Chapter 83:


    Isolde felt heat rise in her cheeks. Not shame. Rage. Pure, molten rage.


    “Excuse me.”


    A hand settled on Isolde’s shoulder. Warm. Firm.


    She turned.


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    And Roth stood there in a casual linen suit, looking as though he had just stepped off a yacht —pletely, infuriatingly at ease.


    “Sorry I’mte,” And said, his voice smooth. “Traffic on Fifth is a nightmare.”


    Grayson’s face went ck. “Roth? What are you doing here?”


    And ignored him entirely. He crouched down and peered behind the coat rack.


    “Hey there, little one,” And said softly. “I’m And. Remember me?”


    Effie peeked out. She studied his eyes — crinkled at the corners, kind. She nodded slowly.


    And stood and walked to the counter. He produced a card from his pocket — not stic, but heavy anodized titanium.


    “Thedy and the child will take everything they’ve selected,” And told the sales associate. “And add the winter collection for the girl. She’s going to need a warm coat.” He set the card down with a quiet click. “Put it on the Orbital ount. Employee welfare.”


    Grayson stepped forward, fists tightening. “You’re paying for her clothes? Is that what she is now? A charity case?”


    And turned and regarded Grayson with mild amusement. “Charity? No. Isolde is my Chief Engineer. This is a signing bonus. We take care of our talent, Lancaster. We don’t starve them.” He nced pointedly at the ck card in Grayson’s hand. “You can keep your department store buyout. We prefer quality over quantity.”


    He picked up the shopping bags the clerk had assembled.


    “Ready to go?” And asked Isolde. “The realtor is waiting.”


    Isolde looked at Grayson. He was turning a shade of purple she had never seen before — impotent, diminished, small.


    She hooked her arm through And’s. “Yes. Let’s get out of here. The air is stale.”


    They walked out, leaving the trio standing amid the racks of expensive clothes.


    “I can’t believe him!” Belle shrieked as they disappeared through the doors. “Gray, do something!”


    “Shut up, Belle,” Grayson snapped.


    Outside, the air was clean and bright.


    “Thank you,” Isolde said quietly as they waited for And’s car. “You didn’t have to do that.”


    “I enjoyed it,” And grinned. “Besides, you represent Orbital now. Can’t have you walking around in rags.”


    In the back seat of the car, Effie reached out and touched And’s sleeve.


    “You’re nice,” she said. “Not like Daddy.”


    And’s expression softened into something profound.


    “Thank you, Effie,” he said. “That’s the bestpliment I’ve ever received.”


    The apartment in Tribeca was a fortress of ss and concrete. The lobby was quiet, manned by a doorman who looked as though he had once yed professional football. He nodded at And.


    “Mr. Roth. Good to see you.”


    “This is Ms. Carson,” And said. “She’s the new resident of 4B. Full ess.”


    The elevator opened directly into the unit. It was spacious, with wide-nk oak floors and floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the Hudson River. Clean lines, open space, uncluttered by anything unnecessary.


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