She gathered a loose stack of papers and placed it beside the binder. "You don't have to tell me everything," she said, "but you don't have to pretend with me either." Noah looked at the photograph of her father above the table. "I wish telling you the truth were as easy as driving you home."
Emma's expression changed. "Emma," he began, then stopped because he had not prepared to see her afraid. She waited, watching him more carefully than she had watched the lease documents. Outside, a black sedan pulled to the curb, and Daniel Brooks stepped out carrying a leather portfolio and the look of a man who had been trying to avert a disaster all morning.
Daniel had called Noah eight times. Victor Hail had told the board that Reed Global had personally approved the acquisition, and a press release announcing the project was scheduled for the following morning. More troubling, Victor had circulated a supposed confirmation email bearing Noah's name that Daniel believed had never been sent. Daniel had tried to stop the announcement through counsel, but the legal department needed Noah's immediate authorization to challenge the representations publicly.
He entered the diner, scanned the room, and approached the table without registering that Emma was sitting beside the man he had come to find. "Mr. Reed, I'm sorry to interrupt," Daniel said. "Mr. Noah Reed, chairman of Reed Global Holdings, the board has been trying to reach you all evening and most of this morning." He set the portfolio down, then looked at Emma's face and realized his mistake.
Noah stood so quickly his chair scraped the floor. "Daniel, not now." But the words had already reached Emma, and something in her expression went very still. Daniel continued only because the situation demanded it. "Sir, Victor Hail is telling the board you've personally approved the acquisition. He has scheduled a press conference for tomorrow morning."
Emma looked from Daniel's polished shoes to Noah's familiar face and finally to the company name on the portfolio. She knew Reed Global from the notices taped along the block and from the newspaper articles she had been collecting for the tenant binder. Her mind assembled facts with a speed that made her stomach hurt. The careful questions, the calls, the sudden interest in leases, the expensive watch he had once concealed beneath his sleeve, the uncertainty around his work.
"You're not a taxi driver," she said. Noah turned to her. "I am a taxi driver." Her face tightened with something worse than anger. "Don't do that. Don't make this sound like a joke."
"Emma, please let me explain." She stared at him, waiting. "Who are you?" Noah looked past her toward Lorraine, who had emerged from the kitchen after hearing the change in their voices.
"My name is Noah Reed," he said. "I own Reed Global Holdings, and yes, I'm a billionaire." The word settled into the restaurant with a strange, unreal weight. Mr. Jenkins, sitting two stools away, stopped lifting his coffee cup, and Lorraine gripped the counter as though the room had shifted beneath her feet.
Emma stood slowly. "You let me tell you about my mother's debt. You let me worry about ten dollars for a taxi ride." Her voice shook, though she refused to lower it. "You watched us struggle while you knew you could buy this entire street."