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Marco studied her for a long moment. Then he put his phone away and picked up a rolling pin. “Sure. Meetings.”
Devney arrived at eight with a bottle of prosecco. Her face said she already knew everything.
“The text Marco sent said, ‘Come at eight for breakfast and don’t ask questions,’” Devney said, standing the bottle on the counter like evidence. “I’m asking questions.”
“Don’t.”
“Lucy.”
“Devney.”
They stared at each other. Devney’s face softened into something dangerous. She’d been waiting years for this moment, and she was not about to let it pass unremarked.
“Thursday night,” Devney said.
“Nothing happened Thursday night.”
“Your eyebrow is doing the thing.”
“I don’t have a thing.”
“Your eyebrow twitches when you’re lying. It’s been twitching since I walked in.” Devney pulled out a stool and sat. “Now. Details. Leave nothing out.”
Lucy turned back to the stove, her cheeks warm, the croissants in the oven and the butter melting in a pan. She wasn’t going to tell Devney the details. She wasn’t going to tell anyone. The details were hers.
But the shape of the details, that much she could share.
“He took me to his father’s grave on Wednesday,” Lucy said. “He introduced me. To a headstone.”
“And?”
“And we talked.”
“You talked.”
“We talked. The way we have been all summer, his father, the Oath, the things he carries around like quarterly reports.” Lucy slid a tray of croissants into the oven. “And then last night he came to the back door. And he didn’t leave.”
Devney was quiet. When Lucy turned around, Devney’s eyes were bright.
“That’s not a firefighter,” Devney said. “That’s not a warm-up. That’s not a phase.”
“I know.”
“Lucy.”
“I know.”
Devney stood and pulled her into a hug that lasted longer than usual. Lucy let her. The kitchen smelled like butter and sugar and warmth. After years alone, she was finally, finally, not.
Gabriel arrived at eight thirty with pour-overs from the Ethiopian roaster on Seventh Avenue, the single-origin kind Lucy’s machine couldn’t make, the good kind, not the emergency kind.
“Ronan sends his regards,” Gabriel said, setting the cups on the counter. “He’s in a meeting. He said, and I quote, ‘Tell Lucy I am experiencing a positive emotional response to her news, which I will categorize and report later.’”
“Tessa wanted to come,” Gabriel went on. “She has a venue walk-through she can’t move and a caterer she doesn’t trust. She says to tell you she expects a full report, itemized, and that she’s happy for you, which from Tessa is basically a parade.”
“That’s the most Ronan thing I’ve ever heard,” Lucy said.
“He also asked Marco to check the shelf was still level. He wanted you to know it is.”
