<b>Chapter </b><b>51 </b>
-HUNTER-
The numbers on myptop screen blur together. I rub my eyes, trying to focus on the Hong Kong deal, but my mind keeps drifting tost night.
To Celine’s wide eyes when she saw me. To the pink flush creeping up her neck. To the way she bit her lip before fleeing <b>my </b>room.
A sharp knock breaks my concentration, followed immediately by my office door swinging open. Only one person enters <b>my </b>office without waiting for permission.
“Cousin dearest!” Caroline sings out, striding in as if she owns the ce. “Still brooding, I see.”
I don’t look up. “I’m busy.”
“You’re always busy,” she says, dropping gracefully into the chair across from my desk. “It’s your default state of being.”
Vincent chuckles from the doorway. I hadn’t noticed him following Caroline in. Great. A tag team.
“What part of ‘busy‘ don’t you understand?” I ask, typing furiously although the words make no sense.
Caroline props her designer boots on the edge of my desk. I re at her until she removes them, grinning unapologetically.
“When was thest time you gotid, Hunter?” she asks bluntly.
Vincent bursts outughing. “I was wondering the same thing.”
I close myptop with a snap. “Is there a point to this visit, or are you just here to irritate me?”
“Both,” Caroline says cheerfully. “It’s a two–for–one special.”
Vincent drops into the chair beside her, still smirking. “She has a favor to ask.”
“Snitch,” Caroline mutters, elbowing him.
I check my watch pointedly. “I have a meeting in twenty minutes.”
“Fine, fine.” Caroline leans forward, all business suddenly. “I need to borrow your cabin this weekend.”
Hoak up, surprised. The cabin at Lake George is my private
“Why?”
treat a ce few people know about and even fewer have visited.
She shrugs, examining her manicured nails. Just need a getaway.”
“Since when do you ‘get away‘ anywhere without an entourage and five–star amodations?”
“People change.”
“Not you,” I say tly.
Vincent snorts. Caroline shoots him a warning look. A suspicion forms. “<b>Aren’t </b>you <b>hanging </b><b>out </b><b>with </b><b>Celine </b><b>anymore</b><b>?</b><b>” </b>
Caroline and Vincent exchange a nce that confirms my guess. Caroline’s eyebrows rise slightly.
“How did you know about that?”
“She told me,” I say, returning to myptop. It’s not exactly a lie. Celine did mention Caroline’s invitationst <b>night </b><b>in </b><b>the </b>garden.
“Hmm.” Caroline sounds unconvinced. “Well, yes, Celine’s involved. It’s her birthday tomorrow, and I want to surprise her..
My fingers freeze on the keyboard. Celine’s birthday. Tomorrow.
“The poor girl works herself to the bone,” Caroline continues, “dealing with your coldness day in and day out. She deserves something special.”
I meet her gaze coolly, but my mind is already racing. Celine’s birthday. No wonder she’d made ns with Caroline. <b>I’d </b>had <b>no </b>idea.
“She has a child,” I say, trying to sound disinterested. “Doesn’t she need something more… appropriate than your usual <b>idea </b><b>of </b><b>a </b>celebration?”
Caroline rolls her eyes. “I’m not nning to take her clubbing, Hunter. Give me some credit.”
“Actually,” Vincent chimes in, “clubbing sounds perfect. When was thest time that girl had fun?”
“No!” Caroline and I shout simultaneously.
We stare at each other. Caroline’s eyes narrow suspiciously.
“Caesar ising along,” she says slowly, watching my reaction. “And Celine’s bringing a friend too<b>.</b><b>” </b>
A friend? Something cold and unpleasant twists in my stomach.
“Male or female?” The question escapes before I can stop it.
Caroline’s lips curve into a knowing smile. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t,” I say quickly. “Just wondering if you needed me to arrange childcare.”
“Right.” Her tone makes it clear she doesn’t believe me, “It’s her friend, ke, she once worked here at the ‘Aurelia‘ And Female too in case you still want to know.”
The tension in my shoulders eases slightly. Not that I care. Celine can have friends of any gender. It’s none of my business.
Except that, it feels like my business.
“So, the cabin?” Caroline prompts.
“What exactly are you nning?” I ask, trying to sound casual.
Vincent leans forward, amused. “Yeah, Caroline. What exactly are you nning?<b>” </b>
She sighs dramatically. “Just a small gathering. Cake, presents, maybe a nice dinner. Nothing wild, I promise.”
I consider her request. The cabin would be perfect for a birthday celebration–private, and beautiful<b>, </b><b>with </b><b>that </b><b>deck </b><b>overlooking </b>
theke. I can picture Celine there, her face lit by sunset<b>, </b>smiling as Caesar ys nearby…
“I’ll have to check my schedule,<b>” </b>I say, making her wait.
Caroline sees through me. “You were never nning to use it this weekend.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Your assistant does.” She smirks. “I already asked her.”
I make a mental note to fire Jessica. Or at least remind her who pays her sry.
“Fine,” I concede. “You can use
it.”
Caroline ps her hands together. “Perfect! Thank you, darling cousin.”
“But,” I added firmly, “no parties. No strangers. Just Celine, her son, and her friend.”
“And me,” Caroline reminds me.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
She stands, smoothing her designer dress. “I should get nning. Not much time to pull this together.”
An idea forms in my mind–sudden, impulsive, probably ill–advised. “Wait,” I say before she reaches the door. “What if I help?”
Caroline turns slowly, eyebrows raised. Vincent sits up straighter, suddenly interested.
“You want to help n Celine’s birthday?” Caroline asks carefully as if making sure she heard correctly.
I shrug, aiming for nonchnce. “The cabin’s mine. I know it better than
you
do.”
“Hunter,” Caroline says, crossing her arms, “in all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never once offered to help n anything that wasn’t a business function.”
“I’m just being practical,” I insist. “You said yourself there’s not much time.”
Caroline and Vincent exchange another look–longer this time.
“What?” I demand.
“Nothing,” Vincent says, unconvincingly. “It’s just… interesting.”
“Very interesting,” Caroline agrees, studying me. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you cared about my little friend.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoff. “I’m her employer. I’m simply ensuring she has a proper birthday.”
“Of course,” Caroline says, voice dripping with sarcasm
“How professional of you.”
I stand,ing around my desk. “Do you want my help or not?”
“Oh, I want it,” Caroline says, grinning. “This is going to be fascinating.”
Vincent rises too, pping me on the shoulder. “I’m staying
this show.”
I re at him, but he justughs.
“Here’s what I’m thinking,” I say, ignoring them both. “We’ll need a cake. Something with chocte <b>I’ve </b>noticed she always take the chocte desserts from the kitchen.”
Caroline’s eyebrows climb higher. “You’ve noticed her dessert preferences?<b>” </b>
“I notice everything in my house,” I say dismissively. “And we should have dinner catered. Something simple <b>but elegant</b>.
“And gifts?” Caroline prompts.
I hesitate. What would Celine want? What would make those warm brown eyes light up with pleasure?
“I have some ideas,” I say cautiously.
Vincent chuckles. “I bet you do.”
I shoot him a warning look. “This stays between us. As far as Celine knows, this was all Caroline’s idea.”
“Why?” Caroline asks, genuinely curious. “Why not let her know you helped?”
Because she’d be suspicious. Because she’d wonder why I cared. Because afterst night, things between us are alreadyplicated enough.
“It’s more professional this way,” I say instead.
“Professional,” Vincent repeats doubtfully.
“Yes,” I insist. “Now, are we doing this or not?”
Caroline studies me for a long moment, then nods slowly. “We’re doing this. But Hunter?”
“What?”
Her expression turns serious. “Be careful with her. Celine isn’t like the women you real responsibilities.”
“I know that,” I say stiffly.
usually… interact with. She has a child. She has
“And she works for you,” Vincent adds quietly. “That’s a power dynamic you can’t ignore.”
I clench my jaw. “This is just a birthday celebration. Nothing more.”
Neither of them looks convinced, but Caroline nods. “Alright then. Let’s n a surprise.” <fnc338> Latest content published on Find1Novel</fnc338>
As they leave my office, already discussing details, I sit back down and open myptop. But instead of returning to the <b>Hong </b><b>Kong </b>deal, I find myself typing in a search:
*Best gift for aspiring artists*
Celine’s dream of art school. The sketches she doesn’t think anyone notices her working <b>during </b><b>her </b><b>breaks</b>. <b>The </b><b>way </b><b>her </b>eyes linger on the paintings in the hallway.
This is just me being thorough, I tell myself. Just me ensuring a sessful event. Nothing personal.
But the flutter in my chest when I imagine her smile says otherwise.