Page 30 of That Prince is Mine
“Three weeks?” her godmother all but screeched. “Why would you want to do such a thing?”
Emma held the phone away from her ear. “I’m a dear. Remember?”
“Dear, my ass,” Auntie Soo muttered.
“Imo,” Emma gasped. “Language.”
“You still haven’t answered my question. Why do you need this… break?”
“My dad needs some time to come to terms with his only child getting married.” Emma went with the partial truth so she wouldn’t have to lie more than necessary to her godmother. “And it wouldn’t hurt for me to take a little time as well. I rushed headfirst into this whole matseon thing. Marriage is a huge step, and I need to be sure that I’m ready. Two, three weeks should be enough time for me and my dad to become comfortable with the idea, but it’s not so long that irreparable damage will come to your reputation. I know you want to sign the YogurtBerry family…”
“Emma, your well-being is so much more important to me than my reputation. And don’t worry about the YogurtBerry family. If they’re smart—and they are based on the success of their frozen yogurt franchise—they’ll sign with me,” Auntie Soo reassured her. “I’m sorry if I pushed you into this, my dear.”
“Please. That again? I’m the one who suggested this.” Emma’s stomach twisted with guilt. “I mean it, Imo. It’s not your fault. I just have a feeling the matseons will go much smoother once I’ve acclimated myself to the idea that this is the right time. I’ve always planned on asking you to find my match for me when I was ready.”
“Really?” Her godmother sounded so relieved that she had to smile.
“Yes, really.” And she meant it.
Her phone dinged in her ear, and she took a quick glance at the screen.
Michel:
Emma?
She knew what her message sounded like. You’ll be my little break from matseons. She squeezed her eyes shut. Everything was fine. She would deal with this.
“Very well then.” Auntie Soo sighed. “I only want what’s best for you.”
“I know, Imo.” Her godmother was the loveliest person alive. Emma would be ready to settle down with one of her matches after this break. That was what she’d always wanted. She ignored the queasy flutter in her stomach. “Thank you for understanding.”
“So you’re not coming over tonight, right? Because I have a book club meeting…”
“No, but I’d love to see you soon,” Emma said in a rush. “Let me know when you’re free to have lunch.”
“I’m free as a bird all next week. Except for Tuesday… and Wednesday. Friday might not work either.”
“Monday or Thursday, then.” Emma laughed. “I’ll touch base with you next week. Talk soon.”
Her laugh died in her throat as she stared despairingly at her phone screen. Would it be so terrible to let him think that he would be her little break from matseons? Wasn’t it kind of true? She gave herself a firm nod. He could make what he wanted out of her text message. She would focus on getting him out of her system as soon as possible. And that started by going on another date with him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Emma thought he wanted a brief interlude with her… and she was agreeable to the idea.
“Bloody hell,” Michel growled as he reread her text.
I want a break from the matseons.
A part of him was thrilled to spend more time with her, but it riled him that she wasn’t willing to give him a real chance. He would only be a “break” for her. She clearly intended to resume her search for her perfect-on-paper husband as soon as he returned to Rouleme—without her. What about him screamed bad husband material?
He was tempted to text her again—he wasn’t even sure what he wanted to say—but he pushed his mobile to the far side of his desk. No matter how impatient he felt, he could wait until after office hour. It was a privilege to teach these bright minds, and they deserved his full attention.
He opened his office door and said to the first student in line, “Please come in.”
“Hi, Professor Chevalier.” A young man with a mop of brown hair plopped down on a chair across from his desk. “Thank you so much for seeing me.”
“Of course. That’s what I’m here for.” Michel tore his eyes away from his mobile and focused on his student. “What can I do for you?”
