Micah walked toward the entrance of the fashion department when he heard Emile's completely nonsensical claim. He paused and threw a look at him over his shoulder. "Come again?"
Emile met Micah's eyes. "Why do you let him boss you around? The Micah I know, the one who lashed out at me because I misunderstood his friend as his servant, would never be this easygoing. He is treating you like a criminal under surveillance."
Micah tilted his head. "You know he is your actual uncle, right?"
"Yeah. So what? He is being a total control freak right now. Who tells their nephew to spy on their partner?"
"Oh," Micah smirked. "So you are just complaining because of the job. For a second, I thought you were on my side."
"Can I even pick a side?" Emile exclaimed. "One is my fearsome uncle, the other is my devilish friend."
Micah shook his head, amused. "Aren't we a match made in heaven then?"
"Who's a match made in heaven?" a voice asked behind him.
