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As she made her way back to her desk, she called back to him. “Well, I'll be here if you need anything. You know where to find me.”

“Thanks, Joyce.”

She peered up through her glasses with one last look of concern. “Oh, and Ethan, honey? Maybe get some coffee, ya’ look like you could use it.”

He laughed sluggishly. She was right about that at least. “Good call.” Ethan stood up, the promise of coffee giving him the motivation he needed, but stopped when he caught sight of someone approaching their office door.

Ethan froze when he saw that Preston was walking toward their office door.

That was twice in a few weeks, the most he’d ever seen him in such a short amount of time.

What does he want, now? he thought.

The last time Preston came down was to ask them to delete Jake's emails. That had been weird enough. Anytime Preston paid them a visit, it meant something was up.

Ethan’s pulse quickened as Preston passed through the sea of cubicles like a shark swimming through shallow water, grossly out of place.

Ethan looked over at Joyce, who had also noticed him. She quickly sat up straight at her desk, her expression shifting to guarded and alert as the doorknob turned and the door swung open.

Preston strode in, hands in the pockets of his tailored suit, hair slicked back, and Ethan was reminded where Jake had gotten his sense of style from.

He looked expensive and polished, like a textbook heir to a corporate empire, but Ethan always saw the smugness lurking just beneath the surface.

Preston stopped between Joyce and Ethan’s desks. “Ward. Joyce.” He nodded at each of them, slightly slurring his words. “Got a minute?”

Is he drunk? It’s literally 9:30 AM.

“Of course, Mr. Willows. How can we help you?” Joyce replied, her tone overtly sweet. Her fifteen years of corporate survival instincts were coming through strong.

Ethan realized he was still standing and quickly sat back down in his chair. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the fog that clouded his mind. “Uh, absolutely. What can we do for you?” he murmured.

Preston’s gaze lingered on Ethan, his face contorting into a grimace. “Jesus, Ward. You look like shit.”

Ethan blinked, caught off guard by his rude, albeit accurate observation. “I–uh…” he stammered.

“You alright?” Preston asked, but didn't wait for a response, waving his hand dismissively. “Anyway. I wanted to stop by and personally invite you.” He paused, as if they should be kissing his feet. “I, uh, know the last few weeks have been difficult, with Jake’s passing and whatnot,” he recited, avoiding their gaze. His words came out hollow and rehearsed, like he was reading from a script memorized from an HR memo.

Invite us to what? he thought.

Ethan’s gaze darted over to Joyce. Her body was rigid and tense, but her face remained neutral. “It’s been…an adjustment,” Joyce said slowly. If there was anything he’d learned working with Joyce, it was that you had to think long and hard before speaking when it came to people like the Willows.

“Right, right,” Preston said, his expression robotic and empty. “Which is why I wanted to say how much I appreciate you during this time, and your commitment to the company.” He paused, looking them intently in their eyes. “Your discretion has not gone unnoticed.”

Commitment. Discretion.

Ethan saw right through him, and his stomach turned. They both sat there, the silence deafening. Preston knew exactly what he was doing.

Joyce finally broke the silence. “We’re just doing our jobs, Mr. Willows.”

Preston's laugh boomed in their tiny office space, echoing off the walls. “And doing it well.” He smiled at them, but it didn't reach his eyes. “Which is why I wanted you both to join the company's annual yacht party next Saturday.” He stood back studying their faces, his legs spread wide, arms crossed.

Neither Joyce nor Ethan said anything, just stared at him in stunned silence.

Preston was inviting them to the annual yacht party? He’d heard stories from Jake, who had been invited every year, always making sure to brag about how wild and privileged it was to be there.

Ethan saw right through the bullshit.

Preston’s brow raised as he waited for a response, then quickly added, “It’s usually only for senior-level executives and high-profile clients, but I’m making an exception for you two…” He glared at them, and Ethan could tell they didn't have much choice in the matter.