I don't turn around.
She comes around the bench and sits beside me, leaving several inches of cast iron between us. She is in her off-duty clothes, which means jeans and a worn oversized grey sweater that keeps sliding off one shoulder, and her dark hair is loose and slightly windblown. She is carrying what I now understand is her permanent accessory at all times outside of working: a mug of coffee. No, not true. This morning she's carrying two mugs.
She hands me one as she takes a sip.
I take it with a nod of thanks.
"Your grandmother," Maddie says, "staged a coup at the Knitters Club."
I look at her.
"She's like Machiavellia with a crochet hook," she continues. "She sits in the good chair, the one by the window, and she just, presides over the meeting. I feel like everyone is terrified of her. She even told Evelyn Primrose her tension was uneven and I expected a riot, but nope. Evelyn just nodded and ripped her work and then started again."
"Was Evelyn's tension uneven?"
"Appallingly." A pause. "But so was Agatha's. Not that anyone would dare tell her that."
Something comes loose in my chest and I laugh. The laugh comes out bigger than I expected. It travels out into the rose garden and disperses into the blue sky and I sit there for a moment, surprised by it.
Maddie looks at me. There is a bloom of warmth in her expression and it churns something deep in my chest.
"You should do that more," she says.
I look at her. "Do what?"
"Laugh." She tips her mug. "You look like the old you when you laugh. You should do it more often."
I take a long, deep breath. "I wish I did."
She turns the mug in her hands. "While I've got you. I'm going to need a day off, not this Sunday but the next. I'm telling you early so you can line up cover for Agatha, though she'll be well enough by then to go without me for a day."
"Done," I say. "What for?"
"Dad is throwing my mom a cancerversary party. A year since they told her she was clear. He wants to celebrate it properly. He invited the entire neighborhood."
"Of course," I say. "Take the weekend if you want it."
She cuts me a look. "A day's plenty."
She looks out at the roses and I take the opportunity to look at her profile. I've always loved her profile. There's just something about the elegant shape of her neck, the graceful curve of her nose, that fascinates me.
"How did you know to find me here?" I ask.
She turns back to me, a smile threatening at her lips, and something in my chest trips over its own feet.
"This is where you go when you're upset." She tilts her head. "You're not all that unpredictable, mister great CEO."
She is watching me with her eyes so soft I forget who I am for a second. I've always felt that way when Maddie gave me her full attention. Comfortable and exposed simultaneously, like standing in warm sunlight that shows up all the dust in my mind.
"I'm having some trouble that I wished I didn't have to deal with," I say, after hesitating just a little. "Thornwood Industries is acquiring Windemere Maritime and the heiress of the Windemere family is proving quite the negotiator."
Her brow goes up another fraction. "Wow! That's a huge deal. Isn't Windemere Maritime the biggest player on the West Coast?"
"You're well informed." I turn the coffee mug in my hands. "Or they were, a few decades ago. They're running on fumes and reputation now." I shake my head. "But once I take it over, I'll turn all that around."
"That's incredible." She is quiet for a moment. "I'm sure it's a lot of work."
"It's just what I do." I lean back on the bench and try not to look at the way she's staring at me. She's so different from everyone in my world, she has no idea. Just the way she's sitting there, listening to me. Not asking for anything, not expecting a favor or a gift in return. Just sitting there with me.
