EMILY

I'm screwed.

I fell to my bed and stared blankly at the ceiling.

Alex asked us to meet for dinner. According to him, we barely knew each other. Excuse me? Did he forget the contract? I didn't need to know anything about him; well, I do because he's a bit mysterious, but I don't care to know what he does in his free time, his favorite color, or his favorite food, and he also shouldn't care to know mine.

Except he knew that I was the woman he had a meeting with. I almost revealed my identity today.

Maybe I should just tell him the truth, come clean, and...