“I’d be happy to. Her food is yumalicious.”
“That’s not a real word.”
“It is. I just invented it.”
He chuckles. “I’m glad to hear you sounding more like yourself.” His voice is quiet.
I nod, even though I’m not sure that’s entirely true yet.
He leans back in his chair and finally reaches for his own mug. As he takes a long sip, I really look at him and realize how rough he appears. The whites of his eyes are threaded with red. Dark shadows sit beneath like bruises. There’s a faint, persistent twitch near his temples, betraying just how exhausted he must be, even as his posture remains rigidly upright. Uneven stubble coats his jaw.
As I finish my coffee, Katie reappears at the table, a basket in her hands. “You still doing okay?” she asks, setting it down.
“Yes,” Theo says.
She gives a small nod, clearly satisfied. “Good. Lina just arrived. I told her you were here, and she started on the gnocchi.” Her lips curve. “I hope that’s all right.”
“I’ll never say no to anything Lina makes,” Theo replies easily. “Especially the gnocchi.”
“It’s his favorite,” I add, surprising myself with how casually the words come out.
He arches a brow. “You’ve been taking notes?”
“Hard not to,” I say lightly. “You talked about it the entire walk from the stairwell to here.”
“I didn’t think you were actually paying attention,” he says.
My cheeks warm. “I was. Partially.”
Katie snorts, clearly enjoying this far more than she should, but she doesn’t comment. She gathers our empty mugs and slips back toward the kitchen. I can hear her and Lina laughing about something a moment later.
Theo exhales and shakes his head, gaze dropping to his plate. I catch him muttering something under his breaththat sounds suspiciously like,“They’re never going to let me live this down.”
I tear off a piece of the hot bread and butter it. “How often do you come here?”
His eyes flick to mine, then away again. “More than I should admit.” A pause. “Lina’s... family of a sort. She’s seen me at my best. And my worst.” He takes a piece of bread and rips it apart, like he’s stalling for time. “She always seems to know what I need.”
I wait. He doesn’t elaborate, but the silence does.
“Blood doesn’t guarantee much,” he adds quietly. “Lina does.”
Something shifts in my chest. For the first time since I met him, I wonder if there’s more to Theo Riverton than meets the eye.
“Ah, Theodore and Kaori—perfetto,” Lina proclaims as she emerges from the kitchen. “A fresh batch of gnocchi for you both.”
My mouth waters the moment she sets the plates in front of us. It won’t hit me until much later that she already knew my name.
Eight
When I arrive to the conference room on Wednesday morning, Anya is speaking to Leon quietly about Theo. I can’t hear everything they’re saying, but I make out the words “Harris,” “punishing,” “grunt work,” and “unbelievable.”
I frown, my thoughts circling back to the day I overheard Mr. Harris on the phone with Theo. It must be about the last-minute trip he was sent on to LA.
Everyone was caught by surprise. Theo was barely here two days before he was dispatched again. I know he’s the head of the Orlando office, but the frequency he travels is still a lot.
Excelsior has other offices that are all closer. They could’ve sent someone from the San Francisco office to LA, or from Munich to Amsterdam. Yet somehow, it’s always Theo being pulled away. I’d like to know what Mr. Harris’ reasoning is.
I tuck the thought aside as I finish setting up my laptop. I’m pulling up my notes when movement outside the glass walls catches my eye. Speaking of Theo, there he is, stridingdown the hall. But the silhouette is all wrong. It takes my brain a second to accept what I’m seeing.
