Page 18 of Tessa and Nash

I don’t move right away.

My fingers curl slightly around the edge of my notebook, grounding myself in the familiar texture of paper and leather. My pulse is still too fast. My skin feels overly alert, like I’ve brushed up against static.

Get a grip, Tessa.

He’s nothing.

Just a man who talks too much, promises too easily, and now apparently invents fiancées under pressure.

I exhale slowly, realizing only then that I’d been holding my breath.

“Well,” Thomas says grimly. “That confirms it.”

“Confirms what?” I ask.

“That he’s lying,” he says without hesitation. “And I want to know why.”

He turns fully toward me now, blocking my path in a way that is uncomfortably familiar.

“Tessa,” he says. “You need to find out who he’s engaged to.”

I blink. “I’m sorry?”

“You work here,” he says. “You hear things. You know how people talk.”

“So you want me to gossip,” I say flatly.

“I want you to gather information,” he snaps. “There’s a difference.”

I shift my weight, irritation flaring. “You want leverage.”

“I want clarity,” he corrects. “If there’s a fiancée, there’s influence. Another family. Another angle we need to consider.”

“And if there isn’t?”

His mouth thins. “Then the council deserves to know what kind of man they’re dealing with.”

“I’ve never been impressed by Nash McCoy,” I say coolly.

Thomas’s expression sharpens. “Exactly. You won’t be distracted by his charm.”

I almost laugh at that.

Charm.

“Fine,” I say after a moment. “I’ll hear things whether I want to or not. This town leaks like a sieve.”

“Good,” he says, already satisfied. “Then pay attention.”

He turns and walks away before I can say anything else, coat swinging behind him.

I stand there a beat longer, surrounded by speculation and whispers and the echo of a word that refuses to settle.

Engaged.

I open my notebook and write it down before I can stop myself. Not because it belongs in the official record, it doesn’t, but because I need to anchor it somewhere.

Arrogant. Reckless. Unreliable.