Emily's face flushed instantly, and nerves fluttered in her chest. Of course, her sche had been only to use Grayson as a pawn to provoke Dylan rcer. There was no way she could admit her true motives to Grayson. In fact, by this point, Emily had already swept Dylan out of her mind. All she could think about now was the idea of "when a fake romance becos real."
Originally, she'd assud Grayson was just another penniless nobody—who would have guessed he was actually that top-tier heir? Why not seize this opportunity? If things went well, maybe she could actually win him over.
"So, uh..." Emily hesitated, then launched into her improvised explanation. "Actually... after how I treated you at the bank last ti, I've felt terrible. I was so shallow, so materialistic. I decided I needed to change. So I shifted my criteria for a boyfriend: no more focusing on wealth—just soone honest and kind. I figured a poorer guy would be more caring. So I asked my cousin to find a nice, humble guy—soone without money, but with a big heart. I don't care about his bank balance, as long as we're happy together."
Emily's quick thinking impressed even herself—she managed to weave a plausible motive on the spot.
"Really?" Grayson's lips curved into a faint smile as he studied her.
"Mr. Cole, please believe . I swear everything I've said is true." Emily's tone was resolute. Her words sounded all too familiar to Grayson—Sienna had used the exact sa phrasing that very morning, "I swear everything I've said is true." He stifled a quiet chuckle at the coincidence.
"All right, I'll believe you," he said. "But now that you know who I really am... I don't suppose I'm exactly the right fit for you."
Emily's heart lurched—there was no way she could let him forget she was supposed to be pursuing Dylan. No, she was absolutely determined to cling to Grayson like a dog with a bone. If she could lock him in, her life would change forever; becoming the wife of a top-tier heir? She'd dread of it for years.
"Mr. Cole, I beg you—please play along with , just this once," Emily implored, her voice quavering. "There's a man nad Dylan rcer who's been chasing after relentlessly. He's a manager at his firm, so he struts around like he owns the world, pressuring with all sorts of promises. He does have money, but I'm not looking for wealth anymore; I'm looking for character. rcer is arrogant, overbearing, and has terrible morals—I can't stand him. But my parents adore him, and they've been pushing to date him, so I had no choice but to ask my cousin to find a humble guy to pretend to be my boyfriend."
As she spoke, a few tears slipped down Emily's cheeks. "Mr. Cole, I know I don't deserve you, but please—I just need you to play my boyfriend for a while. If you can make Dylan back off, that's all I ask. Please..."
She lowered her head, the tears shimring on her lashes. Already known for her delicate beauty, she now looked like a tragic heroine straight out of a tearjerker.
Grayson hesitated for a heartbeat, then softened. "All right," he finally agreed, though his tone was gentle.
Emily's spirits soared. "Thank you—thank you so much!" she gushed.
"However," Grayson said quietly, "you mustn't tell Quinn my true identity."
Emily nodded emphatically, as if the pact were sealed in stone. Of course, she never intended to reveal Grayson's real background to her cousin. Even with sisters—or cousins—won have their own sches when it cos to n. Quinn was such a gullible fool: she'd never suspected Mr. Cole was anything other than so ordinary, awkward guy. If Emily confessed who he truly was, Quinn might swoon over him and beco a direct rival. That simply could not happen—after all, Quinn and Grayson often saw each other in tennis club events. She had to eliminate any competition.
Besides, as far as Emily was concerned, this was just a pretend relationship. But she understood better than anyone that feelings develop over ti. If she seized this chance to shower Grayson with sweet words and subtle hints, maybe she could truly win him over. Haha—Mr. Cole, you're mine!
With their agreent in place, neither of them returned imdiately to the table. Emily lingered for a mont, then slipped away. Only after she'd been gone a while did Grayson wash and dry his hands, then head back to the table.
"See? I told you—he took forever," Quinn snapped the mont she caught sight of him. "I said to go remind them about our food ages ago. What's wrong with you? The dishes must have arrived ten minutes ago!"
Actually, Quinn had her own little performance in mind. In front of her cousin, she wanted to show off. It was as if she were saying, "Look at —don't I command him like a king? Isn't it impressive?"
"Quinn," Emily interjected, her brows knitting into a frown. Then, smiling graciously, she turned to Grayson. "All right, let's sit and eat."
As the three of them finally dug in, Quinn wasted no ti continuing her routine: one minute she'd order Grayson to pass her the pepper shaker, the next minute she'd have him fetch napkins. To her, Grayson was nothing more than a servant—after all, within the tennis club, he was always fetching tennis balls for her.
Grayson simply complied, never making a scene. But Emily's brow remained furrowed. Her cousin was playing with fire—how dare Quinn treat a top-tier heir like a servant!
"Um, since we're all here, what do you both think of this arrangent? Cousin, what do you think of Grayson?" Finally, after finishing their al and ordering drinks, Quinn glanced at Emily and gave her a sly wink.
"Hm, Grayson's fine," Emily said, her heart firmly convinced of how wonderful he was, though she kept her voice asured and cool.
"Okay, Grayson," Quinn then asked, "what do you think of my cousin?" Of course, to Quinn's mind, this was a re formality—of course he'd say he approved—yet she had to go through the motions.
"Um...she's nice," Grayson responded with a nod. Since he'd agreed to pretend to be Emily's boyfriend, he was simply playing along.
"Great—seems you two really hit it off," Quinn said with a self-satisfied smirk, looking down at Grayson. "But let tell you, my cousin's been spoiled her whole life—she cos from a wealthy family. If you want to be with her, you're going to be aiming way above your station. Keep that in mind, okay?"
She shot Emily a triumphant grin, as if saying, "Look, cousin, I only want what's best for you." Yet internally, Emily was boiling with resentnt. If Grayson were truly just so nobody, fine—no harm done. But now that she knew he was that top-tier heir, she would happily throw herself at him. And to see her cousin belittling him so openly...she felt her blood boil.
"All right, enough about aiming high or low," Emily said hastily, rising to her feet. She could not reveal Grayson's identity, so she had to smooth things over.
"From now on, you listen to my cousin's every word. Whatever she asks, you do without question. Got it?" Quinn shot at Grayson, her voice absolutely authoritative.
Emily's frown deepened.
"Also," Quinn continued, "while you two are 'dating,' don't get any ideas—no hugging, no touching. Got it?"
Yes, Quinn knew only too well that Emily was only using their "relationship" as a ploy to reel in Dylan. Once Dylan was sufficiently jealous, they'd discard Grayson like yesterday's trash. So by laying down these rules now, Quinn made sure there would be an excuse to dump him later.
"You an...my cousin and I can't even hold each other's waist or hold hands, but other n can?" Grayson asked, processing the absurdity of Quinn's decree.
"That's pretty much it," Quinn declared unabashedly.
Smack! Without thinking, Emily slapped her cousin across the face. At that mont, Emily couldn't hold back any longer. Though she and Quinn shared a close bond, Emily desperately wanted to win Grayson's affection. If she could secure this golden match, her life would transform overnight—becoming the wife of that heir? Nothing mattered more!
Therefore, when she heard Quinn's careless insults and deaning commands toward Grayson—insults that implied no other man could touch her except Dylan—Emily's panic surged. Cousin, you're absolutely sabotaging !
"Enough, Quinn!" Emily cried, stepping between Grayson and her cousin, leaning close to him as if protecting him. "Grayson is my boyfriend now—show him so respect!"
Suddenly, the café crackled with tension. A few nearby patrons glanced over at their table. Several waitstaff hovered nearby, ready to step in at the first sign of any further conflict.
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