When I first read Grandma Vale's email asking me to make Emil my lover, I wasn't exactly happy. Actually, I was this close to replying with a single, sincere question:

"Why?"

But in the end, I couldn't bring myself to hit send. Because I already knew, no matter how much I tried to refuse, what Grandma wanted would still be what Grandma wanted. If I got stubborn with her, she'd get even more stubborn and start using those guilt trips she knew I could never say no to.

Reflecting on it now, perhaps being hard-headed does run in the family. Take my son and me, for example. We argued all the time simply because we were both too stubborn to give in. But Grandma? Grandma was on a completely different level. If anyone had truly mastered the art of breaking someone to their knees with pure stubbornness, it was her.

But honestly, who wouldn't be stressed by that kind of request? What did she expect? That I would just suddenly turn gay on command? She knows I've never been comfortable with the idea of men liking men, but she still insists. Yes, fine, I understand her point. Grandma wants me to have someone who will take care of me, someone who will love me, especially now that I'm getting older. Aside from that, it has been fifteen years since Margarette and I divorced. Since then, I haven't dated anyone, not a single person. But that doesn't mean I should suddenly jump into a relationship just because I've been single for too long.

And definitely not start considering men as an option.

But Emil? Really? Emil is the one she wants for me?

Okay, don't get me wrong. It's not like I'm against Emil. First of all, everything Grandma says about him is true—he's kind, patient, and he somehow knows exactly how to deal with me when I'm stressed or acting like a pain in the ass. Additionally, Emil has been part of our family for a long time. He was only fifteen when Grandma Vale took him in after his parents passed away. Since then, he's been trying to repay that kindness by serving our family without ever asking for anything in return. Technically, Emil never charged a single cent for all the work he did as our butler, which, of course, drove Grandma crazy. She practically forced him to accept a salary, but even then, he still acted like he owed us something. Becoming my personal assistant was his way of "making up for it," and I'll admit—I've never met anyone as efficient or ridiculously competent as Emil.

But that doesn't mean he should be pushing himself on me just because grandma asked us to, or worse, that I should start forcing myself to feel something for him.

So, to protect Emil from Grandma's...well, creative matchmaking methods, I ended up drafting a contract, with clauses and several sets of guidelines that both of us would have to follow:

Rule number one was simple: no one can know about our agreement or this so-called relationship. We both had to keep the entire arrangement strictly confidential. No friends, no coworkers, no extended family (especially not my son, Eric) should know about this setup.

Rule number two was common sense: we could only act affectionate when Grandma Vale was around. That meant any holding hands or whatever "couple-like" nonsense she wanted to see—fine, we'd do it, but only in front of her. The moment she wasn't watching, we would be back to normal. I know Emil, he's a very professional man, so this rule wouldn't be difficult for him at all.

Rule number three was my personal bias, because it protected us both in this fake relationship. It states that no physical advances shall be made without prior consent. Hugging, holding hands, or any "intimate" nonsense was off-limits. The only exception was if it became absolutely necessary to make our act convincing for Grandma Vale. Anything beyond that? Absolutely not going to happen.

Rule number four was for me a standard even for genuine relationships: neither of us could interfere in the other's personal life. No prying into private matters, no trying to influence decisions, relationships, or daily activities. Emil's life was his, and mine was mine.

However, Rule number five was a bit trickier.

How do you even tell Emil that he can't fall in love with me?

I knew for myself that I wouldn't get carried away by our pretense. But Emil? I worried about him. He'd been with us for so long, and I'd never heard of him being involved with anyone else, so there was no way to know for sure that I was "safe" with him. It wasn't a matter of trust, no...this isn't really the issue here. I trusted Emil completely, but I didn't want to hurt him. I treated him like a brother, and what I was about to ask of him was already a lot.

So, in case he started to fall for me, I needed to make it clear from the start that making our fake relationship real wasn't an option. I couldn't risk losing what we already had, and I wasn't going to let Emil lose me either, just because he developed some sort of feelings I could never return. It would hurt me deeply to see him in pain if that ever happened...and my conscience couldn't bear the thought of him working for me while carrying such a burden.

So, this was for him.

"I hope the little shoulder massage I gave you helped, my lord..." Emil had just given me a quick massage on my shoulders, and it actually did help. Finally, I had a moment to think about what we should do next.

"Thank you", I said, my shoulders feeling so much lighter that it was almost as if I could barely feel them at all.

"Is there anything else you need from me, my lord?"

I was slightly taken aback, but after a moment, I answered, "I just want you to pack your things."

I could clearly see the quite shock in Emil's eyes.

"You're coming with me to Grandma's private villa," I explained before he could misunderstand and think I was casting him aside because he's jobless. His only job was to be my pretend lover. "I've filed for indefinite leave. Eric will temporarily take over the company so I can take care of Grandma, and I need you there. It's the perfect time to carry out our pretense of being lovers."

I saw Emil take a deep breath, yet his expression remained calm, betraying none of the surprise I expected.

"If that's what you wish, my lord. Shall I help you pack your things?"

"Yes, please," I replied, turning my attention back to the documents piled on my desk.

After that, Emil nodded and started preparing to leave. But then, for some unknown reason, I suddenly called him out and asked, "Have you read the contract I gave you?"

He turned toward me and replied politely, "Yes, my lord. That's what I've been doing all morning."

"Do you have any...questions about the contract?"

He paused for a moment, clearly thinking, then he said, "I don't have any questions right now, my lord. The contract is clear, as expected of you, of course."

"Good."

It felt strange that I was the one asking Emil about the contract. Was I really worried about how he'd react to what I'd written? Or... was there something else I was hoping to get from him? Judging by his calm response, it didn't seem like it. Well, that's Emil for you. I knew he wouldn't be foolish enough to misunderstand anything in that contract—unlike the temporary secretary who had replaced him.

Finally, I decided to dismiss him, letting him attend to other tasks.

"Okay, you may go," I said.

"Thank you, my lord," he replied politely.

I was about to get back to work when a thought suddenly crossed my mind.

Could the reason I'm struggling with item no. 5 in the contract be that I don't actually know Emil as well as I thought I did?

A sudden twinge of unease hit me. I've been with Emil for over twenty years, yet in reality, I know very little about him. What if Grandma suddenly asks me about Emil? What would I say? Not only would I look foolish in front of my own grandmother, but I'd also lose credibility if I couldn't answer her questions.

There was only one solution to that problem.

I quickly grabbed my cellphone and dialed his number. It rang only a few times before Emil answered.

"Yes, Lord Robert? Do you need something?"

"Are you free tonight?" I asked.

There was a brief pause as I heard him check his calendar.

"I don't really have anything else to do except pack our clothes," he replied.

"Good," I said. "Then I'll make a reservation for dinner at the Atlantic Prairie Hotel at six. Can you join me? I'd like to take you out."

There was a long pause before he answered. For a moment, I thought he might refuse, but then he said, "Okay, as you wish, my lord."

Then after that. Emil hung up the call.

After he hung up, I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling. The weight on my shoulders came crashing back, and it was heavier than before.

"It's just dinner..." I muttered to myself, "... there's nothing wrong with dinner, right?" I whispered, even though I knew the question wouldn't answer itself. That's why I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, just to help me steady my racing thoughts.

And yet, a strange, uneasy excitement was starting to bubble inside me. It was the first time I'd genuinely felt eager to get to know Emil better. Then I realized, there was a part of me that couldn't wait to see where learning more about him might lead.

And somewhere deep down, I had a feeling tonight would change everything.