“I’m working to a deadline. These contracts need to be signed, or else the new surveillance company can’t order the equipment, and the installation will be delayed another month. I don’t know about you, but I don’t like the thought of The Manor with no security. And Sarah needs you to sign off the accounts so she can file the tax returns. So get your motherfucking arse over here and sign some motherfucking papers, boy.”

“Good day?” I ask, throwing a twenty on the table and rising from my chair.

“Don’t test me, Ward.”

“But I have Ava with me,” I whine, even if that’s not technically true. Again, where the heck is she? “I’ll do it in the morn—”

“Do. Not. Test. Me.” The line goes dead, and the pure threat of John’s words has my face screwing up, defeated. He’s right. I can’t risk leaving The Manor so vulnerable, nor the members. Our security is a huge reassurance to our people. “Fuck it,” I mutter, wandering over to my bike, my eyes never moving from the door of Rococo Union. Did I miss her leaving already? Impossible. My stare has been so focused on her office, my eyeballs are sore.

Then I see the door open, and she backs out, pulling it closed behind her. My smile is instant. I push my helmet on and jump on my bike, starting her up and screeching across the road. Ava jumps like a startled cat, swinging around fast.

I remove my helmet and join her on the pavement. Her semi-scowl doesn’t sit well. “Good day at work?”

“Not really.” Her expression is pure, cock-slashing disdain. She’s still cranky? And then I see the bag with the ridiculous dress hanging from her grasp.

Kill it.

I think for a few moments, sprinting through my options. There’s only one. Distract her from her grievance.

I stroke her forearm, working my way down to her hand. My entire body lights up, despite her displeasure. “Can I make it better?”

“I don’t know; can you?”

Silly question. She knows I can, and I know that both thrills her and pisses her off. “I think I definitely can.” I beam at her, my knockout smile. She’s softening. I can see it in her eyes, feel it on her skin, and judging by the way she looks to the heavens, she’s willing herself not to fold under the power of our touching skin. “I’ll always make it better.” I’ll fix everything. Always. “Remember that.”

Her face is quickly incredulous. “But you made it shitty in the first place.”