Emily frowned when Eleanor said she didn't think her daddy's kiss would make it better. "My daddy always makes it better," she responded, very matter of fact. Obviously, Eleanor's daddy was suppose to do the very same thing. That was the way the world worked ... at least to a four year old, anyway. "With a kiss and a pretty band-aid!"
Emily, much to her father's chagrin, was ridiculously social. She liked to talk. It didn't matter who she was talking to. She'd talk to the table if she thought it'd answer her back, so when Eleanor introduced herself Emily took that as an invite. "My name is Emily Annalise Vaisey!" she said, proudly. Annalise sounded as though there was a couple z's in it, but she got it out. "Chocolate ice cream is my favourite. I like strawberry too, like Daddy, but Chocolate is way better. I like the pink sprinkles, but daddy says I can't just have pink sprinkles so I get the rainbow ones instead."
After what seemed like an eternity to scoop a scoop of both chocolate and strawberry ice cream, Tyler finally moved to collect Emily. He could hear her talking from the moment she'd sat down and was only relieved she'd chosen someone who didn't seem to mind the interruption. Reaching the two, Tyler placed the bowl of chocolate ice cream with rainbow sprinkles in front of Emily and smirked when she squealed excitedly and promptly stopped talking in order to focus on her ice cream.
Turning his head toward the woman, he raised an eyebrow at her comment. "It's in the job description," he returned. Her face wasn't familiar, but he did notice the red eyes and he internally cringed. Bloody hell, if she started fucking crying he was out of there, rude or not. "Sorry about this," he continued, nodding toward where Emily was engaged with her ice cream, "She's ... social."