MasukMy coffee burned hot as I sat in my seat. The Carter twins had bought my company off the previous day and I had immediately clocked out of work early.
Pretending to be sick was easier than staying. I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t have screamed if I had stayed. My desk was full of the unfinished documents I had been interrupted from, and I spent the next 20 minutes obsessively rearranging my desk, trying to convince myself that I had hallucinated the whole of yesterday. It wasn’t like I expected it to work, I had spent the whole night thinking about it, about them. Was I being too vain? Or arrogant? It seemed unfathomable that they would actually spend 2 billion dollars on a company that was worth just 700 million dollars. It seemed even more unfathomable that they would spend all that money to trap me. It seemed more likely that there was a larger power play at work, and I was just the side project. I hoped that was it. I didn’t want to go through everything I went through in that dinner ever again, that sort of unnatural twin rivalry was meant to be far away from my workplace. I chucked down the bitter, now cold, coffee the moment I was done, determined to forget about the Carter twins’ rivalry. I was a managing director before I was the woman they were treating like an object. The large pile of files on my desk diminished quickly, the spite I felt served as the fuel that made my hands move like the wind. There was a knock on my door. “Come in.” Madeline entered. “Ms. Perez… the New Management isn’t waiting for the transition period. They’re in the building. Now…,” Madeline said, a small blush on her cheeks. My eyes narrowed. Those Carters sure knew how to play. They were meant to wait, meant to acclimatize with the environment through meetings with the former major shareholders, they were not meant to resume immediately. “Wonderful, it’s high time we had competent men here. Thank you for informing me, Madeline,” I said, hoping she’d leave, hoping beyond everything that they DIDN’T ask her to call for me. “…um, Ms. Perez, they asked to see the M.D,” Madeline said, standing steadfastly at my door. Ugh. I had to see them. I couldn’t avoid them. It wasn’t exactly like I wanted to avoid them. No, I just wanted to avoid Killian. Kade was my savior, the man in my heart. Killian was his twin I’d wrongly given myself to, and Killian seemed to love making things more complicated. “I’ll be there.” “Mr. Killian is in the litigation lobby,” Madeline said, finally leaving. The lobby? Why wasn’t he in the CEO’s office? I walked out and stopped at the edge of the carpeted common area for the litigation lobby, my fingers curling into my palms. Killian wasn't sitting in the plush designer chairs reserved for high-end clients, or brand new CEOS. No, he was leaning against the cubicle of a junior associate whose name was definitely Linda, his expensive suit jacket unbuttoned, radiating a casual, dangerous heat that I could feel in a phantom way. He was laughing at something she said and I immediately knew why Madeline had been slightly blushing when she had opened the door before. Killian was an incorrigible flirt. He looked like he was paying her maximum attention, but his eyes were roaming, searching really, till they locked onto mine. "Mia," he called out. He didn't use my title. He didn't even use a professional tone. He said my name with the lazy, intimate familiarity of a man who had seen me with my hair spread across a hotel pillow. I grit my teeth automatically. There was nothing I disliked more than not being respected at work. Personal problems were personal, and work was work. I liked to keep it separate. "You look recovered. That 'fever' must have broken quickly." I felt the heat crawl up my neck. He knew I was simply trying to avoid him. "Mr. Carter," I said, my voice as cold as the coffee l'd just finished. "If you're looking for the tour, Madeline would be happy to-" "I don't need a tour of the walls, Mia. I'm interested in the culture of this lovely environment." He straightened up, winking at Linda before walking toward me, his stride predatory. He stopped just an inch too close and I stepped back, not willing to let his scent cloud my judgment. He leaned down, his voice dropping to a low, suggestive vibrato. "I wanted you at breakfast yesterday. We have so much left to... discuss." A collective gasp seemed to ripple through the cubicles. He was marking his territory in front of my subordinates, nearly stripping me of five years of hard-earned authority with a single sentence. How was I supposed to prove I became an M.D through my own hard work clawing up the corporate ladder if the new CEO alluded to knowing me so intimately? I opened my mouth to tear into him, to remind him that this was a place of business, not a playground for his stupid vendettas, but the air in the room suddenly shifted. The automatic glass doors slid open with a hiss. If Killian was like the heat of a fire, Kade was the absolute zero temperature of space. I didn’t know why it didn’t occur to me at first. My savior was protective, gentle, and slightly cold. From the moment I met Killian he was all passion and flame. Kade stepped into the lobby, and the ambiguous atmosphere that Killian was building died. He wore a charcoal suit, his face an unmoving mask. He didn't look at the staff. He didn’t look at his brother. He looked at me. "Killian," Kade said, his voice a low rasp that made the hair on my arms stand up. "This is hardly a quality meeting spot." Killian's smirk didn't falter, but his eyes sharpened, boring holes into his brother. "I'm just getting to know the staff in their natural environment, brother. They’re exceptionally talented people." Kade ignored him entirely, stepping into my space and effectively crowding Killian out. "I spent the night reviewing your litigation strategy for the Henderson merger, Ms. Perez," Kade said. His intensity was a physical weight, pulling me in without even trying. He wasn't talking about breakfast or hotel rooms, he was talking about my mind. It wasn’t hard to know who my favorite Carter was. “Your use of the force majeure clause was aggressive. I like it." I stared at him, momentarily stunned. He'd actually read my briefs? While Killian had been busy plotting how to humiliate me as some sort of punishment for ignoring him, Kade had been studying my work. It was a different kind of violation, it got under my skin in a very different way. "I appreciate the feedback, Mr. Carter," I managed to say, trying to reclaim some shred of my professional mask. "Now, if you both would follow me to the executive suite-" "No," Kade interrupted, his eyes tracking the way my pulse jumped in my throat. "Killian and I have decided to relocate our primary offices to this floor. Directly across from yours." My heart did a slow, painful somersault. "This is the litigation floor. It's loud, it's cramped-" "It's perfect," Killian chimed in, interrupting me and stepping back to my other side. I was flanked on both sides. The man who had stolen my body on my right, and the man who had saved my life, and now owned my career on my left. "Shall we?" Killian asked, gesturing toward the long glass hallway that led to my office. I swallowed.Spring came back to the garden in April, the way it always did, with the particular, unhurried confidence of something that had been here before and intended to be here again and had no interest in making anything of it beyond simply arriving.Killian was in the beds at seven on a Saturday morning, the specific, early quality of someone who had been waiting for the season to turn sufficiently that there was real work to be done, and who had been watching the garden through the winter with the patient, attentive love of someone for whom absence was not absence but simply the part of the cycle that made the return possible.Eli was with him, as he always was on Saturday mornings, notebook in hand, the longitudinal study now in its ninth year, the emergence data building into something that Dr. Marchetti had described, in their most recent exchange, as potentially the most comprehensive amateur phenological record in the country for this specific garden ecosystem.He was eleven now, and
Eloise died in January, on a Tuesday morning, quietly and in her own house, which was what she had wanted and what had been possible, which was the specific, particular grace of an ending that matched the life it concluded.Killian called me from her house at half past nine, and the quality of his voice when he said my name was the specific, contained quality he had when he was holding something enormous and choosing how to hold it rather than whether to."She's gone," he said.I sat down, because the information required sitting down for."How?" I asked."The carer found her this morning," he said. "The cardiologist said it would have been peaceful. In her sleep." A pause, the particular quality of someone choosing their next words because they mattered. "She was in the chair by the window. The one she always sat in when she was reading. She had a book in her lap."I held that image for a moment, Eloise in her chair by the window with a book in her lap, having simply moved from readi
Eloise's last Sunday dinner at our house happened in November, though none of us knew at the time that it was the last one, which was perhaps the most honest thing about it.She arrived with the carer, a practical arrangement that she'd accepted with the graceful, unsentimental pragmatism that characterised her approach to all the adjustments the autumn had required, and sat at the head of the kitchen table in the configuration that was simply how this family occupied this room, and was present in the specific, entirely herself way she'd been present for fifteen years of Sunday dinners.She was thinner. Her hands, when she reached for her glass, had the particular, fine quality of hands that had given what they had to give and were now simply resting in the time that remained. But her eyes were entirely her own, clear and direct and warm, and her attention was as complete as it had ever been.Hope sat beside her, which had become their configuration in the months since Hope's solo vis
The change in Eloise came in September, gradually at first and then with the particular, undeniable quality of something that had been accumulating beyond the visible for some time and had reached the point where it could no longer be contained within the ordinary rhythms of a Sunday dinner and a phone call.She was tired in a way that was different from the ordinary tiredness of age, the specific, bone-deep quality of a body that was doing less than it had and requiring more than it had needed before. The cardiologist was clear and honest, which was the quality we'd come to expect and appreciate from her, that the heart was managing but that managing was increasingly what it was doing, rather than simply functioning.We had a conversation, all of us, the kind that required the full honesty of people who had spent years learning to have exactly this kind of conversation and who brought to it the specific, hard-won skill of not managing their way around the difficult truth in the centr
Hope's GCSE results arrived in August, on a Thursday morning that began like any other Thursday morning in the household and then, at precisely eight-thirty when the results portal opened, became something else.She had taken eleven subjects and the results were released simultaneously, which meant that the specific quality of the morning was the particular, suspended stillness of waiting for a comprehensive accounting rather than a single outcome.She sat at the kitchen table with her laptop, the three of us arranged around her with the deliberate casualness of people trying not to communicate the level of attention they were actually paying, and opened the results with the composed, methodical quality that was simply how she engaged with things she'd worked toward.She read them. All eleven, in the order they appeared on the screen, with the focused, absorbing attention of someone making sure they'd understood what they were seeing before forming a response.Then she set the laptop
The second book was finished in December, on a Tuesday afternoon when both children were at school and the house had the particular, quiet quality of winter daylight that made the kitchen feel like the only warm place in the world.I wrote the last paragraph at the kitchen table, in the same notebook Killian had given me years ago, now full enough that the pages at the back had the specific, compressed quality of a document that had held a great deal, and I sat with it for a while after I'd finished, the way you sat with something that had required a long time and a great deal of honesty to complete and that you were not quite ready to release from your immediate attention into the world.The second book was different from the first in every way that mattered. The first had been, essentially, autobiography, the honest account of a practice I'd lived and the understanding that practice had produced. The second was something harder, the attempt to write accurately about experiences I ha
I woke up the next morning to my head splitting in two from a migraine. I groaned and pushed myself off the bed, dreading the work day ahead of me already. After that dinner with Killian and Kade, well, the train wreck I barely survived, I had headed home and forced myself to go to bed. Unfortunate
"Who's dating Killian?"I knew who spoke before I saw his face. That voice was unmistakable. I pulled away from Killian and turned to come face to face with Kade. His gray eyes landed on me and he made a face, like he had seen me somewhere before but couldn't quite place his finger on it.I stayed
It took an entire bottle of bourbon to make me forget what I had done days ago and an entire barrage of messages from Killian to bring me back to reality. I grimaced at my phone screen when another text from him popped up. This was his fifteenth one in three days and even after I blocked him, Killi
The room was quiet except for the sound of our uneven breathing. My mind and body drained from the wave of pleasure and ecstasy I had just come down from. I knew that Kade Carter was an amazing man but I had no idea that he was an amazing lover as well."God, you're amazing." The man of my dreams m







