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She grunts. “You could have picked a less stressful time to join our pack. No doubt about that.”
I glance up at her. “Are you scared? Because I’m…really scared. About just about everything.”
Her gaze softens. “Me, too.” She gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “But I’ve got your back, okay?”
“And I’ve got yours,” I assure her, wishing I could trust her with my secret.
But…maybe I can.
Surely, she would understand.
I pull in a breath, heart racing as I prepare to confess all and beg for advice or shelter from Maxim’s wrath—whichever she feels is necessary—when her cell beeps several times.
She pulls it from her pocket and glances down, frowning as she reads, “Looks like Maxim’s been detained. He won’t be able to meet us for lunch, but he wants to do dinner with you. Seven o’clock.” She glances my way. “Is that okay with you?”
I sigh. “I’m pretty sure he’s giving an order, not asking for a date, but yes. I can do dinner. It’s not like I have a packed social calendar.”
“But you will,” she assures me. “We’ll get through this crisis, you’ll find your place and your people, and you’ll be happy here. And Maxim can be very charming. He just has a lot on his plate right now.”
I bob my head as the elevator arrives with a ding. “Oh, I know. I totally get it. I mean, I’m struggling with how to feel about Kelley, and at least she seems to want to keep me around. If she were just flat-out trying to murder me and take control of my pack…”
“It’s tearing Maxim apart,” Hermione says as we step into the car and she presses the button for the atrium level. “He worshiped Bane. This kind of betrayal…” She trails off with a sigh. “I just hope he comes out whole on the other side.”
Betrayal. Ugh.
I haven’t betrayed Maxim, but I’ve sure as hell thought about it. And I’ve lied to him—for understandable reasons, I think, but it remains to be seen how he’ll feel about it.
A fretful, anxious gloom settles around my shoulders, but that just makes me fit in with the rest of the pack.
Gloom is the mood of the day.
As Hermione and I buy lunch and settle in at a table, the atrium is so much quieter than it was the last time I was here. Even the kids playing on the playground seem subdued. But they can probably sense how stressed their caregivers are today.
The thought gives me an idea…
“What’s Maxim’s favorite dessert, Hermione?” I ask. “Do you know?”
She looks up from her plate. “I don’t know. He’s not much of a dessert guy.”
I sag lower in my chair. “Oh. I was just thinking I could make him something for after supper. Something to lift his spirits a little.”
She smiles. “I think he’d love that. The thought behind it, at least, even if he hated the dessert. I say go for it. Make something you like and hopefully he’ll have the sense to like it, too.”
I nod, my lips curving. “Okay. I will. I know dessert can’t make up for all the bad stuff, but…it’s something.”
“It is,” she agrees. “And a little kindness can go a long way.”
“I hope so,” I say, and not just because I’d like to soften Maxim up so he’s in a good mood when I decide to come clean.
I truly want to give him comfort and hope.
I want him to know I’m on his side.
I just need him to be on mine, too.
* * *
I spend the afternoon sifting through Diana’s thankfully well-stocked pantry, making scones for Diana, cookies for Hermione, and a special something for Maxim, doing my best not to think about worst case scenarios.
