"
"It's a maybe."
"Good," he said fervently, and he sounded so sincere for a second that she just wanted to say yes.
"Are you seriously expecting me to turn up at the airport without knowing my destination? How can I pack?"
"Think northern hemisphere, late fall."
"Aw, no beaches?"
"You'll get beaches later, I promise," Eric said smoothly, and he had to stop dropping these comments casually into the conversation like so many stun grenades, because Emmy was having the hardest time keeping it together.
To all intents and purposes, he was behaving as though they were properly dating, with long term prospects, something Emmy hadn't gotten round to figuring out in her own head. It was confusing, and making her feel a little giddy.
"Okay. Can we confirm when we meet this weekend then, or will it be too late?"
"It will be fine. So, Sunday the 13th, Metropolitan Museum of Art? I believe there's some sort of fundraiser going on after the museum closes, at which I might be expected to make a very brief appearance, if you don't object. If you do, it's not a big deal."
Emmy had flashbacks of the Opera dinner, a crowd of stick-thin society mavens with pitiless eyes and acerbic tongues all over again, and wondered whether this was the price to pay for dating Eric, the pound of flesh exacted in exchange for his devastating charm, his bedroom skills, and his apparent willingness to whisk her away for a mystery trip at the drop of a hat.
On balance, maybe it was worth it.
"Sure," she said,