It was obvious from the first second Amalia saw him that she wasn't quite sure who he was, and Emmett found himself breaking out into a bashful smile, embarrassed for her: he had been in that position himself plenty of times, people who he'd met once at market expecting him to know every intimate detail of their lives later.
"Emmett. Emmett Palmer. My family owns--or, uh, owned -- a farm. We...I...trade here sometimes." It had been a while since he'd confused his words so, distraction from Amalia's faulty memory catching him off-guard. "You're Amalia, right? Sell a lotta cakes today? I'm sure plenty of people wanted them. Dancin's hungry work, and y'stuff always looks good."
Emmett
There's a saying where I come from
Playing 'round with fire gets you burned
Well, I'll wear my third degrees
And my heart upon my sleeve
Playing 'round with fire gets you burned
Well, I'll wear my third degrees
And my heart upon my sleeve
