LOGINIsla sat down right where she was.The coffee shop kept going around her, the espresso machine hissing, someone laughing near the counter, and none of it touched her, not for a second."What does full mean," she said. Her voice came out careful, like she was handling something that might break if she wasn't gentle with it."It means the cellular markers they've been tracking," Zachary said, "the progression indicators. They're all within normal range. She said she'd want to monitor it for another six months before she'd use the word definitively, but—""But," Isla repeated."But she used the word full."Isla pressed her hand over her mouth. Her eyes went hot and she didn't try to stop it."Where are you," she said, when she trusted her voice again."My office.""Stay there." She was already on her feet, phone wedged against her shoulder, gathering her bag and her laptop with hands that weren't quite steady. "Don't move.""I wasn't planning to.""I mean it, Zachary. Don't move."She wa
Isla put her fork down and looked at him across the table."I'm taking it," she said. "Dublin. I called them back today."Zachary set his glass down slowly. "You said yes.""I said yes.""When do you start.""Officially, after the wedding. But they want preliminary drawings within the first month, so realistically, I start thinking about it the second we're back from Ireland."He nodded, watching her, something steady and pleased sitting behind his eyes."So we're doing this," she said. "New York and Dublin. Splitting it.""I've been thinking about it longer than you probably realize.""How much longer.""Since before you told me about the commission." He turned his glass slightly on the table, not quite looking at her. "Reid's been restructuring things at Cole Global for months. Less of me in the building day to day. It started because the doctors required it. It's turned into something I actually want.""You want to work less.""I want a life that isn't built entirely around the com
The inside of the shop was quieter than Zachary expected, all clean lines and soft lighting, nothing like the noisy, crowded place he'd pictured.A woman with sleeves of ink down both arms looked up from behind the counter."You must be the wedding party," she said. "Caden called ahead.""I did," Caden said, entirely too pleased with himself. "I like to prepare people.""For what," Zachary said."For you," Caden said. "You have a very specific energy. She needed to know what she was working with."The artist looked between them, clearly recalibrating something."Okay," she said slowly. "Who's up first?""Him," Caden said, pointing at Zachary. "Before he changes his mind.""I haven't agreed to anything yet.""You agreed outside. I have witnesses." Caden gestured at Reid and Sloane, who had followed them in and taken up positions against the wall like men attending a trial rather than a bachelor party."I witnessed nothing," Reid said. "I was drinking.""You were listening.""I was also
The whiskey room was small, dim, and smelled like leather and old wood, four glasses already poured and waiting on the table when they walked in."Okay," Zachary said, looking around. "This is not what I agreed to.""You agreed to a bachelor party," Caden said, dropping into the chair at the head of the table like he owned the place. "You didn't specify parameters on the venue.""I specified nothing embarrassing.""This is the opposite of embarrassing. This is tasteful. Sit down."Reid was already pulling out a chair, and Sloane took the one across from him, quiet as always, but there was something looser in his shoulders that hadn't been there in years."Nobody's going to recognize you here," Caden said, sliding a glass toward Zachary. "That's the whole point. This place doesn't do business crowds. It does people who actually care about whiskey."Zachary picked up the glass, turned it slightly under the light."How long have you had this booked?""Six weeks.""Six weeks.""I asked yo
Nobody said anything for a moment.The coffee cups sat between them, and the street kept moving, but the bench itself felt very still.Isla didn't reach for her hand. Didn't say anything soft or careful. She just sat there, letting the silence hold.Odette set her cup down on the pavement, slowly, and looked at Wren directly."I was engaged too," she said. "Before Sloane. You didn't know that."Wren turned to look at her."No," she said. "I didn't.""Isla knows," Odette said. "Has known for years. Never once brought it up, which I've always appreciated more than she probably realizes."Isla gave a small nod, but didn't speak."His name was Marcus," Odette said. "We were together four years. Engaged for one. Three weeks before the wedding, he told me he wasn't ready. Not that he didn't love me. Just that he wasn't ready, as if that made it kinder.""I'm sorry," Wren said quietly."Don't be, it was a long time ago," Odette said, waving a hand, though her voice didn't quite match the ges
The boutique smelled like champagne and fresh flowers, all soft gold light and racks of white and ivory fabric.Wren stood just inside the door in her blazer, looking like she'd wandered into the wrong building entirely."Okay," she said. "I feel very overdressed for being underdressed.""You look fine," Isla said, looping an arm through hers and pulling her further in. "You look like you're about to close a merger. It's a good look.""Is it, though.""No," Odette said, breezing past them both with the energy of a woman on a mission. "But we'll fix that later. Right now we need champagne and a chair for you and a dress for her."A young woman appeared from behind a curtain, clipboard in hand, smile enormous."Gorgeous, hi, welcome, I'm Becca, and can I just say, gorgeous dress energy in here already, I can feel it—""That's a lot of enthusiasm for a Tuesday," Wren murmured."She means well," Isla whispered back."Now," Becca continued, unbothered, "who's the bride, who's the mother of
Theo's message came at 8:14 a.m.“Reid mentioned you're working in the Cole Global building. I have a consultation there Tuesday. Lunch after?”Isla read it on the subway, one hand on the overhead rail.She smiled and typed back.Tuesday works.I'll find you, he replied.I'll be on the fourteenth f
Reid's dinner parties were never actually dinner parties.Isla figured that out within the first ten minutes.The food was real — properly cooked, properly served, the kind of meal that required actual effort — but the people were too carefully chosen for it to be casual. Everyone in the room knew
She arrived at 8:58 am.Zachary's PA, a composed woman named Diana who had worked for him for seven years and prided herself on being unshockable, did a very subtle double take when Isla Simmons stepped out of the elevator — portfolio under one arm, slightly windswept from the New York morning, loo
Isla was on her knees on the fourteenth floor, unpacking the last crate of framed prints, when her phone rang.She almost didn't answer. Her hands were full and her hair was in her face and she had seventeen things left to do before the afternoon walkthrough with the building's events coordinator.







