Page 150 of I Think They Love You

“Denzel.” Kami snaps her fingers. His head jerks in her direction. “I’m tired. I need to get my son home. We can dowhatever this islater, okay?”

You mean the whole officially meeting your secret boyfriend who’s clearly spent time with my nephew and is actually kind of cute, in a dorky way, thing?Denz considers suggesting. The warning in her eyes stops him.

“Fine,” he relents.

“Thank you.” She sighs. “Text me when you get home.”

Before Kami’s too far, Denz blurts, “Congratulations.”

She pauses. Denz registers the surprise in her eyes before she blinks it away. She smiles, grateful.

Suraj curls an arm around Kami’s waist. Her head tucks into his chest. The three of them make a casual, if not quick, exit toward the elevators, leaving Denz with one thought:

His sister, newly crowned CEO of 24 Carter Gold, stubborn workaholic, is in full-on Sandra Bullock–rom-com love.

Another thought:

He’s gonna drag her so hard for those tragic nicknames.

When the glowing embers of the party finally snuff out, all the guests climbing into their sleek black SUVs and limos and luxury cars, Denz shrugs off his suit jacket. He rolls up his sleeves. Pockets his phone. He marches over to where the staff is methodically disassembling things. Denz waves off anyone saying “No, sir, we’ve got it” to dig in and do his part.

“Rule number one,” Kenneth told him after his first event with the company, “never make anyone feel like they’re beneath you. Thank them. Help them. Be supportive. Then look everyone in the eye and thank them again.”

And so, Denz does.

He hasn’t seen his dad since the announcement. The aunties and uncles are gone too. It’s just him and the Atlas staff.

At least, for the first ten minutes.

He’s walking backward, carrying a box of clean wineglasses, when he collides with someone. A hand catches his elbow, steadying him before he topples over.

“I’m pretty sure,” Eric says, grinning, “if you drop these, your dad will unretire just to fire you.”

Denz guffaws, then remembers Julie. “Shouldn’t you be at home?” It’s close to 1:00A.M.,a nice chill descending on the rooftop.

Eric rubs the back of his neck, bashful. “Ever since she hit her second trimester, my wife says I’ve been a little… clingy?”

“Annoying?”

“Suffocating,” Eric confirms, righting the box in his arms.

That’s when Denz notices the others. Connor, yawning as he helps gather used glasses. Kim, who’s changed from her pleated minidress into casualwear and sneakers, folding linen in a corner. The occasional intern wiping down surfaces, detangling lights.

“You don’t mind a little help, right?” Eric picks up a box. “We’ve got your back, bos—I mean, Denz.”

Denz shoulder-checks him, smiling. “Thanks, E.”

While they work, he doesn’t think about losing. What’s happening between Kami and Suraj or Kami and him. He doesn’t think about Braylon either.

Not much.

Denz watches the party they—he—worked so hard on vanish like Cinderella’s dreams at midnight.

Somewhere after 2:00A.M., the rooftop’s clean and organized. Denz tells the staff to go home. He hugs Connor and Kim goodbye, calls a rideshare for a sleep-deprived Eric.

When Denz steps off the elevator, his breath catches. For hours, it feels as if he’s been dragging an anvil everywhere. But the moment he sees them, his strength crumbles.

Waiting in the lobby are Nic, Jordan, Jamie, and his mom.

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