My father stops walking.
I realize he’s waiting for an answer.
“Porter?”
I blink. “Sorry,” I say. “Could you repeat that?”
“Your mother asked if you planned to join us for dinner tomorrow night.”
Damn it.
I rub the back of my neck.
He gives me a long, assessing look.
“Uh, yes. I’ll make a reservation at the steak house upstairs if that works for you and Mom.”
Harleigh stops to speak to Mabree before proceeding to her office.
She sees us. And for just a second—one tiny second—her eyes meet mine.
A polite smile appears on her face.
The kind employees give the boss. One that doesn’t reach her eyes.
She keeps walking.
“Miss Storm,” I call. The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.
She pauses.
Turns.
Her expression stays professional, but there’s curiosity in her eyes as she walks over.
“Good morning.”
Her voice is smooth.
Controlled.
I clear my throat.
“Dad,” I say, gesturing toward her, “this is Miss Storm, the new social events and conference planning manager I was telling you about.”
She steps forward immediately, extending her hand.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Garrison.”
My father brightens the instant he takes her hand.
“Ah, yes,” he says warmly. “The brightest new member of the Belicourt team, I hear.”
She gives him a genuine smile.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Storm. Porter tells me you’ve done some excellent work,” my father continues.
She nods politely. “I do my best, sir.”
