Page 73 of Taking Denver

I leave the office before he can answer, eager to avoid whatever doomsday news he has, and almost slam into Martha.

“Your guests are making a mess!”

I tut. “It’s a party. Cheer up.”

“I can party without the mess!” she cries, then huffs. “Happy birthday, witch.”

“Thanks, hag.”

Martha pats my head, then points in my face. “No more mess.” She storms off.

I make a note to make more of a mess, then set off for the foyer again, and once I reach it, the lights go out. Everyone starts singing, and Wyatt is holding my cake.

God, I love my birthday. It’s always the best month of the year, but I miss my dad. I wish he could be here with me to sing and open presents.

“Make a wish, Deluxe,” Wyatt says, the candlelight flickering across his face, green eyes bright and happy.

I smile wide, close my eyes, and blow out the candles. Everyone cheers. I grin, but it quickly fades when I spot Ranger in the crowd. The shadows around him seem to pulse, his eyes pitch black as he stares at me, but it isn’t anger, frustration, or impatience in his expression.

It’s concern.

“Want a slice?” Wyatt asks.

I tear my eyes away from Ranger. “Yes! Did Axel talk to you about marshmallows?”

Wyatt rolls his eyes. “Yes, I’ll head out after this. What time is it?”

“Um…” I crane my neck to catch a glance at the clock. “Nine thirty.”

“Okay, give me five minutes.”

Wyatt kisses me and disappears toward the kitchen. I’m pulled away to accept more gifts and bid people goodbye, and when I check the time again, it’s past ten, and the house is empty. The party planner will be back in the morning to clean up the mess, and the leftover food has been wrapped and packed away.

I stand in the silence, my ears ringing from the sudden quiet. Footsteps echo through to me, and I spot Axel sneaking past the kitchen with car keys in his hand.

I follow him and skid in front of the door.

“No!” I say. “Give them to me. I thought Wyatt was going for you?”

“I can’t find him!”

I sigh. “Then maybe he’s already gone. Go get some cake.”

Axel groans and gives me the keys before wandering into the kitchen.

“Denver?” Cal appears from the hall. “Ranger needs to see you downstairs.”

I wrinkle my nose. Downstairs is the basement that’s recently been converted into offices. It’s the last place I want to go, even on the best of days. I’ve avoided it since I discovered that it’s soundproof.

“I’ll come with you,” Cal says reassuringly.

“Okay, but you can’t hold my hand,” I say. “I’m a married woman.”

Cal smiles, and together, we venture to the back of the house and downstairs. The basement is a fully functioning office, but so far, none of Ranger’s employees have used it, and I’m glad. There are no windows. No natural light. No plants, no art. I hate the stone flooring; it makes the room feel damp even when it isn’t. I can’t imagine subjecting anyone to eight hours a day down here.

Ranger is leaning against one of the desks, his phone in his hand, staring at the floor.

“What is so important?” I ask. “I still haven’t had cake. Have you seen Wyatt?”

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