Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 85

“There’s no need, really.”

“But it’s freezing in here. I’m cold,” Cecilia said, tugging her thin dress down over bare arms, shivering a little for effect.

Theodore had brought his jacket. The moment she spoke up, he slipped it off and draped it gallantly over her shoulders. “Here–wear mine.”

Emma wasn’t blind. Out of the corner of her eye, she clearly caught the smug little look Cecilia shot her as she pulled the jacket close.

Emma’s eyes stayed fixed on her book–she had no intention of giving Cecilia the satisfaction of a response.

But, of course, Cecilia wasn’t going to let things go so easily. She turned, voice syrupy sweet, and called out, “Emma, you don’t mind if I borrow Theo’s jacket, do you?” She even managed a theatrically anxious pout, as if she’d been gravely wronged.

Emma almost laughed. Was this performance for her benefit, or for Theodore’s?

She looked up and offeréd Cecilia a bright, unfazed smile. “Of course not. Why would I mind?” Honestly, after handing over the man, what difference did a jacket make?

“Thank you, Emma! You’re so sweet,” Cecilia gushed, eyes shining with feigned gratitude.

“No problem,” Emma said, already lowering her gaze back to the book.

“Cici.” Theodore’s voice was low and gentle.

Emma didn’t know what look he gave Cecilia, but she heard Cecilia drop her voice, sounding wounded and earnest. “Theo, I just want to get along with Emma, so when you go home, she’ll treat you better…”

Emma: What the actual hell?

Lines like that only work on clueless male leads in bad romance novels, but apparently, Theodore was no exception.

She didn’t even need to look to know what was going through Theodore–and his two sycophant friends‘–minds: Wow, Cici’s so thoughtful, so understanding…

God, all she wanted was to finish this flight in peace. Was that really so much to ask?

Unfortunately, Cecilia didn’t think so. She turned back, relentless.

10:52

Chapter 85

“Emma, what are you reading?” Cecilia craned her neck, peering over curiously.

Emma shut her book with a snap. “Just something to kill time.”

Cecilia let out a little gasp. “Wait, is that an untranslated novel? Emma, can you actually read it? That’s impressive!”

She made it sound like praise, but the glint in Cecilia’s eyes was all mockery. “Wow, Emma, who would’ve thought? You can read in the original language? Aren’t you an art major?”

Right on cue, Emma’s oh–so–supportive “good husband,” Theodore, piped up—joining in with the same derisive tone. “Understand it? Please. I’ve seen her English books;

she has to write out definitions for even the most basic words. She gets seventy

percent of the answers wrong!”

Mr. Whitman, get a grip. Even at her worst, Emma had never struggled with middle school vocabulary, and seventy percent wrong? That was just absurd.

“What?” Cecilia burst out laughing, not even pretending to hide her delight. “Emma’s studying for the IELTS? Does she think she’s actually going abroad?”

At the word “abroad,” Theodore’s eyes flickered, but he quickly recovered, grinning as he replied, “As if. There’s no way she’d ever go overseas. She’s just bored, studying for

fun.”

“Exactly,” Cecilia chimed in, nodding sagely. “How would Emma ever manage abroad? Honestly, never mind traveling–without you around, how would she even survive?”

Jared and Hanley, Theodore’s ever–loyal sidekicks, suddenly lost it, stifling their laughter until it burst out in guffaws. “Sorry, Theo, but this is too much. Emma studying for the IELTS? That’s like a eunuch training to be a gigolo–what’s the point? Absolutely priceless…”

For a moment, all four of them were laughing at her–even Theodore, looking right at Emma, grinning along.