Page 154 of The Darkest Chase

Yep, I’m limping a tiny bit after all, still feeling Micah with every step. But at least I had the good sense to wear thick-soled boots.

They help soften the walk as I head up the hill with a confidence I don’t deserve.

Or maybe I do.

Even if I loathe Xavier Arrendell, I’m feeling good about the final sketches and samples.

We’ve exchanged several terse emails ironing out the details since the last disaster of a meeting.

While he’s been a little particular like the stuck-up jackwagon he is, I feel like I’ve captured the pulse of what he’s going for.

Hopefully enough for him to sign off on it and start paying.

We’re one signature away from the deposit check and speedrunning our options for Grandpa’s care.

I already have a few good medical centers in Raleigh bookmarked on my phone.

The cognitive treatment will be a long-term thing and might even require visits to specialists out of state, but we can at least get him in for surgery to restore his hands. He’ll be stubborn about missing out on work for recovery time, sure, but hey.

It’s better than losing what he loves.

When I arrive at the Arrendell house, the day feels darker.

I still find a smile for Joseph Peters when he answers the door, swinging one of the big double doors open for me and offering me a polite, almost wary smile.

“Miss Grey,” he says smoothly. His eyes are guarded. “My apologies, however, Mr. Arrendell was pulled into a snap meeting. I’ll be happy to let you into his office to wait. He shouldn’t be long.”

I feel like my ears go up.

Alone in Xavier’s office? Plus, a few minutes to feel Joseph out?

How did I get so lucky?

“That would be great, thanks!” I step into the house, turning to watch him as he shuts the door behind me. I even manage not to stammer.

I might be getting better at this whole spy thing.

“How have you been, Mr. Peters? Is everything okay?”

His brows knit together as he smooths his white gloves, then turns to lead me into the familiar red-carpeted hall to Xavier’s office.

“Certainly, miss. All is well.”

Is it?

“I’m not trying to pry,” I say quickly, lurching forward to walk next to him. “I just feel a little like I upset you when I asked about Cora Lafayette. You’re obviously still grieving and that’s okay. It must be hard working in the house where she died.”

Where this rotten family killed her, I want to say, but I don’t dare.

There’s a subtle stiffness to Joseph’s posture as he glances at me, folding his hands behind his back.

“I appreciate your concern, Miss Grey,” he says neutrally. “Fortunately, I am managing as well as I can.”

Dang.

He’s a tough nut to crack.

I guess he’d have to be, working here.

---