I showered after breakfast, traded the robe for a simple black knit dress that stopped below my knees, left my hair loose after a quick blow-dry, then finally got a chance to drink my coffee without a vehicle entering the pantry.At eight-twenty, the intercom buzzed.I was answering Nina’s email at the island.Gabriella was upstairs helping Max get dressed because, according to the report coming from the ceiling, navy chinos were “too businessman,” and he wanted to wear his monster truck shorts even though the morning air was still cold.I glanced at the security screen and immediately stopped moving, because the man standing near the pedestrian gate was very clearly not Elliot.I lowered my phone slowly and looked at him more closely. No clipboard in his hand, no navy suit far too polished for this hour, and most suspiciously, none of Elliot’s property-liaison smile, the kind that always looked like it had been trained since elementary school to make rich people feel as though all th
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