"And what does your experience say, Mr. Evans? What do you think of yourself?"
"Hmm," the man put the plate down on the table and stared out the wide window opposite, "What do I think of myself? Not always what I would like, Miss Hayes, but I'm learning."
She saw Justin glance at her and return to his plate of food again.
Emily regretted that at that moment she was not wearing glasses to make out the man's gaze. Or maybe it was for the best. His words touched the girl too much.
"So what about that Kevin guy? Has your grandmother decided to go on the attack?" Justin asked with his usual gaiety as if there hadn't been that melancholic pause.
"I resolved the issue with Kevin. He won't stick around to eat other people's pies for free anymore."
Emily happily stuck a bamboo stick right into the center of the last dumpling. She would have liked to do something like that with the head of that saucy bustard, but the dose of champagne was enough for him already.
The boss watched as the girl with a devilish twinkle in her eyes twirled a piece of food in front of her and stuffed it into her mouth, relishing the cat who had just caught a little mouse. "You poisoned him, and the failed bridegroom went to the forefathers?"
Emily froze for a second, pondering the man's question, and continued to chew, "Hmm, that was probably a good option too," she replied with a full mouth.
Justin smiled and placed a couple of dumplings on her plate, one of which immediately followed its deceased comrade. "I don't know what you did, Miss Hayes, but your victory is unlikely to be long."
"And why is that?" the girl was surprised but did not have time to get an answer.
Vivaldi's winter warbled across the room.
"This is grandma," Emily quickly swallowed the last dumpling that had not been chewed, glanced at the boss, and immediately turned away.
Why the hell did she look at him as if they were caught doing something indecent?
"Pick up. It's not good to keep your grandmother waiting. She'll think something shady," Evans chuckled and got up from the couch, leaving the girl alone.
"Hello?" Emily barely had time to hit the call button on the last two chords (otherwise she would have definitely been interrogated with addiction!), "Hi, granny. What's up? Why are you calling me at this time?"
"What is the question, dear? I've been calling you every day at this time for five years now," Mrs. Hayes's voice was suspiciously restrained. Something was not right.
Emily turned around. The boss was sitting at his desk and poking around at the computer. Far enough not to hear her talking.
"Put it out. Or I'll hang up," she snapped and was right.
Granny laughed out loud and continued in a completely different tone, "Oh, dear, I'm so happy! Today I phoned my old friend, and can you imagine what?"
I think I can imagine, Emily rolled her eyes.
"She has an amazing grandson! Just your age! Smart, intelligent! Philosopher! Lives in France! Paris, Emily, your dream!"
Actually, this is your dream, grandma! Emily would like to interrupt an enthusiastic ode to an unknown grandson-philosopher, but she said nothing.
"Tomorrow he will fly here, only for two days. And Rebecca said she could bring him in so you two can get acquainted. Isn't that awesome?"
Yes, it's absolutely fabulous! Delightful! And who the hell is this Rebecca?! This was the first time Emily had heard of her.
"Granny, I will not date any philosopher from France!"
"Tell me at least one weighty argument against such an enviable candidate!" the woman did not calm down.
Emily checked how far her boss was. The object was in the same place. No suspicious movements were foreseen.
"I already told you," the girl, just in case, switched to a whisper, "I already have someone."
"Do not talk nonsense! I know you so well. You say this deliberately so that I stop bothering you."
"Miss Hayes, are you finished eating?"
Emily twisted at the unexpected question, not from the phone, but from the other side. Damn, how did Evans get here?! He was just sitting at his table a second ago!
She pressed the hang-up button (she was about to at least), but either her vision failed her, or her finger twitched...
"Do you think I believed you about your story with your boyfriend?!" Mrs. Hayes's stern exclamation exploded like thunder throughout the office.
What the... How club-handed should a person be to confuse the red button with the loudspeaker!
From confusion, the phone slipped out of her hand and flew away somewhere under the table, from where the granny continued to broadcast her angry tirade.
"What did you say his name was? Justin? Do not make me laugh! If you had this Justin, I would have been feeding him my pies instead of any Kevins for a long time!"
Oh shit! Emily stared in a bent position, trying to reach for the phone.
If you saw the painting "The Scream" by Munch, then this is how her soul looked at that moment.
Ahhh, somebody, kill me on the spot!
A couple of centimeters were left before the ill-fated gadget when the boss's tenacious fingers grabbed the symbol of shame of Emily Hayes before herself.
"Can you have more details about the pies?" he asked and turned off the speaker.
Emily didn't know where she got the courage to look at the boss, but she'd better not.
"Justin Evans, madam. Yes, that very person, Justin. I am real."
If before that Emily thought she saw Evans happy, then she was wrong.
Now he just shone with triumph!
Shameless little bastard! He also turned off the sound so that she could not hear his conversation with her grandmother, and saw only his malicious grin!
"She said I was her boyfriend?" the man's smile grew even wider. Correction: smug grin, not a smile!
Emily looked around. Where can I find a piece of paper to write a will? Her soul almost went to heaven when the first 'Justin' was heard from the speaker.
"Of course, madam. We will definitely be there. See you," Evans disconnected and put Emily's phone on the table.
Hayes sighed, "Go ahead, say what you want, Mr. Evans." It is impossible to imagine a greater shame.
Justin plopped down in a chair opposite the girl, took a piece of sushi from the table, threw it in his mouth, and solemnly declared, "Tomorrow morning I'll pick you up at nine."
"What for?" the question was pointless.
"I promised your grandmother that you would bring your boyfriend Justin to her for breakfast. Or do you have some other Justin, Miss Hayes?"
Trust me boss, you alone will be enough to replace all the Justins put together, she thought and said nothing. What's the use of talking when you can see everything from Evans' face?
Congratulations, you royally screwed up, Hayes.