“I-I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Fiona said as she set the timer on the cooker.

“Yes, you do,” Joanna said as her dimples appeared. “Addison will be home shortly, and we both know her reaction...well, let’s just say it could be loud. You don’t need to be around when that happens.”

“But I don’t think I should leave you—”

“Fiona, I’ll be fine. I’m well versed in handling Addison’s explosions, and if she has one, she has one,” Joanna said with a shrug. “It’s not like she can change anything, at least not for a few decades.”

***

Having traveled the roads to The Oaks her entire life, as Addison looked out the window, she knew exactly where she was and how far she was from home, yet her fingers never stopped drumming against the seat of the Bentley.

Anticipation, for most, is learned at an early age. Whether it’s the Easter bunny, the tooth fairy, birthday celebrations, or a holiday with presents wrapped in festive paper, the joy of what tomorrow may bring is ingrained from childhood. Lessons that, for many, carry on throughout their lives, but for Addison, anticipation was as new as it was irritating.

For two weeks she had traveled across Europe, touring factories in need of buyers, technology in need of finance, and companies on the brink of disaster desperate for a way out. She had talked and listened, wheeled and dealed, and by the time she climbed aboard her Gulfstream G650 early that Sunday morning, she knew before the year was over, Kane Holdings would be adding yet another zero to its net worth. That information would put any industrialist in high spirits, but Addison’s mood had nothing to do with money. In just a few short minutes, she’d be seeing Joanna again. A new Joanna, or rather the old one returning. The one with sparkling eyes and a clever wit, but void of caustic remarks and disdain, she’d be happy and anxious to show Addison what was accomplished in her absence.

Addison was already prepared to pile on accolades for a job well done whether it was or it wasn’t, and she’d wave off any problems, big or small. She caught herself smiling again, remembering the old Joanna. Her glee during dinners and how her face lit up as she held a puppy barely bigger than her hand, and then Addison chuckled, thinking of the times the woman had become angry. Damn, angry became Joanna. It was how Addison had left her when she walked from The Oaks over a fortnight before, but it wouldn’t be how she’d find her when she got home. Addison was sure of it.