We land in the city as the sun sets, the night allowing us the shelter of a moonless night. Storms brew in the distance, somehow off the nearby bay, while others seem to brew right here with us. I don’t know what triggered Mia back in the airport, but I know my future wife, and she’s sliding into a hornet’s nest of emotions. I need to get her home, get her alone, and place everything else on hold.
Once we’re on the ground, and in the back of a Walker-driven SUV that’s driving us home, Mia pressed close to my side, I text Blake: Move the meeting to the office tomorrow morning.
He replies with: I know this is a bad time, but it only gets worse if we don’t prepare for what comes next.
My jaw wants to snap. I type a reply: You. Just you. I’ve met Blake’s wife. She’s pleasant, but I don’t want Mia to have to perform socially.
He replies quickly: Understood, but Mia has lived through trauma, and she’s another woman. If you change your mind, she might be a good ear for Mia.
I consider his comment and regroup. I want to be Mia’s security blanket, but more than anything I want her to not need one at all. I reply with: Bring her. And thank you and her.
“Everything okay?” Mia asks, squeezing my hand.
I lean over and brush my lips over hers. “Just coordinating with Blake. He’s bringing his wife,” I add, not certain if I’ve mentioned this to her before now. “Is that okay with you?”
“Of course. Anyone who can help us get this behind us, and get Ri’s influence out of your operation, is exactly what we need.”
A profoundly Mia response. She’s selfless. She’s giving. She’s a warrior. Somehow I need her to see that feeling shaken and scared, human responses to trauma doesn’t change that. “Are you hungry?”
“A little,” she says, which isn’t Mia. She’s always hungry.
“How about our favorite Chinese place?” I ask, trying to offer her what she’s craving. Normalcy. A walk down memory lane, from our past, the part we both missed.
Her lips curve. “Yes. I’d like that.”
“Now, or after Blake and Kara leave?” I query.
“After they leave.” Her delicate little brow furrows. “Well, unless we need to feed them?”
“They know we need time to decompress.”
“Then after they leave.” She smiles again. “Like old times.”
“Like old times.”
A few minutes later, Adrian turns right instead of left, and my cellphone rings. It’s Blake. “Why am I certain I won’t like this call?”
“There’s a news team that just brought in cameras. Someone tipped them off that you’re back. They’re at every door. You’re going to deal with this tomorrow morning. Don’t do it tonight. I reserved the Ritz presidential suite for you. Take it, man. We’ll meet you there.”
A muscle in my jaw begins to tick and I glance at Mia, prepared to explain. “I heard,” she says. “I don’t have any work clothes with me.”
Blake responds to her through me. “Kara and I can go to your place and grab what you need.” I intend to repeat this to Mia, but she holds up a hand.
“I heard again.” She presses her fingers to her temples and nods, before casting me a sideways look. “If it’s what we need to do, it’s what we need to do.”
“We’ll meet you at the hotel,” I say, and then call out to Smith and Adrian. “The Ritz,” before I speak to Blake again. “How long are we going to be stuck there?”
“I’d give it a week. We’ve already made arrangements to get you in and out of your offices tomorrow without challenge.”
I don’t ask how. I trust Blake. The problem is that my staff won’t. They’ll be overwhelmed. They’ll be shaken. “Like I said. We’ll see you at the hotel.” I disconnect, and speak to Mia. “Sorry, baby. Not the homecoming you were hoping for, I know.”
“But it’s still the right decision. You have to be at the office tomorrow. We have to be at the office tomorrow. Everyone needs to see that we’re good. That we’re okay.”
I cup her face and tilt her gaze to mine. “You, woman, are my superhero.”
“Funny,” she says, covering my hand with hers. “I was going to say the same about you. Room service in bed with you is my new goal for the night. I mean, how many girls get to sleep in the presidential suite with her future husband and it’s not even her honeymoon yet?”
“At this moment, I believe my father would say, ‘You chose well, my son. You chose well.’”
“And then he’d order us one of everything on the dessert menu,” Mia says. “Because that’s how he dealt with things. He always found the good stuff everywhere.”
“Are you suggesting we order everything on the dessert menu?” I tease.