My Great Escape Led Me to You (Emily Blair) novel Chapter 894

Hearing those words, Hilaria Vargas felt the tension in her chest ease.

She picked up the takeout box. “Alright, I’ll bring it over, then.”

Balancing the takeout in her hands, Hilaria stood outside Tristan Davis’s office, nerves fluttering in her stomach.

She knocked, and from inside, she heard Tristan call, “Come in.”

Stepping inside, Hilaria walked up to his desk and set the takeout and a set of disposable plates and forks before him. “Mr. Davis, your dinner’s here.”

Tristan didn’t even look up, his eyes fixed on the stack of paperwork in front of him.

Hilaria’s gaze lingered for a moment on the sharp line of his nose, her thoughts drifting.

He acknowledged her with a low hum. “You can go now.”

Hilaria replied gently, “Alright. You should eat while it’s still hot.”

—

That night, Emma George returned late from dinner with her girlfriends. It was nearly ten when she walked in the door—and froze in the living room, stunned by the sea of roses filling the space.

Without even bothering to take off her shoes, she dashed into Emily Blair’s room and dragged her out.

“Emily Blair, who sent you all these flowers?”

Emily, half-asleep and already curled up in bed, groaned at the disruption, completely exasperated. “Elizabeth Wilson sent them.”

Emma frowned, not hearing the name she’d expected. “Why on earth would Elizabeth send you this many roses?”

Emily’s eyes stung with exhaustion. “You’ll have to ask her. It doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

Emma’s brow furrowed. “Not right for each other? What’s wrong with him? He seems like a perfectly decent young man.”

Emily let out a sigh, pressing her palm to her forehead. “We just aren’t a good match, that’s all.”

Emma tugged at her daughter’s arm. “Tell me the truth.”

Emily, growing frustrated with the interrogation, muttered, “Our personalities don’t click.”

Emma poked her forehead, half teasing, half scolding. “I think the problem is you. You’re always unwilling—about everything.”

Emily rubbed the spot where Emma had poked her. “Glad you realized. I don’t want blind dates. Please, stop setting me up.”

Emma glared at her. “If this one doesn’t work, there’s always the next.”

Emily stood up abruptly. “No more setups, Mom. Work’s been insane lately, and I barely have time to breathe, let alone go on dates. I’m serious—if you try to arrange any more, I won’t go. Absolutely not.”