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My muscles ache as I climb up the final hill in the park. Once I reach the top, I rest my hands on my sides and lean forward, taking in the fresh air into my lungs.
Last week, the media got hold of my face, and since then, they've been camping outside the gallery's entrance. I can't step out without being bombarded with pictures and blinding flashes. So, today, I worked from my apartment, which luckily they haven't discovered yet.
I sit down on a bench, frustrated that Aurelie hasn't responded to my messages about why she shared those portraits of me. All I want is to focus on steering the gallery in the right direction, not on being labeled as some handsome single billionaire.
"Alexander."
I glance up, and there's Emma, standing in front of me with a smile on her face. She's wearing an oversized sweater and joggers, her hair tied up in a casual ponytail, and she's not wearing any makeup. I stand up to greet her.
"You look beautiful," I say.
She laughs in disbelief. "How can I possibly look beautiful?"
"Believe me," I reply, stepping closer and whispering in her ear, "You are truly beautiful."
Our conversation at the cafe helped break down the walls between us. The subtle touches and glances don't bother me anymore. I don't even care if Aurelie gets upset about our potential relationship. Emma Turner is worth it.
She holds my hand. "I hope the press isn't causing you too much trouble."
I shrug, gesturing to the bench. "It doesn't matter. Working from home today wasn't a bad idea either."
"Do you live nearby?" she asks.
"My apartment is just three blocks from the gallery," I explain. "You can always come and work with me if you need some rest."
Emma flips her hair out of her face. "Believe me, I love the media attention."
I chuckle and shake my head. This woman knows how to handle an impossible situation and make it seem normal with little trouble. I gently squeeze her hand.
"Are you coming for a run, too?" I inquire.
"Because I'm wearing joggers and an oversized sweater?" Emma frowns. "I'm just enjoying my day off."
"You deserve it. You worked hard on your proposal," I affirm, chuckling.
"Have you received questions from the board?" Emma presses her lips together. "Or any negative feedback?"
"You won't get negative feedback. I'm sure they're fans of your idea," I reassure her.
She rolls her eyes. "You're just saying that..."
Part of me wants to kiss her right now, to stop her from doubting herself, but I resist the urge. I dig my nails into my palms, worried that the media might find out where I live and follow me to the park.
