Page 50 of Protected By My Best Friend's Brother

I pause at Sophie’s door for one last look. Emma stands on the fitting platform again, Sophie adjusting her hemline, both of them laughing about something. The sight fills me with certainty.

The old Lucas ran from complications and difficult emotions.

The new Lucas is running toward them, arms open.

Tonight, we face the world together.

Chapter Eighteen

Emma

“Stop fidgeting with your presentation notes,” Sophie commands while making final adjustments to my hair. “You look amazing and know the sustainability integration strategy backward and forwards.”

I resist the urge to recheck my reflection. The midnight blue gown flows like water, making me feel more elegant than clumsy for once. My hair is swept up in some complicated arrangement that took Sophie an hour to perfect, with delicate pearl pins that catch the light when I move.

“What if I trip? Or spill something? Or accidentally insult the Johnsons’ entire business model while explaining why our implementation timeline beats Brighton’s?”

“Emma.” Sophie grips my shoulders, turning me to face her. Her expression is firm but affectionate – the look she’s perfected through years of seeing me through crises. “You’ve got this. You revolutionized their entire analytics system. And...” Her smile turns mischievous. “Wait until you see Lucas’s face when he gets a look at you.”

Right on cue, the doorbell rings.

“That’s him,” Sophie says, already heading for the door. “I’ll get it. You make your entrance down the stairs like we practiced.”

“We didn’t practice—Sophie!”

But she’s already gone, leaving me to navigate the stairs in heels while carrying a mental database of implementation schedules and sustainability matrices—perfect.

I take a steadying breath, smoothing down the silk of my dress. The fabric feels cool against my fingers, expensive in a way that still seems foreign despite years of professional success. I’m not the awkward intern who once spilled coffee on James Walker anymore, but tonight—with so much at stake—that familiar flutter of insecurity returns.

I reach for the small clutch Sophie insisted matched the dress perfectly. Inside is a folded paper with my lucky pen—the one I used when I first developed the sustainability algorithm that caught James Walker’s attention. Some habits die hard. Tonight isn’t just about Lucas and me as a couple; it’s about proving my professional worth in the face of Brighton’s challenge. It’s about showing everyone that my work stands on its own, regardless of who I’m dating.

I hear voices below—Sophie’s theatrical greeting and Lucas’s low rumble that still sends a thrill through me. Taking a deep breath, I step out onto the landing.

The conversation stops.

Lucas stands in the foyer, devastatingly handsome in a black tuxedo that transforms him from CEO to magazine cover model. But it’s his expression that captures me. He’s looking at me like I’m a sunrise over the lake, something precious and completely unexpected.

“Hi,” I manage, carefully descending the stairs without tripping. Each step is deliberate—like approaching a complex presentation.

“Hi,” he breathes, then seems to shake himself. “You look... magnificently magnificent.”

A laugh bubbles up, tension breaking. “Really? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Got you to smile, didn’t I?” His eyes crinkle at the corners, that special expression reserved just for me.

His gaze is so warm, so focused, that I almost miss Sophie’s dramatic eye roll.

“As adorable as this is,” she says, checking her watch, “you’re going to be late. And Emma has notecards in her purse that need reviewing.”

“You put sustainability notecards in your evening bag?” Lucas asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Only the essential ones,” I defend, feeling warmth rise in my cheeks. “Just the implementation timeline and efficiency metrics. And maybe the comparative analysis of Brighton’s integration strategy versus ours.”

“Of course,” he says solemnly, though amusement dances in his eyes. “Wouldn’t want to face the Johnsons without a color-coded analysis of competitor weaknesses.”

“Laugh all you want, but those analyzes saved your quarterly presentation last month.”

“True.” He offers his arm. “Shall we go dazzle them with our combined brilliance?”

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