My Great Escape Led Me to You (Emily Blair) novel Chapter 822

Emily Blair gently slipped her hand from Elizabeth Wilson’s grasp. “No, I just picked something at random,” she said.

Elizabeth looked her up and down, shaking her head in disbelief. “Well, it’s true what they say—clothes really do make the person. You look nothing like your usual self.”

Despite her teasing, Elizabeth felt a wave of relief wash over her. Thank goodness Tristan Davis had stepped out for the afternoon. If he saw how stunning Emily looked, all dressed up for a blind date… Elizabeth shuddered at the thought.

Emma George cut in, waving her hands as if to move things along. “Alright, alright, Emily, go do your makeup.”

Emily only applied a light touch of makeup and twisted her hair into a loose bun, not much different from her everyday look. Still, paired with the elegant dress, the effect was striking.

When she emerged, Elizabeth’s eyes widened with admiration. Emma nodded approvingly. “You look wonderful. You’ll definitely make a good impression. Just remember what I told you—have a real conversation and let him get to know you.”

“I know,” Emily said, grabbing her purse from the couch.

Earlier that afternoon, Emily had arranged for the driver to wait for her downstairs at precisely the right time.

As she slid into the back seat, the driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Ms. Blair, where to?”

Emily paused, suddenly realizing she’d forgotten to check the address Emma George had sent her. She quickly pulled out her phone, scrolled to Emma’s message, and read the name of the restaurant aloud.

The ride was short; the restaurant was only about fifteen or twenty minutes from her place. Before she knew it, they’d arrived.

The restaurant, a five-star spot in the heart of the city’s business district, exuded understated luxury. At the entrance, a doorman spotted the car and hurried over, waiting beside the red carpet. As soon as the car stopped, he opened the door with a polite bow.

Hearing her, the man stood and turned around.

The moment Emily saw his face, a strange thought flashed through her mind: He looked so much better than his photos—his ID picture hadn’t done him justice at all.

He wore a light blue suit, his hair neatly styled and swept back from his forehead. His features were refined and attractive, his lips curved in a gentle smile. There was nothing intimidating about him; he radiated warmth and calm.

He smiled, stepping forward and extending his hand. “Ms. Blair? I’m Albert Rivera.”

Emily shook his hand. “Emily Blair.”

Their handshake was brief. Albert moved to the opposite side of the table and, in a gentlemanly gesture, pulled out her chair. “Please, have a seat.”