"Emily, about what you're doing," he started, his tone somewhat stern.
"This sneaky journalist approach, digging into my past, isn't going to get you anywhere."
Emily looked taken aback by his harsh tone and quietly replied.
"I'm just doing my job...
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***The Invitation***
Amy's finger hovered over the call button, a flutter of nerves dancing in her stomach. Alex's number glowed on her phone screen, and memories of their recent meetings played in her mind. Taking a deep breath, she tapped the screen and waited for the connection.
"Hello?" came the familiar voice, smooth and controlled.
"Mr Carrington, it's Emily," Amy said, her voice steady, though her heart raced.
"I've been thinking about our conversations, and I'd like to take you up on your offer to meet."
"Please, call me Alex," he replied, his tone softening just a touch. The informality caught her off guard, a pleasant surprise that hinted at something more.
"Alright, Alex," she agreed, warmth creeping into her cheeks.
"How about Saturday? There's a charming café near the park. It's quiet and perfect for a chat."
"That sounds nice," he said, and she could almost hear the smile in his voice. "See you at 10?"
"It's a date," she answered before realising her choice of words. "I mean, a meeting. See you then."
"Until then, Emily," he said, his voice rich with something unspoken, something that left her intrigued. The line went dead, and Amy stared at her phone, her thoughts swirling. There was an unexpected warmth in Alex's voice, a connection she couldn't quite put her finger on. His insistence on using his first name and the subtle change in his tone all pointed to something deeper.
She couldn't deny the excitement building within her, the anticipation of what their next encounter might reveal. But she also knew that she needed to keep her emotions in check to remember her mission. As she sat back in her chair, one thing was clear: this was more than just another meeting, and Alex was more than just another subject of investigation.
***The Cafe***
Saturday morning arrived, and Amy felt a strange thrill as she prepared to meet Alex again. She found herself replaying their previous encounters, his image etched in her mind. His striking features, the way his eyes sparkled with intelligence and curiosity, and even the timbre of his voice seemed to call to something within her.
Arriving at the café, she chose a seat and glanced at her watch, feeling a flutter of excitement. Then, like clockwork, he was there. Alex Carrington was a man who carried an aura of sophistication effortlessly. His dark hair was styled just enough to give a hint of rebellion. His eyes, a deep shade of blue, seemed to hold a world of emotions, reflecting a soul that had seen both triumph and heartbreak.
