Chapter twenty-seven
George
The ERS office hums with the ordinary sounds of a Tuesday morning. Keyboards are ticking, the coffee machine gurgles through its cycle, and Noah's chair squeaks as he leans back. I set my bag down and glance toward Tessa's office the way I always do, automatically.
She's already at her desk. Head down, reading something on her screen.
She doesn't look up.
I tell myself that means nothing. People read things in the morning. It is a universally accepted practice.
Noah drops into the chair across from my desk and tilts his head with the expression of a man solving for x. "What's up with you and Tessa? Are you guys fighting or something?"
"Nothing is happening." I don't look up from my laptop.
He stares at me for exactly two seconds too long before spinning back to his own desk. I keep my eyes on my screen and notice, in my peripheral vision, that Tessa has still not looked up from hers.
When she finally stands and walks past my doorway, she offers me a small, polished smile. Warm at the surface, sealed underneath. I cannot explain, in any rational terms, why it bothers me.
I used to be able to tell the difference between her real smile and her client smile. I'm no longer sure which one I just received.
Evelyn appears in the hallway and knocks twice on the doorframe. "Team meeting, five minutes."
I gather my notepad and stand, and Tessa emerges from her office at the exact same moment, and for one suspended, airless second we are walking toward the same door at the same pace. She steps aside. I step aside. We regard each other across approximately fourteen inches of hallway carpet.
Noah walks between us. "Incredible. Two awkwardly polite people." He disappears into the conference room without looking back.
I take a seat at the far end of the table. Tessa sits three chairs away, which is a reasonable, professionally appropriate distance, and I have no logical reason to be noting the exact number of chairs between us.
Evelyn moves through the updates. Camden and Lila's media coverage trending well, Arthur and Lindsay stabilizing after the podcast fallout. I write things on my notepad. Normal meeting behavior.
Then Tessa slides a single printed page to the center of the table and begins her summary of the Seamus and Rosanna situation. She doesn't look at her notes, no hesitation, no glancing at me.
Her voice is clear and steady, her hands gesturing once, twice over the page, and I find myself watching because she is, objectively, very good at this. There is a small ink mark onher left index finger that she hasn't noticed. I look back at my notepad.
Marissa leans back in her chair and sighs with the satisfaction of someone reviewing a successful harvest. "The positive press placements are doing exactly what they're supposed to do." She grins around the table. "Anyone know a stray billionaire who needs a relationship? Send them our way."
Noah smirks and looks directly at me.
I write something unnecessary in the margin of my notepad. The wordquarterly, for no reason.
Tessa caps her pen and says nothing, but the corner of her mouth shifts. It's not quite a smile, just a small involuntary flicker, and I catch it before it resolves into something I can read.
The meeting wraps. Chairs scrape back, and everyone migrates toward the door in that shapeless post-meeting shuffle. I linger under the pretense of reviewing my notes, watching Tessa pause to say something quiet to Evelyn before she slips out into the hallway. I follow two minutes later, taking the long route past the kitchen.
The hallway near the conference room is quieter, and I hear her voice before I see her. Low, unhurried. Easy in a way that hits wrong.
I stop.
I am not listening. I am simply standing very still with a coffee mug in my hand while my feet have made a decision without consulting me.
"George needed help for a wedding," she says. "Friends help friends in sticky situations."
Her tone is light. The same tone she uses when she's closing out a case file, tying the last bow on something resolved.
I stare at a motivational print on the wall.
Friends.
