Then Thursday morning shattered it.
Aping. Nothing dramatic.
Subject:Reminder—Elion Preliminary Audit Package Due
From:Gregory Davidson
My stomach dropped.
The preview glowed like a warning flare:
Emma, I’m formally requesting a preliminary audit of Elion’s financials. Please send by end of day tomorrow.
“Asshole,” I whispered.
“What’s up?” Damien asked, reaching for his toothbrush.
“Davidson just emailed me asking for the audit packet. Deadline tomorrow.”
“Fucker. Good thing Margaret gave you a heads up.”
“Yup,” I snapped, sharper than intended, setting my phone down and turning to the mirror.
Damien paused mid-stroke, toothbrush stilled. He watched me in the reflection, concern flickering in the corner of his eye.
I ignored it.
I gathered my curls into a ponytail, fingers clumsy. A few strands slipped free. Before I could shove them back, his hand appeared behind me catching the missed curls and holding them in place.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
He didn’t answer.
Just held the strands steady while I fastened the claw clip—grounded in the places I suddenly wasn’t.
The rest of the morning blurred past. On Sunday, we’d stopped by my apartment to grab clothes, and he’d laid out outfits for me every morning since—a ritual I pretended not to love.
Today, a plum dress waited on the bed.
I reached for it… and something small slipped off the hanger.
“Really?” I lifted the minuscule G-string. “I can’t wear this to work.”
“It’s not meant for work,” he said, glancing at the clock. “We still have thirty minutes…”
I threw it at him. “Absolutely not.”
He caught it one-handed, lifted it, sniffed dramatically, and sighed.
“Yeah. Definitely needs… further research.”
“Damien.”
“What?” He shrugged. “Science.”
Chapter 27
***
