Chapter 3

Ethan handed me a forest-green document case from my favorite antiquarian bookstore.

Before we married, he used to go there whenever he needed to apologize. The owner accepted appointments only and had a famously foul temper, but Ethan would wait half a day if that was what it took to find me an out-of-print novel.

He always said my smile when I opened a book made every minute worth it.

Warmth flickered through my fingers as I accepted the case. “You remembered—”

The words died when I opened the clasps.

There was no book inside. The case held a smashed laptop, an unreadable external drive, and a pile of half-finished presentation notes with Madeline’s name on the cover.

“She’s pitching to the investment committee tomorrow afternoon,” Ethan said. “Her laptop broke, and the deck isn’t finished.”

He pushed the case toward me.

“You know North Shore’s numbers better than anyone. Help her rebuild the deck tonight.”

I looked at him.

“You fired me three hours ago.”

His expression barely changed.

“Technically, Beacon Capital asked for your resignation. That doesn’t mean you have to stop helping the company.”

I stared at him for a moment.

“It means I don’t work there anymore.”

“You’re fast with pitch decks. It’ll take you a few hours.” His tone softened. “Maddie’s already been through enough tonight. She’s not like you. She can’t take that kind of pressure.”

I pushed the case back.

“It’s her job.”

His patience thinned.

“Aless, stop making this about what happened tonight.”

“I’m not. I’m telling you I’m not doing the work of the woman I just lost my job protecting.”

“Fine.” He tugged at his tie. “Then I’ll use another make-up card.”

That was number ninety-eight.

He didn’t remember where the box was, but he was certain it was full.

I booked an emergency data-recovery service. “I’ll have a technician recover what they can. Madeline can finish the rest.”

Mistaking that for surrender, Ethan relaxed. “I knew I could count on you.”

“The technician needs the account password and the original source files.” I slid the case toward him. “Tell Madeline to send both before midnight.”

“You have access to the shared drive.”

“Not to her private account, and I’m not forging her work for her.”

He opened his mouth to argue, then seemed to decide he had already won because I had called for help. That was another habit of his: he heard the part of my answer that made his life easier and discarded the rest.

His phone rang. The moment he saw the name, he stepped onto the terrace. The glass door didn’t shut all the way, and Madeline’s excited voice carried inside.

“The signed copy of The Winter Garden is gorgeous! I only mentioned it once. I can’t believe you actually found one.”

Ethan laughed under his breath. “You wanted it when we were kids. Of course I bought it when I found it.”

“The owner told me you waited outside for four hours.”

“It was no big deal. I’m glad you like it.”

I stared at the green bookstore case at my feet and finally understood why it was here. Ethan had waited four hours to put the real gift in Madeline’s hands, then used the packaging to bring me her mess.

Whatever she said next wiped the smile from his face. He hurried back inside and grabbed his keys. “Maddie got an email from the investment committee, and she’s having trouble breathing again. I’m going over.”

I stopped him at the study door. “If you don’t come home tonight, can I use the last make-up card?”

My voice was so calm that he smiled. “Sure, but you won’t need it. I’ll be home before midnight.”

He kissed my forehead. “Don’t get in your head. I won’t be long.”