Emily Blair: *I've already left. We agreed to take things slow and just get to know each other for a while.*

Emma George's reply popped up instantly: *So... you two hit it off?*

Emily raised an eyebrow, surprised, and shot back: *No, what are you thinking? We're just going to see how things go.*

After a brief pause, she added, more cautiously: *If it turns out we're not right for each other, we'll call it quits. No big deal.*

Emma's typing bubble lingered for ages before her next question finally appeared: *1 see. So, what's he like?*

Emily typed carefully, choosing her words: *He's okay, I guess. Looks pretty much like his photos.*

Emma: *I mean, overall does he seem like a decent guy? Do you actually like him?*

Emily hedged: *Overall, he's all right. Not bad.*

Emma: *Let's talk more when you get home.*

Emily: *Sure.*

What Emily didn't know was that her understated "all right" sounded, to Emma's ears, more like:

Mom, he's the one! He's amazing, I want to spend my life with him!

With her guard up, Emma immediately began bombarding their neighbor-the one who'd introduced Albert Rivera to Emily-for every scrap of information about him. She was determined to conduct a full background check.

The neighbor, swept up in Emma's enthusiasm, became convinced that Emily and Albert were already head over heels and practically engaged. Fired up, she spilled everything she knew.

Emma and the neighbor chatted so fervently that, by the end, they were nearly picking out names for Emily's future children.

If Emily had the slightest idea what was going on, she'd probably choke in disbelief and protest her innocence.

What she also didn't know was that, while she and Albert stood outside the

restaurant talking and exchanging numbers, someone nearby was quietly watching everything unfold.

Cynthia Rivera had just planned to duck into a cozy café or shop to wait for Tristan Davis to pick her up.

She never expected to spot Emily Blair outside a well-known romantic bistro, chatting practically flirting with a stranger.

She recognized the place; it was the city's famous date spot!

Seated by the picture window, Cynthia stared in shock, wide-eyed and practically buzzing with excitement as she kept her gaze locked on the scene across the street. When she saw Emily and the mystery man exchange contact info, Cynthia got so worked up she slapped the table, drawing annoyed looks from other patrons. Fumbling with her phone, she scrambled to "catch a cheater" on camera for her beloved Tristan Davis. But just as she raised her phone to start recording, Emily slipped into a car and drove off, leaving nothing behind but the car's taillights.

The video proved useless—just a shot of the anonymous man staring after the departing vehicle.

Cynthia groaned and smacked her forehead in regret.

Still fuming, she pulled up her chat with Tristan and was furious to realize he hadn't replied to any of her messages.

She typed furiously: *Tristan Davis, get over here already! I'm broke, starving, exhausted, and about to pass out!*

No answer.

She sent him her live location again. *Tristan Davis, I'm right here. Come pick me up, okay?*

At last, he finally replied: *Quit the drama. Go home yourself. No money? What about your phone, your cards—are you telling me you have nothing at all?*

Cynthia typed back, utterly self-assured: *Nope. I'm flat broke. My card's frozen, my account's empty—I'm seriously about to starve here!*