“She was with someone.”I know that’s not enough so I’m not surprised by his next comment.
“And yet,” a faint lift at the corner of his mouth, “I suspect you’re not referring to just anyone.”
I don’t break his stare as I take another slow sip before stating her name.“Vanessa Caldwell.”
There it is.The smallest shift.Contained, almost imperceptible.Most wouldn’t catch it, but I do.Recognition.Gone just as quickly as it came.But it’s there.That’s all I need.
“That,” Oliver replies smoothly, “would fall under member discretion.”
“I’m not asking for her file.”
“No,” a single brow arching.“You’re asking me to break the rules without calling it that.”
“Is she a new member?”
He doesn’t rush the answer.Doesn’t offer it freely either.It’s given the same way everything else here is; deliberate.Oliver leans back slightly, studying me in a way that suggests he’s deciding something.And it’s not what to say, it’s what I’m worth knowing.“She’s not.”
That lands in a way I do not expect.“How long?”
“That,” he says lightly, “is where discretion becomes less flexible.”
I let that sit.Don’t push immediately.Take another measured sip of my drink.“Who was she with?”
Another faint smile as he shakes his head.“You’re aware this isn’t how the Gild operates.”
“I’m aware.”
“And yet…”
“And yet,” I repeat, voice steady.“I’m asking anyway.”I let the silence stretch for a moment before continuing.“She’s someone I knew.A long time ago.”It’s not an explanation.Not quite.But I think it’s enough.
Another shift, this one quieter.The information I’ve shared being considered.“That explains the interest.”
“She’s not the kind of person I expected to see here.”
“No?”Oliver shrugs, the question settling with more meaning than it should.“Most people aren’t.”A small pause.Measured.“Spencer Ashcroft.”
The name lands with weight.Not unfamiliar.Not insignificant.“Ashcroft shipping?”
A glance.A brief nod of confirmation.
“A regular?”
A faint, almost disapproving exhale.“Careful.That’s two questions beyond what I should have answered.”
I don’t look away.“And yet, you did.”
There’s a beat, and then.“Because it’s you.”Interesting.
“She’s not attached to him.”He shares the information before I can ask.Which means he already knows where I’m going.“At least, not yet.”
The words come without effort, but they land heavier than intended.Oliver watches me more closely now, something sharper beneath the calm.
“Then you know I won’t leave it alone.”
A slight shift in his posture, something almost like amusement threading through it.“I don’t suppose you will.Not after all these questions.”
My gaze drifts briefly across the room, not searching, just taking inventory.The subtle exchanges.The quiet negotiations.The control threaded through every movement.
