Emily pressed her fingers to her forehead. “Don't look at me like that. There's really nothing going on between me and him."

Elizabeth's tone was razor-sharp. "Which 'him' are we talking about? This one? Or that one?"

Emily arched an eyebrow, her voice cool. "I have no idea what you're insinuating."

With nothing better to do, Elizabeth hopped up onto Emily's desk, leaning forward so their eyes met.

“You told me before that you and Albert Rivera were just putting on a show for your families, but don't you think you two have been seeing each other a bit too often lately?"

"Have we?” Emily replied, feigning nonchalance. "Isn't it all just work? Our companies are partnering up on that project-what choice do we have?"

Elizabeth lowered her voice conspiratorially. "But don't you think it's odd? Every time our teams have a meeting, Albert's there. Big things, small things he shows up in person, even when he doesn't have to. Sometimes, you and I don't even bother going. Isn't it a little strange?"

Emily kept her eyes on the spreadsheet in front of her, then slowly looked up. "Are you trying to say..."

She let the sentence hang. Elizabeth leaned in, whispering, “He's into you."

Emily rolled her eyes. "You're reading way too much into this."

Elizabeth straightened up, crossing her arms and scoffing. "Don't believe me? We can put it to the test."

"A test? Don't start with your nonsense. He's just a friend."

Elizabeth replied, feigning innocence, "Hey, I'm being serious for once. What's so nonsensical about it?"

Emily shot her a warning look. "Don't mess around. He's a client."

Elizabeth grinned. "Relax, I'm part of this company too, you know. I'm not about to sabotage a business partnership."

Elizabeth's expression was all sincerity, but Emily knew better than to try stopping her friend's wild imagination. She decided to just ignore her.

That evening, at the team dinner with Albert's company, Elizabeth gave her a surprise she'd never forget.

The moment the restaurant staff started carrying in armfuls of roses—nine hundred and ninety-nine of them-Emily felt a cold sense of dread creeping in.

There were too many people from both teams to fit into a private room, so the manager had pushed several tables together right in the heart of the restaurant. Platters of steaming hot crawfish, bowls of side dishes, and bottles of beer and soda crowded every inch of table space. The place was bustling and loud, one of the city's most popular crawfish spots.

But the roses—there were so many that several waiters had to carry them in at once, drawing every eye in the restaurant. Diners whipped out their phones, snapping photos as they watched with excited curiosity.

Emily was sitting next to Albert, facing the main entrance. The sea of red roses was carried straight toward her.

All around, coworkers paused mid-bite, setting their forks aside to stare.

Albert looked genuinely surprised. "That's a lot of roses. How many are there?" Elizabeth piped up, "Nine hundred and ninety-nine."

Emily shot her a pointed glare.

Albert raised an eyebrow at Elizabeth. "Ms. Wilson, how do you know that so precisely?"

Elizabeth simply smiled, meeting Emily's gaze with a mischievous glint. "Because they're for Ms. Blair."

The smile on Albert's lips froze for a split second before he recovered, his tone gentle. “Who is this passionate admirer of Ms. Blair's?"

Emily glared daggers at Elizabeth, who only responded by waggling her eyebrows and winking over and over.