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“Just a short one. Some pilates or a quick 5k? It’s good for your brain, dude. Gets the creative juices flowing. And some healthy fats for breakfast. Maybe avocado on wholewheat with a poached egg?”

“Sure. I’ll get right on that.”

“Awesome.” I slowed my jog as the street came into view up ahead, checking my fitness tracker again. “Okay, bro, I gotta go take a shower. See you tonight.”

“Yeah. See you.”

After hanging up, I stretched outside my building and checked my emails. Still no response from Corva nir Feris. Kinda unprofessional, if you asked me. Surely she was up by now. How could a successful business owner not check their emails first thing?

Nodding at the concierge in the lobby, I went into my nesthouse and beelined straight for the kitchen to have breakfast. I had a personal chef who came three times a week to prepare all my meals, and I made sure he was in constant contact with my nutritionist so he’d know precisely what my macros were. I’d even tried to set them up to make life easier for me, but that hadn’t worked out. I was still convinced they’d make a great couple, despite not knowing all that much about them. They hadn’t listened to me, though.

I answered a few emails while I ate, and made sure my email to Corva had actually sent, because there was still no reply. If I hadn’t done my own research on her, I would’ve been kicking myself for trusting Beryl, who was the one who’d recommended her. I couldn’t trust the person who’d successfully gotten the rest of my family to call me fucking Pooni for months after she came up with the nickname at Christmas. At our first meeting. What was her problem? I’d been nothing but polite. She’d just gotten all protective and annoying over me calling Greid Grode. But like I’d said to Sorin, that was just an affectionate nickname. He was my brother. I was allowed.

By the time I was leaving for the office—freshly showered and in my new Seta Nera suit—I was still feeling edgy. The run hadn’t been enough to get me pumped for the day, and now I had to try and fit in my first workout before my second after work. And Corva still hadn’t responded to my email.

Traffic was bad on the way to work, but that might’ve been mainly down to me, because I kept stopping to look at vacant buildings I passed, trying to decide if they would work for Sorin. I was a little earlier than normal getting into the office, which meant Lipa had only just arrived and hadn’t had time to go back out and get my morning rice milk matcha latte yet—it was my guilty pleasure.

“Good morning, Mr var Rorik.” She jumped up from her desk outside my office, still typing frantically. “Just logging in and then I’ll go and get your latte. Two seconds.”

“No worries, Lipa.” I smiled at her, not showing how weirdly irritated it had made me. I didn’t like my routine being messed with, and it had already been fucked thanks to the gym. “No rush.”

“I’m going right now.” She was still in her coat, so she grabbed her purse and hurried past me to the elevator. “You have a call with the board of Lazurite Developers at nine. I’ll be back before then.”

“Great, thanks.” I strode into my office, checking my emails again. Still nothing from Corva.

Frowning, I sat down at my desk and turned on my computer, then immediately opened up my emails in case she’d replied in the time it took me to log on. Nothing. Seriously, she was “the best”? Maybe I should tactfully let her know that I expected her to actually be available for us to discuss this fucking event around my busy schedule. It’d been nearly three hours since I emailed her. Who didn’t get back to someone within three hours?

Lazy people, that was who. Unprofessional people. Sometimes it took my brother Greid about two weeks to respond to my texts, but he was high all the time, so he probably just forgot.

Over half an hour later, when I was deep in my conference call, I finally saw Corva’s name appear in my inbox. I checked my watch with a frown. Three hours and eighteen minutes to respond. Shoddy.

The voice droning in my ear faded away as I scanned the email. Anita leading. Consummate. Beyond satisfied. For some reason, my ears fluttered.

So Anita was going to be the one planning the event. Anita, the human with the dark eyes. And long, silky hair. And quiet yet firm voice. That was… great. That was great. She’d seemed professional and capable, and she didn’t run the company like Corva, which meant she’d have more time to focus on the event. That was good. Great.

So why was I suddenly regretting my demand to be involved? I did want to be involved. I wanted to make sure this was the event of the year, at least in architecture and building development circles.

My mouth had gone weirdly dry. I wasn’t hydrating enough. After squirting some water from my sports bottle into my mouth, I flexed my fingers and typed out a response one-handed.

Great. Thanks, both.

I didn’t need to say more than that. I was a busy guy. And I may have been feeling just a little snubbed by how long it’d taken Corva to get back to me.

“Nuni, what do you think?” someone drawled down the phone. Jolting, I spun my chair to face the huge windows overlooking the city.

“Have we fully considered the logistics?” I bullshitted, having no idea what I’d just been asked about.

“Good point,” someone else said. “Jaryd, could you loop Doren in…”

I almost fell out of my chair when my computer dinged with a new email. Spinning around, I scooted closer, not sure why I was so eager to read it. Whatever it was. Not like it mattered. Could have been from anyone.

I deflated when I saw it was from Terres Gym, letting me know three fucking hours too late that the gym would be shut for the foreseeable future. It just reiterated what had been on the notice taped to the door, and I considered emailing them back to express my disappointment at their poor handling of the situation.

Before I could, a new email popped up in the corner of my screen.

From Anita Chaudhary.

I clicked on it immediately. Only because I couldn’t stand leaving my inbox cluttered with unread emails. Once again tuning out of the call, I scanned the polite, formal message and felt my belly dip when I saw her mention arranging a visit to the venue. That reminded me—I had to call my nutritionist. My stomach had suddenly started going weird again.