Naomi smiled. “Of course, Lils, the whole bridal party’s invited.”
Bea bit the inside of her cheek. A change of setting, a chance to watch how this worked,anda trip to the capital. “Let’s do it.”
RAFAEL
“Fivebridesmaids,” Max said, ankle hooked casually over his knee. “Does she need all five?”
Northgate glowed beyond the windows. Their meeting was technically done, yet Laurent and Max were still ensconced on the leather lounge. A carved mancala board occupied the low table between them, its polished wells filled with dark stones. The Kuala Lumpur team had gifted it to Rafael months ago, but Laurent and Max had only recently started playing and were now locked in a running rivalry.
Rafael stood at his desk, scanning a set of architectural drawings he already knew by heart. His hand was in his pocket, flicking the corner of a valet stub back and forth. “She gets what she wants.”
As long as the wedding moved forward, there was no ceiling on that statement. Five bridesmaids was nothing. He’d authorize a standing invitation for every woman who’d ever loaned her hand cream and sign it in blood if that’s what it took.
Laurent smiled faintly, scooping a handful of stones and distributing them lazily along the row, one soft click after another. “Do you even have five friends?”
Rafael didn’t answer. He signed the site permit, stacked it, and opened the next folder. His pen tapped against the paper.
“By my count, you’ve got four groomsmen,” Laurent continued. “Me, Max, Hunter, Charles. Who’s the fifth? Dao?”
Rafael snorted. Jaxon Dao was, regrettably, Bea’s friend. Not his. “Montenegro.”
Both men looked up.
“CassianMontenegro?” Laurent paused mid-turn, one piece balanced between his fingers. “Out of a city full of men who owe you favors, you pick the one who doesn’t?”
Rafael slid the signed pages aside and reached for the next document. “He’s been part of this longer than you think.”
“How so?” Max asked.
“He noticed,” Rafael said. “Early.”
Laurent laughed under his breath and stood, crossing to the sideboard. “Mon frère,everyonenoticed. Twice.”
“He was the only one who said it to my face.”
That made Laurent pause. He poured the cognac slowly. “So you’re rewarding him for harassing your fiancée.”
“Back then, it was about King,” Rafael said. “Not her.”
Max began dropping his circuit of stones methodically along the wooden cups. “She was still caught in it.”
Laurent handed him a glass.
Rafael reached out with his left hand, then pulled it back as the dull ache in his shoulder made itself known. He took it with his right. “Montenegro will stay in line.”
“Because you said so?”
“Because I’m not King. And he knows it.”
Laurent returned to the sofa just as Max’s final stone landed in an empty cup on his side. Max calmly collected the contents of the opposite one and filled up his store like a poker player pulling in a pot.
“I object to the spirit of that move.”
“Overruled.”
“You can’t advance the board while a player is hydrating.”
Max tapped the wooden edge of the board. “If a ten-minute game leaves you dehydrated, you should see a physician.”
