Me: And I can’t say more.
Wren: Okay, okay. But if you want to talk about it, I’m here.
Me: Thank you. Love you. Where are you, anyway?
Wren: Sydney. It’s midnight. I’m going to bed soon.
Me: Okay.
Wren: But if you change your mind and want to tell me, I’ll totally answer.
Me: I won’t.
More like can’t but really, really want to. But it’s not something I can do.
Wren: One more thing. Did you see there was another anonymous buyer for another Monet? I’m just saying...
Me: Get some good sleep, Wren. When are you back in NYC?
Wren: Forty hours. We got here this morning. Have a good afternoon.
Me: Good Morning
Wren: Good Night
I smile at the words of our silly tradition. That’s the thing with Wren. She always knows what time it is where I am. But our insider joke fills me with her love.
Kieren strolls in. “Hello, beautiful.” He pulls me in for a kiss. “You’ve been doing a lot of work. It’s a lot more put together in here since yesterday.” He’s been away most days this week, going through the portal. Roark’s been away a few evenings, and Evander will be away tonight. But for the most part, the four of us have been inseparable.
He stops at the side of my desk, where the old desk chair used to be. I asked Leo to get Kieren a new chair, and it was dropped off right before lunch.
“Did you get that for me?” he asks.
“Yes. You looked so scrunched up in that old chair.”
Kieren tugs me in for a hug and lifts me off my feet and sits in it. “It’s perfect,” he says, holding me in his lap.
“I’m glad you like my surprise.” It’s hard to surprise the guys. They can afford anything. And really, this isn’t even something I bought him.
“I like everything about you, Raine.” He holds my gaze. “Are you almost done for the day?” I like the way Kieren’s eyes always travel up to the painting behind me. Every day when I gaze at it, I find something new too.
“I... I suppose I am. I started early this morning. I could be done.”
“Perfect.” He sets me on my feet and waits while I shut things down. Then Kieren takes my hand, and we walk down the south-side hallway.
“Leo told me you handed out potato casserole to children last Halloween?”
“Potato casserole?”
“Raclette?”
“Oh yes, Leopold makes the best raclette.” He blinks at me like it’s not a problem and why wouldn’t children like to have potato casserole?
“Right, well. I thought we could decorate some of the castle for Halloween and then get regular candy. Or even...”
“What?”
“Well, there’s this house near downtown where I grew up, and they give out full-size candy bars.”
