“Then say it like you mean it.”
Her fingers flexed on the coffee cup.
He adjusted the coffee in his hand. Let the heat remind him not to reach for her. “You’re allowed to want more, and you know it.”
And if that scared her, good. It meant she was listening.
2:03 p.m.
Bea glanced up from her screen as the click of heels echoed down the hallway. That rhythm only belonged to one woman.
“Cruz,” Maris said evenly. “Walk with me.”
Bea rose instantly, smoothing her skirt even though she was already put-together. You didn’t make Maris wait. They walked side by side down the corridor, past frosted-glass offices, toward one of the smaller conference rooms.
The door shut behind them with a quiet click.
Maris didn’t sit. “We’ve got a new opportunity coming through. It’s going to be meaty and high-profile.”
Bea stayed quiet. Listening.
“I want you on it with me. As my shadow.”
Startled, Bea almost asked if Maris had hit her head. Then she almost cried.
Instead, she managed, “Not to ruin this, but…is this a real sentence you’re saying to me?”
The way Maris blinked captured her amusement. “You rewrite structuring briefs better than most associates. You anticipate problems before I name them. I need that.”
Bea’s throat felt dry. For a second, everything else fell away.
At Monaghan & Stowe, shadowing Maris was the height of access. It was an invitation into the core of the operation. Where real deals lived.
“What’s the catch?” Bea asked, grinning before she could stop it.
“It starts in January,” Maris said. “The legal team needs to file background checks and NDAs in advance.”
Bea’s smile wobbled.
January.
The moment collapsed inward, quiet and fast. She wasn’t going to be here in January.
Maris watched her. “You’re dating Gage King.”
Everyone at M&S had read the headlines. Watched the speculation crawl across the feeds like it had teeth.
Her name had stopped being just Bea Cruz. It became synonymous with the girl who might marry into a legacy.
“King’s just been appointed to run London,” Maris added, her gaze drifting to the pendant resting at Bea’s collarbone. “I assume that comes with a plan for you.”
Bea didn’t flinch, but the weight of it pressed against her sternum.
“I didn’t want to assume you’d go with him. But if you don’t…” She looked at Bea forthrightly. “This is yours.”
Bea’s fingers squeezed around the pen she somehow hadn’t put down. “It means a lot. That you’re asking.”
“I can make space for you. But I need to know that if I do, you won’t disappear halfway through.” She paused. “Some meetings will be inter-island—Veldil, maybe Nieuwland.”
