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"Sure thing, Mr. Sullivan." She pivots on her heel, heading towards the hall.
A thought strikes me. "Carrigan?" I call out.
She turns, eyebrow raised.
"Can you also tell Jessie to reach out to Vanessa Wellington? There’s something I need to discuss with her as well."
Carrigan nods, then vanishes down the hall. I'm left alone, heading to my study, bracing myself for the storm that's about to hit.
* * *
LACEY
When I pull up to Aidan's place, the night wraps around the Sullivan household like a velvet cloak, whispering breezes and the city's distant rumble accompanying me.
It feels surreal, coming here straight from a hospital visit that's left my heart doing acrobatics.
I need a quick stop at my studio apartment for an express shower to wash off the hospital vibes and brace myself for the solitude of my own place.
But first, I need to sneak into Aidan's house for a few essentials I've left behind.
Imagine my surprise when, upon stepping into the living room, I notice the balcony door slightly open, a soft light spilling out.
And there's Aidan, seemingly trying to become one with the night. Dressed in dark sweats, shirtless, he's just there, sipping on what I guess is something far too sophisticated for my mood, lost in the stars.
I take a moment to appreciate every detail of him - his tall, muscled frame, the curve of his lips as he drinks in the night.
I let myself look, knowing these moments are fleeting. Leaning against the doorway, I try to keep things light despite the heaviness in my chest.
"Plotting to buy a star or just chatting with aliens?" Aidan doesn't startle at my voice. He turns, mug in hand, and gives me a look that's part amusement, part something deeper.
“Hmm, I always figured you for someone who believed I had secret alien buddies rather than cosmic real estate ambitions."
"What's in the mug? Please tell me it's not shattering my fantasy of you finally appreciating a good iced vanilla latte."
He smirks, eyebrow raised. "Whiskey. The stars align better with whiskey."
In my maxi dress that sweeps to my feet, I move closer until I'm standing in front of him. "That's not a drink for contemplation," I argue, leaning on the railing beside him, letting the night envelop us in its familiar silence. Then I muster the courage to address the elephant in the room.
"I saw the posts about us, about our 'dalliance,'" I say, air quoting, my voice heavy with sarcasm I don't feel. "And I'm sorry."
The word feels out of place, but Aidan just looks over, something softening in his gaze. "Why are you apologizing?"
I sigh, the cooler summer night air soothing. "For dragging you into this mess."
Aidan's expression softens further, and he sets his mug down, turning to me, his hand gently cradling my cheek.
"Lacey, you don't have to apologize for anything. I knew what this was. I'd do it all over again, without a second thought."
His words are a warm balm. Here, on this little balcony, with the night whispering and city lights twinkling in the distance, I find peace in the storm.
But before I can fully lean into his touch, I step back, breaking the spell.
"I just came to grab a few things," I murmur, my heart heavy. "I need to head back to my studio."
Aidan frowns, concern deepening his already dark gaze. "Stay the night, Lacey. You haven’t. Ever. At least, not here. Let’s change that.”
I shake my head. "I can't, Aidan."
