“That’s all I need.” He slides two samples apart and holds them near the camera. “These are for the table linens, but you don’t have to decide now. I’ll bring them to Ember House tomorrow.”
Lorenzo calls for him again, and Oliver looks over his shoulder before returning his attention to me. “I have to stop Barty from becoming part of the décor. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I tell him goodbye and end the call before another crash can reach us. When I lower the phone, Blake is still tucked against Luther at the table, and Grayson has moved to my side with Samuel’s abandoned sock dangling from one finger. He slips it into the outside pocket of my bag and presses his mouth against my temple.
“Oliver’s bringing everything to Ember House tomorrow,” I tell him. “Apparently, I only have to say yes or no now.”
“Is that a good thing?” Grayson keeps his mouth against my skin for another second, waiting until I nod. “Good. Let him carry it.”
The morning carries us out of the kitchen before I can stand there and think about it too long. Luther and Blake leave for Keller Industries, while Grayson and I meet Maceo at Ember House to review the revised staff assignments and the next phase of the expansion schedule.
The children are spending the morning with Nicholas, though their presence follows us through the building in the thingsthey’ve left behind. A purple crayon rolls from beneath the passenger seat when Grayson brakes, and I find one of Rosalie’s folded wedding drawings tucked into the notebook I carry into the meeting.
By the time the final staff member leaves my office, the afternoon light has shifted across the windows and the table is covered with schedules, security notes, and expansion revisions.
Blossom has redistributed unsupervised intake duties without alerting anyone to the investigation, while Grayson has arranged security close enough to respond without placing strangers in the common areas.
Maceo closes the final folder and rests both hands over it. “The revised access report will come through tonight. Until then, nothing has changed on her work account.”
Grayson collects the empty coffee cups from the edge of the desk while I stare at the place where Alastair sat during his first visit. The chair is ordinary. Someone has moved it since then, and Blossom left a stack of resident-council surveys on its seat, but I can still picture him there with his calm questions and careful interest.
I try to tell Maceo that Oliver has taken over the wedding decisions. The sentence starts clearly enough, but I lose it somewhere between the invitation list and the way Alastair looked at the expansion renderings.
Maceo watches me begin again without prompting me. His glasses rest lower on his nose after hours of reading, and fatigue pulls at the corners of his eyes, but his attention doesn’t leave my face.
I reach across the space between us, catch both of his wrists, and pull his arms away from his body. His eyebrows lift, though he lets me turn and settle sideways across his thighs before I arrange his arms where I want them. One closes beneath mylegs while the other wraps firmly around my waist, drawing me against his chest.
Grayson places the cups on the side table instead of leaving the office. He doesn’t ask whether I need anything. He walks behind Maceo’s chair and bends to kiss the top of my head before resting one hand against the back of my neck.
“I need a minute,” I say, pressing my cheek to Maceo’s shoulder while my fingers gather in the front of his shirt.
Maceo adjusts my weight until my legs are fully supported and lowers his mouth to my hair. “Take it. We’re not going anywhere.”
I try to continue. Oliver is coming to Ember House tomorrow. Blossom only needs my approval on the revised intake schedule. The security changes are controlled. Alastair’s name is in Thane’s files now, and the next subpoena is already moving.
None of that stops my voice from shaking when I say that he stood inside my office.
Maceo’s palm moves slowly over my thigh while Grayson’s thumb traces the edge of my hairline. I tell them Alastair looked at the renderings and asked about privacy, staffing, and resident control. He behaved as though he admired everything we’d built while knowing exactly what Hearthstone had done to people who needed those protections.
The words begin catching against each other. I stop halfway through a sentence, draw a breath that doesn’t settle properly, and grip Maceo’s shirt more tightly.
“Let’s get you to your nest,” he says, lowering his mouth near my temple. “I think you’ll be more comfortable there.”
I nod against Maceo’s shoulder and point beneath the desk when Grayson looks toward the couch. “The desk one.”
Grayson’s laugh escapes before he can contain it. He crouches beside the familiar opening and moves the storage basket that usually keeps the blankets contained. Rosalie has rebuilt part ofthe nest since the last time I used it, lining the floor with three folded blankets and arranging stuffed animals into an uneven wall along the back.
“She told me it needed walls,” I say as Grayson straightens the nearest blanket.
Maceo shifts me higher against his chest before lowering us toward the floor. The dragon James carried around last week lies beside one of the pillows, explaining Rosalie’s recent request for extra cushions.
Grayson crawls beneath the desk first and settles against the side panel. I follow him into the familiar space while Maceo comes in last, folding himself carefully around the lowest drawer until his knee fits beside mine. Once we’re settled, Grayson opens one arm and draws me against his chest while Maceo lifts my legs across his lap.
The office looks different from beneath the desk. The chair legs and scattered documents remain visible, but the room no longer feels as though it’s pressing down around me. Grayson’s fingers move through my hair, and Maceo keeps one palm warm against my thigh while I find the middle of the sentence I lost.
“He stood right there and acted impressed.” I turn my face into Grayson’s shirt while Maceo’s thumb moves slowly over the inside of my knee. “He looked at the rooms and the resident-council plans. He knew what all of it was protecting them from.”
Maceo doesn’t tell me it doesn’t matter or that Alastair can’t hurt me. His arm tightens around my legs while he looks through the gap beneath the desk toward the abandoned chair. “Now we know what he was looking for, and he still doesn’t know we’ve identified him.”
