Smith's POV.

Emily poured herself another glass of red wine, the deep crimson liquid swirling in the glass as she tilted it to her lips. Her reading glasses rested on the bridge of her nose, and her keen eyes skimmed over the pages of a thick manuscript...some up-and-coming author her publishing house had just signed.

She looked so at ease in her cozy Hamptons home, legs tucked beneath her on the wide cream armchair, elegant in a charcoal turtleneck and worn jeans. The streaks of silver in her shoulder-length brown hair shone under the golden afternoon light that filtered through the tall windows. Outside, the trees swayed gently, leaves rustling...