“I appreciate you looking out for me, truly. But I’m a big girl. I’ll be fine.”
There was that word again. She was starting to suspect her subconscious didn’t quite grasp its meaning.
Julia refocused on her laptop, opening the schedule and inserting her name for Charles’s. She told herself it was just another job. Just another night.
But, deep down, she knew it was another place she didn’t belong. Not anymore. Not as a member, not as anything.
***
Julia arrived with the catering team before dusk. The wide parking area had already filled with familiar cars. Dev’sMediterranean-style house rose above the river, its warm light catching the last streaks of evening. She couldn’t see the water from here, but she could feel it in the air.
To the right, the detached garage and guest rooms glowed softly behind their windows. To the left, beyond the hedged boundary, was the maze with its tall green walls dense enough to swallow sound. Someone had trained mandevilla along the arbor at the entrance, palm-sized pink blossoms bright against the deepening shadows. The subs had named it the labyrinth years ago, half in jest, half in reverence.
Julia stepped out of the van and breathed in a trace of lilac on the breeze. God, she missed this place. Not just the house and the grounds, though they were beautiful, but the people. The easy familiarity. The feeling that she belonged somewhere.
The Underground wasn’t in the same league. It was a soulless dump in comparison.
She shut that thought down before it could take hold. Comparisons wouldn’t help her get through tonight.
Julia fell into step with the catering team, already mapping the setup in her head. Tables at the edge of the lawn. Buffet at the rear. Chafing dishes centered, cold items staged at the far end. Drinks near the bar so thirsty members could come and go without creating a bottleneck.
Even though being here had her on edge, confidence in her skills kept her grounded.
“Hot wells first,” she directed, setting her clipboard down and stepping into the flow. “I want everything ready before the first group comes out.”
“Got it, Jules.”
Work settled quickly into a rhythm: timing, temperature, routine. These were things that behaved as expected, things she could control. Something she couldn’t—her gaze drifting toward the playground. The equipment was already in place:the suspension rigging in the trees, the swings, the shimmering pool, and the cascading waterfall. Julia didn’t need to look; she knew from experience exactly what waited out there. But she couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop looking for him.
Inside the house, visible through the long stretch of windows wrapping Nick and Cari Devlin’s den, members were already gathering. Softer lighting. Lower music. The quieter side of things. Safe, in its own way.
Suppressing a sigh of longing, Julia moved down the line, checking temperatures and burners.
An hour into the service, everything was running smoothly. She stayed anchored to the buffet—adjusting trays, directing staff, stepping in wherever needed. She moved constantly, never lingering long enough for her attention to drift where it shouldn’t, or for her thoughts to catch up.
“Everything under control?”
Julia looked up. Emily stood at the end of the buffet in a fitted black sheath that hit just above the knee—simple, elegant, unmistakably her. Alec was beside her, his hand resting lightly at her waist.
His mouth curved. “When have you known Jules not to have it under control?”
Practically every day since your wedding, she thought, but she kept that to herself.
“Good,” she said instead. “My reputation precedes me.”
Alec’s eyes flicked over her, taking in her catering blacks, the sensible shoes, mass of hair twisted into a tight knot. Not the version of her in silk, lace, and, very often, cuffs he’d been used to seeing here.
“You’ve been missed,” he said, expression sobering, clearly not talking about the food.
Heat crept up her neck. She reached for a serving spoon that didn’t need moving but gave her something to do. “Your wife keeps us jumping,” she said, aiming for casual and missing.
Alec didn’t look convinced.
Emily said nothing at all, which somehow said more.
Julia kept to the kitchen after that, supporting the staff. When something needed doing, she was there before anyone asked. But if she could send someone else out to the patio, she did.
By the time Dev approached, the buffet line was thinning out. Cari was on his arm, stunning in scarlet, the color catching the light every time she moved. Her dark hair fell in soft waves now, caramel streaks threading through it—no longer the shifting disguises of the past.
