Reality crashed back at JFK. Paparazzi flashbulbs exploded. "Mr. Sterling! Is it true you slept your way to—"
Daniel shielded Emma, his grip bruising. "Not. One. Word."
The office was worse. Overnight, she'd become either:
1) A gold-digging harlot (Finance Dept.)
2) A feminist traitor (Women in Business chat)
3) "So brave" (HR's pitying looks)
Victoria struck at noon.
"Cute tan." She dropped a tabloid on Emma's desk—Bali Sexcapades! splashed beside beach photos. "Though I'd have picked a better swimsuit for my career-ending moment."
Daniel materialized, ice in his tone. "Miss Pratt, your clearance's been revoked. Security will escort you out."
As Victoria sputtered, Emma stood. "Wait." She faced the gawking office. "Yes, we're together. No, I won't apologize."
The silence shattered when Intern Jenny dropped a stack of files—on purpose. "Oops. Clumsy feminist me."
Daniel's choked laugh warmed Emma's bones.