I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing while Emma coached Youssef through the paparazzi line. It was hard to believe only a few months ago Emma had been unwittingly thrown into this world headfirst and now here she stood radiating at the center of it all like a natural born star.

The laugh did escape me in the end when the aide attempted to convince Emma to pose for some pictures alone. She refused, apparently deaf to the calls of the photographers. Did she even realize it was her name they were shouting, not mine?

The moment the words left her mouth, I could already begin to imagine Cynthia crafting "in this together" as the foundation's newest hashtag. Between Emma's ever-rising status and Cynthia's media know-how, I had no doubt it'd be trending by midnight.

Emma tugged suddenly at my elbow. "What are you smirking about, Tom?"

"Nothing," I chuckled. "Just enjoying being your arm candy is all."

She rolled her eyes but then directed her attention to the man at her other arm. As Emma launched into the next round of battle plans, my eyes scanned over the crowd gladly catching subtle glimpses of the additional security detail I had requested.

"Charlie!" Emma beamed as she dropped our arms to embrace my cousin. "It's been ages."

He squeezed her tightly in return, careful not to crush the silk petals on her dress. "You look breathtaking," he beamed down at her before glancing up and flashing a toothy grin between myself and Youssef. "Did I hear something about arm candy?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Tom was being ridiculous."

"Our Tom? Being anything other than sensible? No," he gushed theatrically. "I don't believe it."

His eyes flicked over Youssef again and Emma, this time catching it, released Charlie to reach out for her friend.

"Charlie, let me introduce you to my good friend, Youssef. He's a brilliant writer and he's here as Tom and my special guest this evening."

"How special," he smirked.

"Youssef," Emma continued, decidedly ignoring him. "This is Tom's cousin, Charlie."

Youssef bobbed his head. "Your highness."

"Please none of that," Charlie frowned momentarily before reaffixing his hallmark cheeky grin. "Any good friend of Emma's is a good friend of mine."

Emma glanced between the two of them, her grin widening.

"Well," I said after a moment. "Shall I find us some drinks?"

Emma dropped her hand from Youssef's arm. "I told Matilda I would find her when we arrived."

"Good luck in this crowd," Charlie quipped as he nodded to the sea of bodies swirling around us.

Emma merely sighed. "I promised her."

Youssef nudged her softly. "Speaking of promises..."

"Tom will stay with you, and I'll be back as soon as I can," she assured him with a sincere smile.

"C'mon, mate," I sighed as I clasped him on the shoulder. "Champagne does wonders to calm the nerves."

He affixed a tight smile but nonetheless nodded in acquiescence. Emma kissed us each on the cheek and, after Charlie whined about being left out, kissed him as well before disappearing into the flurry of the crowd.

***

"So, special guest?" Charlie asked over the rim of his glass.

Youssef arched his brows in my direction, as if asking how much of the truth I wished for my cousin to know.

I nodded in response. All of it.

"I'm a refugee. Emma thought—"

Charlie barked in laughter and directed his attention toward me. "Christ that woman is brilliant. And you were worried the gag rule would send her running."

My eyes widened slightly. "Charlie—"

"If you don't put a ring on her proper finger soon, lord knows Cynthia will."

I opened my mouth to retort, but Youssef beat me to it. "Loyalty doesn't espouse from a ring; it's rooted in a person's core."

Charlie's grin swept over Youssef. "Eloquent words from a future Hugo Award winner."

Charlie quickly changed subjects before Youssef's blush could flood his entire visage. "How many interviews have you done so far?"

"Tonight?" Youssef glanced over at me, but I shrugged. "Three, I think."

"And before tonight?" Charlie prompted.

"Two, if you count my lunch date with Emma."

"Date?"

"A purely professional meeting," I sighed as I let my gaze lift upwards to the ornate ceiling gaudily covered in gold leaf.

The hall itself was a gilded treasure itself alone but made more so by the gala's lavish decorations of glittering crystal chandeliers and massive bouquets of plump flowers. I had always been aware of the extravagance of wealth paraded at these events, but it wasn't until Emma I truly started to understand the absurdity of it. Granted this gala wasn't strictly charitable in nature as its self-proclaimed purpose was in 'celebration of the arts,' its self-promotion and aggrandizing was familiar enough to make me uncomfortable.

I was almost relieved to feel the pressure of Cynthia's clawed nails digging in to my arm fully expecting to be given some task to distract myself. Instead, I felt an internal alarm ring out as I recognized Emma's—not my sister's—taught smile.

"What's wrong?"

"I need to talk to you," she ground out through gritted teeth.

"Is it Matilda? Did she say something to you?"

Emma ignored my questions and turned instead to Charlie and Youssef, her expression instantaneously softening.

"Youssef, would you mind terribly if Charlie looked after you while I steal Tom for a moment?"

"Someone's in trouble," I heard Charlie sing under his breath.

Emma shot him a withering glare and then quickly sent an apologetic smile to her friend. "It will just take a moment—"

"Go on," he nodded in understanding and then hesitated before adding: "I have a feeling I'm in in good hands."

The corner of Charlie's smile quirked upwards, but he said nothing in response.

"You better be," she said in warning to Charlie before dragging me off behind her.

"Ems—"

"Thomas, how could you!" She hissed once she had deposited the two of us in a side alcove. For my own sake, I didn't bother to point out the acoustics produced a horrible echo.

"How could I what?" I retorted, keeping my voice low.

"Really?" She demanded, crossing her arms. "We're going to play that game?"

"I don't—"

"Fine, then why are there bulking men with earpieces following me? Hm?"

My eyes flicked shut as my chest deflated in a sigh. "Ems—"

"Funny you should say nothing—"

I tried to cut in but she railroaded straight through my admittedly lackluster efforts.

"Because I asked one of these lovely gentlemen—"

"You spoke with them?" I startled.

"They're humans, Tom. Not robots." She bit out. "It is possible to converse with them."

"You know I didn't mean—" I started to defend myself, but she cut me off.

"Tom, why didn't you tell me there was a security threat?"

"I didn't want you to worry!" I exclaimed, momentarily forgetting the echo.

"Tom—"

"And I had it handled," I added hastily.

"You are unbelievable!" She rounded.

I grabbed her hand and pulled her out the alcove and down a corridor busy with tuxedoed staff.

"Really, Emma, I did!" I insisted as I returned to my normal volume. "I've consulted with our security team—"

"We have a security team now?"

"The foundation's security team," I clarified. "They've been monitoring the situation the entire time, and they've assured me there is nothing to worry about. It's just some racists blustering taunts."

"But it's enough to warrant extra security?"

"According to the insurance company."

"And you didn't think I should know any of this before asking my friend to stand up for us in front of all of those cameras?" She demanded.

"Ems," I said gently. "Youssef isn't a stranger to xenophobic bigots. He knew what he was getting in to when you asked for his help."

Emma worried her lip as she considered my words. "And when were you planning on telling me?"

I hesitated as I struggled to find the right words to explain it all to her. "I... you were writing again. I didn't want anything to distract you from that. I didn't... you've been so happy!"

She opened her mouth to speak, but I wasn't finished.

"And before you accuse me of hiding this from you: I didn't do it out of fear of our contract. I did it because I didn't want to you to stop smiling. Things have been so good! I didn't want idiot bigots to get in the way of that."

"Tom, I..." Emma sighed heavily. "I'm not a porcelain doll."

"I know that!"

"Then why do you treat me like one?" She rounded.

"I don't!" I exclaimed defensively.

"You do when you keep things from me because you're afraid I can't handle them!"

I shook my head adamantly. "I didn't say I didn't think you could handle it."

Emma groaned in frustration. "That is total bull—"

"I just didn't want you to have to handle it." I swooped her hands into mine and gave them a gentle squeeze, as if begging her to understand the meaning of my words. "Ever since we've gone public, all of the burden of the media has been piling up on your shoulders. I thought it only fair I take a turn."

Emma tugged on my hands and tilted her chin to catch my gaze. "The second we stop communicating and working together," she whispered, "is the second we stop being partners."

My throat constricted as I felt my heart thundering against my ribs. As if feeling it too, Emma squeezed my hand in reassurance.

"You said once that you wanted me to tell you when something was bothering me because you wanted to more than just my boyfriend. Well I want that, too, Tom. I want to be your partner, but you have to let me."

Relief at her words washed over me, as I inhaled a deep breath and squeezed her hands in response.

"Look," Emma sighed down at our feet. "I know I'm not officially part of the foundation, but it's a part of you and I want to know about it."

"You will," I nodded. "From now on. Promise."

She grinned up at me. "Good."

I hesitated before broaching the subject. "I have been thinking..."

Emma glanced up at me at me expectantly through her heavy eyelashes.

Screw it, I thought with a sigh. "You have been in quite a few papers recently. Perhaps it is time we think about getting you your own personal security."

Emma snorted and dropped my hands. "Oh please. Now you're really being ridiculous."

"Emma—" I started to protest, but she cut me off with a glib smile.

"Sorry," she practically sang. "But that's not in our contract."

Before I could protest further, Emma caught my chin in the crook of her finger and pressed her lips firmly against mine.

♥️