Page 195 of The Sweetest Return

“The Andre Jones handled something face.”

“I do not have that face.”

“You absolutely do.”

“Please remember I sign off on your performance review.”

Her smile widened. “Yes, ma’am.”

By seven that evening, I stood inside a private terminal with the bracelet secured, one carry-on packed too quickly, and a Saint Aurelia garment bag over my arm.

Dre arrived in dark jeans, a black cashmere sweater, and a charcoal Loro Piana coat, moving through the terminal like the kind of money that had stopped introducing itself years ago. He knew which counters required his attention and which people were already paid to have answers.

He kissed my cheek when he reached me.

Not my mouth.

Somehow, that felt more intimate.

“You okay?”

“I am standing in a private terminal because you turned my logistical nightmare into an itinerary in under half an hour.”

“So yes?”

“So I am processing.”

His mouth curved. “Process on the plane.”

A man in a dark suit approached with paperwork.

Dre stepped beside me rather than ahead.

“This is Imani Bennett,” he said. “She’s the client lead for Saint Aurelia. Anything concerning the jewelry goes through her.”

The man's attention shifted to me immediately.

That simple sentence moved through me more deeply than the plane waiting outside.

Dre had enough money and authority to take over a room without ever intending harm. Men accustomed to both did it all the time, smoothing a path and accidentally becoming the only person anyone looked toward once the door opened.

He didn't.

He had opened the door and made certain everybody understood I was the reason we were walking through it.

I reviewed the insurance confirmation, signed the transport acknowledgment, confirmed the security names, and watched the staff handle the Saint Aurelia garment bag like it contained part of the federal reserve.

Dre stayed close.

Quiet unless I needed him.

The aircraft waited beneath the hangar lights with its steps lowered, and I stopped at the bottom long enough for him to notice.

“What?”

“I’m having a moment.”

“You scared to fly private?”