“You’ve stirred it twenty-seven times.”
“Twenty-eight,” she countered with another smile that didn’t quite reach where it should’ve. Then she sighed. “I just want today to go smoothly.”
“It will,” I assured her. “The bid is solid. Hinds is practically family. Dad is literally picking him up from the airstrip himself. We’re fine.”
“That’s part of it,” she murmured.
I paused, speaking around my strawberry. “Part of what?”
“Nothing.” She waved her hand like she could swat the entire conversation away. “You’ve done an incredible job this week, sweetheart. I’m proud of you.”
I arched an eyebrow at her. “You only get this sentimental when something is wrong.”
“I can be proud without impending doom attached.”
“Historically, that hasn’t been your brand.”
She laughed softly, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. “Just enjoying my coffee. Your father and Abram should already be on their way to the manor. We should get going soon too.”
“You’re deflecting.”
“Jetlag,” she said mildly, as if she’d taken a flight halfway across the globe yesterday instead of Chicago.
As she sipped her coffee, I sighed and tried to figure out what on earth had her so on edge. We’d always been close, but today, she was completely refusing to open up despite the fact that it was completely obvious something was on her mind.
All the way to the Westwood compound—or whatever it was called—she talked around my pointed questions, very deliberately not giving me any real answers. I let it go when we arrived to find everyone was already there, the mansion buzzing with activity.
Inside the dining room, a breakfast buffet stretched nearly the entire length of one wall, the table laden with silver warmers, fresh pastries, smoked salmon, an omelet station, and an entire island dedicated to fruit.
Now that’s what I’m talking about.
I loaded a plate with pineapple, berries, mango, and melon, ignoring the carb fortress behind me.
“Still obsessed with fruit, I see.”
I turned, a grin instantly breaking out across my face. “Abram!”
He pulled me into a warm hug, the scent of cedar and expensive cologne enveloping me. I’d spent all week trying to work out the best deal I could because of hugs like these. As much as I understood his instinct to retire, I desperately wanted to protect both him and my father’s firm.
“Look at you,” he said as he pulled back and gave me a quick onceover, almost like he was assessing me for injury. “Chicago suits you, Katie.”
I bit back a smile. “You’ve been here three minutes. You can’t possibly know that.”
“I read the bid,” he said, tapping my temple lightly as he neatly sidestepped what I’d just said. “You did a stellar job with it. Really.”
Relief trickled through my chest, easing some of the tension that had been sitting front and center all week. “Thank you.”
“I want to move forward.” He guided me toward the table as everyone gathered. “Truly. You and the Westwoods have built something impressive.”
“That’s great news,” Alex said, appearing beside us with effortless polish. “We’re thrilled to hear it.”
Abram nodded, settling into his chair beside the one he’d pulled out for me. “There’s just something… missing.”
I froze halfway into my own seat. “There’s something missing?”
Across the table, Nate stilled too, his fork hovering over scrambled eggs. His brow puckered on a deep frown. He didn’t say anything though, just listening intently.
“What do you mean bymissing?” I asked smoothly, voicing the question on all our minds right then.
