Page 33 of His Vow

The house was behind them. I stood in the doorway and let it hit me.

A stuffed elephant on the living room rug, its trunk bent sideways. Wooden blocks were scattered beside the couch. A board book splayed open on the coffee table, the page with the cow visible. The kitchen smelled like garlic and thyme, something slow-cooked, with a smell that built over hours. Photographs covered every surface. From the star-magneted ones on the refrigerator to Lena's blue handprint framed over the fireplace and Declan with Thea on a bench, her head on his shoulder.

A house where someone chose love over control. I'd been here before. Tonight, the walls pressed closer.

Thea appeared from the kitchen. A dish towel over her shoulder, flour on her apron, a smear of something red near the pocket. Her dark curls were pulled back. She wiped her hands and extended one toward Soleil.

"Soleil. So good to see you again. The Vanguard dinner feels like ages ago."

Soleil took her hand with both of hers. "Your home is beautiful. And something smells incredible in there."

"My grandmother's stew." Thea glanced toward the kitchen, her nose wrinkling. "I only burned the garlic once, which is a personal record."

"I burn garlic every single time." Soleil pressed her free hand against her chest. "Every. Time."

"Garlic Burners Anonymous." Thea grinned, releasing her hand. "First meeting's in my kitchen. Bring wine."

They moved to the living room together. Soleil crouched beside Lena's toys, picking up the board book, reading the title aloud in a voice that made the baby kick her feet against Declan's hip. Thea settled on the rug beside her, pulled the book open to the cow page, and pressed it. The moo sound filled the room. Lena shrieked.

Soleil asked about the nonprofit. Thea told her about the housing placements, funding gaps, and the women she served. Soleil leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, asking questions that went deeper than polite. Thea's shoulders dropped. Her arms uncrossed. She sat closer.

I stood in the hallway with a beer Declan had pressed into my hand and watched the woman I was using make friends with the woman my partner loved.

Declan appeared at my elbow. "Kitchen," he said. Low. "Bring the beer."

I followed him down the hall. The stew bubbled on the stove. He leaned against the counter and crossed his ankles. I stood across from him.

"I found something at Lattimore." I kept my voice beneath the sound of the stove. "The Hargrove Arts Foundation. Their endowment is leveraged against Lattimore subsidiary debt. The subsidiary is underperforming, overleveraged, no strategic value. One acquisition and the foundation collapses."

Declan set his beer on the counter. "Show me."

I pulled up the notes on my phone — revenue figures, debt ratios, the subsidiary structure I'd mapped during a meeting I was supposed to be paying attention to. He took the phone and scrolled, his eyes moving fast.

"This is clean," he said.

"Legal. Devastating. But the window is narrow. They're restructuring next quarter."

He looked up from the phone. "Why are you bringing me Lattimore targets at a dinner party?"

"Because the window closes in eight weeks."

He studied me. The easy grin was gone. The blue eyes were doing the thing they did when Declan stopped being charming and started being sharp. He handed the phone back.

"Monday. Full file."

"Done."

The Hargrove Foundation had funded Soleil's gallery. Two years of grants. Enough to cover operating costs during the first year. The foundation's collapse would pull funding from a dozen arts programs.

I picked up my beer and drank.

The front door opened. Julian's voice arrived before his body. "I bring wine and apologies, in that order, and the wine is better than the apologies."

He appeared in the living room doorway carrying two bottles of red, his sandy hair pushed back, sleeves rolled, tie gone. He kissed Thea's cheek. "Declan doesn't deserve you. Leave him."

"You say that every time."

"Because it's true every time." He turned, and his eyes found Soleil on the rug. He stopped. Tilted his head. The grin widened into something brighter.