"Move!" Emma stretched her hands out in front of her, trying to edge her way out of the meeting room. "No, no, don't come any closer. This is seriously weird," she said, taking steps backward instead of forward.
"Weird?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You—don't you feel like all of this is… weird?" she half-shouted, her voice wavering as her lips began to lose their colour. "Just step aside and walk away, or I'll scream," she warned, her tone more nervous than threatening.
"Alright, alright. I'll go," he replied, stepping back with his hands up slightly in a gesture of surrender. "I just came by to return the book you left on the plane," he said, reaching into his suit pocket to retrieve something.
'I left a book? I don't think so.' Emma thought, frowning as she looked at him.
"Here…" He extended the book toward her.
Emma's frown deepened. "That's not mine."
"Not yours?" He pulled his hand back, flipping the book open. "But it was on your seat." He paused, glancing at the note inside. "Dear my lovely daughter, Emma—"
He didn't even finish reading before Emma snatched the book from his hand. She gulped, feeling her heartbeat quicken. She was sure she'd only brought one book with her. How on earth did this one end up on her flight?
"Then, I'll take my leave," he said, turning toward the door. Just as he reached it, he glanced back. "Oh, Miss Emma—"
In his distraction, he walked straight into the door, startling both himself and Emma, who had been lost in thought.
"Ouch..." he groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Guess I'm not a ghost after all," he muttered, just loud enough for Emma to hear.
Emma raised an eyebrow, fighting the urge to laugh. "Well, I guess even handsome 'ghosts' have trouble with doors," she quipped, smirking. Then, as if snapping out of her own surprise, she quickly straightened up. "Anyway, safe travels through the non-ghostly world," she added, feigning composure but clearly amused.
He rubbed his forehead, a hint of embarrassment flashing in his eyes, but he quickly composed himself, offering her a casual smile. "Guess I'll have to work on my graceful exits."
"Yes, please…" Emma said, her smile fading as she tightened her grip on the book he'd handed her earlier.
"Oh, by the way, would you mind having dinner with me? Eating alone is getting a bit boring." His suggestion came out of nowhere, catching her off guard.
"If eating alone is boring for you… then eating with you is downright terrifying for me." Emma pursed her lips and exaggeratedly widened her eyes. "So, no thanks. I'll gladly pass on your offer."
"Ouch… seems I made a wrong move," he replied with a playful smile. "Guess I'll just have to try a different approach." He turned, heading for the door.
"Wait—'try a different approach'? No, thank you! I'll report you to the police if you keep this up. Just because you think I'm an easy woman to please—"
"Who said that?" He cut her off, raising an eyebrow.
"What?" Emma was momentarily thrown by the interruption.
"I mean… who said you look like an 'easy woman'?" He looked at her with genuine curiosity, making her feel both flustered and intrigued.
Emma blinked repeatedly, her expression shifting in flustered surprise. "I—I mean… isn't that the kind of mindset you had, approaching me like that?"
"No," he replied firmly, crossing his arms. "Actually, you're the most—" he paused, catching himself. "I mean, you're… not exactly easy. I'd have to squeeze my brain for about a week just to figure out how to approach you."
As soon as he finished, they locked eyes, and his expression shifted as he realised what he'd just revealed.
"A week?" Emma narrowed her eyes, her curiosity piqued. "Wait… do you know me?"
He glanced to his right, then to his left, looking painfully awkward. "I mean, I saw you once at the bus stop…"
"I never ride the bus." She cut him off before he could finish, leaving him flustered.
"So… do you need to ride a bus to sit at a bus stop?" he shot back, his sudden question making Emma frown.
"Wait, are you just trying to change the subject because I caught you off guard?" She was officially done with this stranger.
"No, I mean it! I really saw you that day at the bus stop. You weren't taking the bus, but you were sitting there, reading your book," he explained, clearly trying to defend himself—or so it seemed.
Emma's frown deepened. "And what gives you the right to approach me like this? I mean…" She paused, pushing her bangs back in frustration. "You know, following someone just because you're interested in them isn't right. This is seriously getting creepy," she said, her voice tightening with discomfort.
"Ah, I'm sorry." His eyes wavered, a hint of worry seeping in. The smile he'd worn earlier had already vanished, replaced by a more serious expression. "I didn't realise I'd crossed the line."
"That's the problem! You never realise—that's what we call ignorance," she sneered, disbelief lacing her tone. "So, Mr. I-don't-even-know-your-name—"
"Leon. My name is Leon Gray," he interrupted, his voice calm as he introduced himself.
"Whatever. I'm not interested," she shot back immediately, her frustration and annoyance clear. "So, please… just leave before I call the police."
Leon managed only a nod, his lips pressed tightly together as guilt flickered in his eyes. "Ah…" He paused, clearing his throat, which suddenly felt dry. "I'm sorry, once again."
Emma ignored him and rolled her eyes. At this point, she figured her eye muscles deserved a medal for endurance—she'd probably set a personal record today.
"Does he think I'm that easy?" she muttered, her gaze dropping to the floor. "Pretending to invite me to dinner, puh…" she continued, half to herself. "Like I don't know what's on his mind. Hello, I love reading, and the fact that September consistently sees the highest number of births? Totally not a coincidence."
"Hello, Miss Emma." Leon's voice interrupted her self-talk. "Excuse me? I'm still here, and I heard that loud and clear. And what's this about the highest number of births?"