Page 123 of Late Harvest

“Ok, let’s get you seated,” Honor chimed in, so petite next to her tall husband. Yet, Remy had the immediate impression of them fitting together like puzzle pieces. “This couch is comfortable, but it can’t hold a candle to Couchie.”

Brinder smiled tenderly at his wife, dropping a kiss on her head and taking the sleeping baby from her arms. “Honor loves our couch more than she loves me.”

Honor grinned. “Not at all.” She took Remy’s arm and guided her to the comfy leather. “It’s a tie.”

Sinking onto the couch at her side, it was Sebastian’s turn to laugh.

Lila handed her Chicane, and Remy exhaled, calmer now that she could confirm for herself that he was ok. He chittered at her and she buried her face in his fur, inhaling the soothing hay scent.

As Remy settled herself against Sebastian and cooed at their little prince, Lila, Geneva, and Nell sorted themselves into breakfast room chairs that had been placed in a semi-circle across from the couch. Honor settled onto one of the club chairs, while Brinder perched on its tufted leather ottoman with Jude in his arms. Grayton hovered nearby, intently listening to a phone call as he leaned against the bank of floor-to-ceiling windows that stretched the length of the room.

“We brought wine.” Nell lifted her glass, avoiding eye contact with anyone other than the women she knew. Before Brinder could get the objection out, she continued smoothly, “For us. It’s sparkling water for you, Remy. Lila brought your favorite cherry lime from the grocery store. We’re going to drink wine and you’re going to fill us in.”

Damn. For an introvert, Nell could command a room like a field general. Hidden talents.

Remy wasn’t sure she was ready to fully explain her reaction to the vandalism. She’d just opened her mouth to deflect their concern—a practiced skill of hers—when the riveted steel door swung open, and another woman strode in, like the hardwood floors were a runway. Or a board room.

Remy’s jaw dropped.

“Holy shit,” Lila breathed. She turned to Gen, adding under her breath, “Just checking something here. Am I drunk from half a glass, or did a nineties supermodel just walk into the room?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Benny Tambeaux chimed, utterly unfazed by the four women staring at her, mouths agape. “I was across the hall when Honor texted me.”

Her gaze landed on Grayton’s and snagged, an electric tension filling the room. It was as if there was an invisible live wire arcing between them.

Benny’s trademark ice blue eyes tore from Grayton, shifting to Remy and Sebastian, softening in sympathy. “I heard what happened, Bash and Dr. Remington. I’m so sorry for that and for the interruption. I’ll get out of your hair momentarily. I just wanted to offer my support for anything you might need.” She nodded at Sebastian. “I know Slash is probably all over this for you, but I’m here if you need anything.”

Benny scanned the room, eyes landing on everyone except Grayton. She lifted a few delivery bags, placing them on the island. “I wasn’t sure if anyone had an opportunity to eat dinner. I ordered food. It’s the least I can do.”

In the last two days, Remy had attended a premiere with Bash Wheatley, her very recent fiancé. Then her house was vandalized, possibly by a stalker. Then she had her first panic attack in more than a decade. And now a famous model-turned-uber agent stood in the same room.

Remy did another quick grounding exercise, just to be sure she wasn’t disconnected from reality, or even that the last two months weren’t simply a fever dream.

Glued to her side, Sebastian brushed his free hand over the back of hers, which was still laced with his. He pressed a small kiss to her lips. “I love you,” he whispered against them.

If this was a dream—even though the whole vandalism thing definitely sucked—Remy wasn’t sure she wanted to wake up.

Pulling back, she saw her own feelings reflected in Sebastian’s eyes. “I know,” she whispered back, quoting the signature line from Han Solo to Princess Leia. It worked. Sebastian hung his head and chuckled.

Relief evident in the more relaxed lines of his body, Sebastian remembered his manners. “Arabella, please meet Benny Tambeaux. She’s my sister’s agent. And, apparently a new tenant in this building?”

Benny nodded. “Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Remington, though I’m sorry about the circumstances.”

“Please, call me Remy. Nice to meet you, circumstances notwithstanding.” Remy managed a smile, trying not to feel overwhelmed by the star power in the room between Bash, Honor, and Benny. “These are my friends, Lila, Nell, and Gen.”

“Hi, Benny Tambeaux.” The agent’s light blonde hair grazed her shoulders as she gave a small wave, her signature pale blue eyes surprisingly warm.

“We know.” Lila’s curly ponytail bounced as she nodded vigorously. “Um…I mean, hi? It’s nice to meet you. I mean, obviously what happened to Doc’s house isn’t nice. But…oh shit,” she muttered under her breath, turning again to Geneva. “I’m trying really hard not to fangirl and I’m pretty sure I’m going to say something stupid. Actually I think I already did. I’m babbling. Please save me.”

Gen snickered, then she and Nell chorused their hellos.

Benny glanced at one of the opened bottles. “Someone has excellent taste.”

“That would be me!” Lila chirped, her cheeks flaming bright red. “Well, actually Remy. It’s her favorite. I—uh—I bought some on the way here.” She tilted her head apologetically at Remy. “Brinder already read us the riot act that you shouldn’t drink alcohol right now, but I bought a second bottle for when he clears you.” Lila blushed furiously again, clearly a bit overwhelmed at the star power in the room, even though she’d met Sebastian many times already.

“You’re welcome to stay,” Nell offered shyly from her spot. “We’re just checking on Remy. And”—she waved to the bottle—“drinking some red.”

“If you’re sure…” Benny led, eyes flitting to Grayton.