My Great Escape Led Me to You (Emily Blair) novel Chapter 902

Elizabeth Wilson arched an eyebrow, her eyes lighting up with mischief. “Did you call her?”

Tristan Davis gave a quiet grunt, then asked, “Why isn’t she picking up?”

Elizabeth glanced slyly at the door to Emily Blair’s office. With a wicked grin, she said, “How should I know? Maybe she’s with Mr. Cox. That’d explain why she can’t answer your call.”

She sounded absolutely certain, though in truth, she had no idea why Emily wasn’t answering.

Tristan fell silent again. Elizabeth called his name several times with no response. “Hey, hello? If you don’t say something, I’m hanging up.”

Tristan’s voice suddenly broke in. “Did she really go on a date?”

Elizabeth bit back a laugh, cleared her throat, and said, “Yeah, so what? Emily’s single—going on a date is perfectly normal, isn’t it?”

Tristan’s voice was low. “What’s the guy’s name?”

Elizabeth paused for effect, wanting to make him squirm. “Hmm… let me think. I can’t really remember.”

Tristan saw right through her. “You just said he’s working with your company. How could you not remember his name?”

The impatience and tension in his voice only made Elizabeth more entertained. She coughed, then chuckled. “Okay, fine, I do know. But why do you need his name? You’re not planning to cause trouble, are you? He’s an important client, you know. You better not scare him off.”

Tristan went quiet for a few seconds, then finally said, “No.”

Elizabeth seized on his silence, pressing further. “See how quickly you answered? What were you thinking about just now? You really are planning something, aren’t you? I’m warning you, he’s a valuable client. Don’t go scaring him away.”

Tristan’s brow furrowed, his irritation growing. “What’s his name?”

Elizabeth could hear the edge in his voice, and it made her both nervous and even more excited. “Wow, you really are anxious. Fine, his name is Albert Rivera—just like you, ‘Al’ for short. But I’m telling you, don’t—”

“Who is Albert Rivera?” he asked.

Emily’s gaze flickered. She lifted her eyes, hesitated a moment, then replied, “A client. Why?”

Tristan was silent, standing to retrieve the pen and clenching it in his palm.

He started to speak. “You—”

But before he could finish, someone knocked on his office door.

His brow tightened. On Emily’s end, she heard the knock as well and quickly said, “I’ll let you get back to work.”

Just as she was about to hang up, Tristan said, “I’m coming over tonight.”