Chapter 14 - The Assignment

Raiden’s message came through at four-thirty pm. My phone lit up with three words on my screen; my office, now. His summons used to send a jolt of nerves through me but now, few weeks later, I was feeling something closer to anticipation, which was quite questionable.

He didn’t look up when I came in. “Close the door.”

I did, and stood in front of his desk with my hands loosely folded, waiting for him to let me know why I was called.

“I’m inspecting the Meridian property next week. Staffing logistics, guest services flow, security protocols and all other necessities before the renovation sign-off.” He said, looking at me with an unreadable expression as almost always. “You’re coming with me.”

I did not expect that last part.

“Me? Not Garrick?”

“Garrick’s handling the Whitmore close while I’m gone. I need someone who can take notes and perform the necessary tasks without me having to explain twice.” He paused briefly, almost unnoticeable. “You’ve proven you can do that.”

“What day next week?”

“Wednesday morning. We’ll be back Friday evening.” He slid a folder across the desk rather than placing it directly into my hands like he did the other time, and some small ridiculous part of me observed the distance and wondered if it meant anything. “The itinerary is inside. You’ll need to clear your calendar and make necessary arrangements for anything time sensitive before you leave.”

I opened the folder and scanned through briefly and awkwardly, aware of the set of eyes that were staring me down from across the table. It had the details of the work trip, like he said. Our flight and hotel bookings and aschedule of staff interviews and property walkthroughs stretched across the two full days. Overall, the document was professional enough to look exactly like what he said it was; work. It was the kind of work any competent executive assistant would be assigned without a second thought.

But I still felt like there was more to it.

“You could send anyone from the pool for this,” I said, careful. “Admin support handles trip logistics constantly. This seems like a lot of runway for me to just go and take notes.”

“It’s not just note-taking.” He leaned back slightly, and something in his voice shifted, dropped slightly, the way it did on the nights we were alone too long in the office even when we both knew it wasn't necessary. “I want a second read on the staff. How they present when they think it’s a routine visit versus how they present when they realize ownership is in the building. You’re good at noticing what people don’t say out loud. I want that in the room.”

It was a reasonable answer. It was, on paper, exactly the kind of task delegation that made sense for a man who trusted almost no one and had, for reasons I still hadn’t fully worked out, apparently decided to trust me with pieces of things he didn’t hand off to anyone else.

It still didn’t explain why my pulse hadn’t settled since he’d said said we were going on a trip together.

“Two nights,” I said, mostly to hear how it sounded out loud.

“Separate rooms.” He said it flatly, watching me while he said it, like he’d expected my mind to go exactly where it had gone and wanted to shut out the idea before I could ask. “This is a work trip, Ms. Dalton. Nothing more.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“You were about to.”

I felt heat climb up my neck, caught somewhere between embarrassment and the awareness that he wasn’t wrong. “I’ll clear my calendar,” I said instead, focusing on closing the folder and giving myself something to look at besides him. “Is there anything specific I should prepare before we go?”

“Comfortable shoes. You’ll be on your feet most of both days,” he replied. “And don’t wear anything that makes the staff think you’re there to be looked at instead of to look.”

I glanced up quickly at that, and caught something almost like amusement flicker at the corner of his mouth before it disappeared, gone as fast as it came, replaced by the same emotionless look he wore for everything else.

“Understood,” I said, and turned to go, because staying in that office one more second felt like standing too close to a ledge I wasn’t ready to look over yet.

“Freya.”

I stopped at the door. He almost never used my first name in the office. I had noticed that he reserved it for the moments right before or right after something that mattered.

“This is business,” he said again, quieter this time, like he was reminding himself as much as me.

“I know.”

Neither of us moved for a few seconds, which was longer than we should have, looking directly into each other's eyes. Then he looked back down at whatever was on his desk, and I let myself out and stood in the hallway afterward with the folder pressed against my chest. I couldn't help but think that a man who had to point out that something was only business twice in one conversation had probably already decided, somewhere underneath all that discipline, that it wasn’t.