It felt like I'd left a vital part of myself as I walked out of the university, and yet, I wouldn't complain–hell, I hadn't complained at all since I decided to quit. Callan and Gideon had tried to talk me out of it, but once I had decided on something, I didn't back down.

My sister hadn't asked me to take over our father's business, and she would never do it either. Still, I knew her well enough to know when she was hurting, and I was programmed to make her feel better–or at least do something that won't make it hurt even more.

In her mind, all that would be left of Robert was his enterprise, and she didn't want to let that part of him go.

While I hated that I would start working there, my father was fucking thrilled. God, he'd tried to get me to quit my job the second I got it and instead work for him. All I wanted to do was sell the shitty company to the first buyer, not caring if they ran it to the ground.

There was one positive thing with me being the big boss, though. I'd be able to decide what to do with it and in which direction I wanted it to go in. At least, I would get to do something good with it.

Father was a shitty boss who climbed to the top by sketchy means–I didn't need proof to know what kind of man he was. He was a white supremacist–which he would never admit to. I knew without having to check that he'd only hired the bare minimum of people of color, and he only did that to not be chased down by lawsuits.

Damn, that man was sickening. Rebecca stayed naïve to that side of him just because she desperately wanted a parent. If she truly knew who he really was–with hollow heart and all–she didn't let on. My sister was a good person, with no hate in her whatsoever, so maybe that was why she couldn't even hate him, even when he deserved it.

But yeah, that was definitely something I would change when I was in charge of Wright Enterprise. I'd let go of the racist old bastards and hire those who not only needed the job but deserved it, as opposed to those assholes. I'd be generous with the pay and not hoard the money like Robert had done. I'd make life better for others.

Shaking off my thoughts, I looked at the watch on my wrist, seeing that it wasn't long until Emma was done with her shift at the café.

I hurried to my car and drove off. My mood lifted the closer I got to Queens and the closer I got to her. She was like a remedy to help with the chaos currently going on in my life.

It was cloudy outside, and after the warm weather we'd had lately, it felt like a blessing. The temperature was still high enough, but with the sun blocked, it wasn't overly hot.

The drive took a while like it always did when driving in the city. By the time I parked the car, I was stressing, afraid I would be late to pick her up.

My heart stopped as I looked into the brightly lit café, seeing Emma laughing with her co-worker. God, she was breathtaking–even in that clown costume. When I saw her smile at Kevin, I felt jealousy slither into my chest. It was stupid, I knew, but I wanted that beautiful smile of hers to be directed at me.

It had been too long since I'd seen it. I wonder if she had missed me as much as I'd missed her. Damn it, I needed to get a hold of myself; I sounded obsessed.

But that's because I was, I thought. So yeah, I loved being around her, but it wasn't like I needed to be around her. There was a difference. Even I wasn't that creepy.

Emma and Kevin walked out of the building together. He locked the door while she made her way to me. The smile she gave to me was brighter than the one she'd given to her friend, making my heart dance in my chest.

I got out of the car and swept her in a hug. "Damn, it's good to see you again, gorgeous," I muttered into her hair.

She squeezed me back harder than I dared squeeze her. "It's good to see you too. I've missed you." My heart felt light from her words, and I couldn't help the huge smile of relief.

Holding her for a few more seconds, I let her go and urged her into the car. Then I went around to my side and got in. "Come on, let's get some food in you. What do you feel like eating?" I asked.

"Um, I don't know. I'd eat just about anything right now." As if on cue, her stomach started growling, making her cheeks redden. She was always so cute when she blushed.

"Okay then," I chuckled. I did have a restaurant in mind if she didn't know what she wanted. It was always good to have a backup. I learned from having a sister that women could be indecisive when it came to food, and that was putting it mildly. I can't even count how many times I'd tried to get Rebecca to choose what kind of dinner she wanted or which restaurant she wanted to go to.

"Want to go home and change first?" I asked. I really didn't care what she wore, but Emma was a self-conscious young woman.

"Ah, shit, I was supposed to take a shift with me to the café, but I totally forgot. But yeah, I would love to change clothes, this material itches," she groaned and started scratching on her thigh on top of the dress.

"I don't mind at all. You live close by anyway," I assured her.

Taking a quick trip to her apartment, we were back on the road. She'd chosen a pair of jeans and a blouse. The jeans hugged her curves and made her ass look deliciously spankable. My hands itched just looking at her generous backside.

Fuck me, I thought, she has no idea how beautiful she is. And I'd be damned if I didn't tell it to her. She needed to hear what we thought of her. So, I told her. Emma thanked me, but it was clear she didn't know how to act to compliments. Before we were through, my friends and I would change that.

We made our way to a cozy restaurant in Brooklyn. They had more "homemade" kind of food, rather than the typical restaurant food. Someday, I would cook dinner for Emma, but I needed some practice first. I could make a decent macaroni and cheese, but I wanted to impress her, and mac and cheese wasn't the way to do it–especially after she'd tasted Gideon's cooking. No matter how much I practiced, I could never compete with him in the kitchen.

Getting a table, we sat down in comfortable silence as we went through the menu. I'd been craving some spaghetti and meatballs, and I knew they served good ones here.

"Found something you want?" I asked when I'd made my decision.

"Yeah, I think I'll try the spaghetti Bolognese."

I enjoyed spending time with Emma outside of the bedroom–and playroom. She was so vibrant and had an entirely new way of thinking than anyone I'd met before. She was aware of how the mind worked and how it could affect the body. It was actually quite interesting to hear what she had to say.

"You see, the brain controls which kinds of signals it will send out to the body. Say, if I thought about how awful it was to be surrounded by strangers every time I was out of the house. I'd think they were making fun of me, that they were judging me on how I dressed, looked, and acted. Over time, the brain would send signals to my body because of the negative thought pattern I'd created. My heart would start pounding like crazy, my body would shake and sweat, that kind of stuff. All because I taught myself that it was scary to be with strangers. Each time the anxiety kicked in, it only reinforced that it was, in fact, scary," she told me as she opened up about her social anxiety.

"Think of it this way, we can teach our mind to react based on what we both think subconsciously and consciously. If we think negatively, we'll trigger the brain into sending out signals to the body, giving us a physical reaction, like adrenalin for example. Adrenalin is basically the body telling us we're in danger, right? But in an anxiety attack, we're not really in danger, we're just tricking our brain to think we are."

Yeah, this woman was indeed special. It amazed me how intelligent she was and how strong she was to conquer a mental disorder. That was no small feat.

She talked about exposure therapy and forced herself into situations she wasn't comfortable with, only to prove to herself that it wasn't something to be scared of.

I didn't even need to talk much throughout our dinner. I only had to listen. It was clear Emma had a considerable interest in the brain and how it worked, and I was intrigued to hear all her thoughts and ideas she had about it.

"So, where are we going?" Emma asked after I'd paid for our meal. I'd seen her eying the receipt, but I was happy when she let me pay without any objections. Our girl was learning how much it meant to us to take care of her, and damn if that didn't make me pleased.

"When we first met, I advised you to visit Desire's Den often in the beginning. I know we've kept you plenty busy, but I figured it was time to make you more comfortable at the club."