Lucy is doing it without trying.
Then the universe decides to test my control.
Graham Whitaker appears at the edge of our table like he belongs there.
Which, unfortunately, he does. He’s the kind of influential philanthropist who can wander anywhere he wants in a room like this and be welcomed like royalty.
His smile is bright, friendly, and somehow predatory.
“Lucy,” he says, as if we’re old friends. “You look incredible.”
Lucy’s expression shifts, polite surprise, then warmth. “Hi, Graham.”
Graham looks at me next. A measured glance. A recognition of competition.
“North,” he says, like my last name is an accessory he’s trying on.
“Whitaker,” I reply.
He turns back to Lucy immediately. “I was disappointed you didn’t call.”
Lucy’s lips part slightly, as if she’s unsure how to respond.
I feel something pull tight inside me. Not jealousy. Not possessiveness.
A... strategic irritation that someone is inserting themselves into a dynamic I haven’t finished defining.
Graham leans in slightly. “Save me a dance. I have a few things I’d love to discuss with you.”
He says it like he assumes she’ll agree.
Because he’s a man who’s used to agreement.
Lucy glances at me, quickly. Instinctive.
She doesn’t know she did it.
But I do.
“I’m here with Julian tonight,” she says carefully. “I’m not sure...”
Graham smiles wider. “All the more reason. We have lots to talk about.”
He slides his gaze to me briefly, like a challenge, then back to her.
“I’ll find you later,” he says.
And then he’s gone.
The moment he leaves, Theo leans in, eyes bright with mischief. “Well, that was fun.”
Lucy exhales quietly. “Does he… always do that?”
Elliot scoffs. “Graham does whatever Graham wants.”
Harper’s eyes remain on Lucy for a beat too long. Then she leans toward Elliot and murmurs something under her breath. Elliot’s smile shifts, subtle interest, filed away.
Rowan watches the room, unreadable.
