“I look amazing forme, mon Bête.” Mia bent down and kissed Wyatt. “Are you staying here while I’m gone?”
Wyatt’s brow pinched and he ran his fingers through his thick hair. “Um, I don’t know. Am I?”
“If you want to.” Mia shrugged with a smile. “But only if you cook dinner tonight.”
“Absolutely, I cannot take another fish and chips dinner,” Wyatt said with a devilish grin, and Mia guffawed, smacking his shoulder.
“Ingrate,” she accused, shaking her head in face of his rolling laughter. “Dinner better be good or you’ll never hear the end of it.”
Mia turned to leave but Wyatt clasped his palms at her waist, pulling her closer until she was bent over him, holding on to the backrest of his chair with mere inches between their faces.
Wyatt seemed to want to say something clever, but when their eyes locked, his gaze turned soft, almost forlorn.
“I’ll be here when you get back,” he promised.
“Good.” Mia cupped his jaw and stroked it with her thumb. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”
Wyatt flashed Mia a cheeky grin, she gave him a warning glare and pushed off the chair, hurrying away before he made a compelling case for her to stay.
As hasty as she tried to be, Mia still arrived a few minutes late to the tea room, finding Herbert already seated and waiting.
“I’m sorry,” she hurried to say when Herbert stood to greet her.
“You’re only three minutes late,” Herbert dismissed her apology with a chuckle and a quick peck on her cheek. “Unusual, but nothing to be sorry for.”
“How are you?” Mia asked as they took their respective seats. “We haven’t talked in what feels like forever.”
“Yes, well, I admit it was somewhat intentional on my part,” Herbert said, seeming somewhat abashed.
“I had a feeling.” Mia poured herself a cup of tea from the pot sitting in the middle of the table. Herbert was still an old-fashioned British gentleman with a soft spot for teatime.
“I wanted to give you time to adjust.” Mia nodded, sipping on her tea even though she wasn’t a fan of the beverage. Another side effect of her mother’s rigorous education was to adhere to the social standards of the immediate environment,when in Rome, as the saying went. “How are things at the hub?”
“Good,” Mia answered, smiling as she set her delicate porcelain cup down. “Very good, actually.”
Herbert’s mouth formed a self-satisfied grin that Mia found amusing, if somewhat baffling.
“Verygood, eh?” Herbert chuckled. “You two did seem to get along fantastically at the banquet.”
Oh, so that’s what this is about.
Mia lifted the tea back to her lips, delaying her reaction as she thought of the best way to deflect Herbert.
“We were presenting a unified front for the benefit of the hub,” Mia finally said, figuring that staying as close to the truth as possible would be easiest. “You’re the one who told me to learn how to play the game, were you not?”
“Yes.” Herbert had the decency to seem abashed. “I was. But I was hoping it was more than appearances, that you and Doctor Jenkins presenting a unified front was more than just an act.”
“It was,” Mia assured him. “Wyatt seems truly dedicated to the hub and to treating me as a peer, not a subordinate, and I’ve come to realize that working with him will benefit the hub, which is the ultimate goal.”
“I’m so glad to hear that,” Herbert beamed at her. “I knew he’d be a perfect fit when I offered him the position.”
A smile started forming on Mia’s lips before she grasped the full meaning of Herbert’s words. Her grip on the delicate cup tightened, and she stared at the golden-brown liquid inside. It was rippling against the white porcelain, and Mia realized her hands were shaking.
Taking a deep breath, she looked up at Herbert, who was happily munching on a scone.
“May I ask what you mean by that?” Her voice was surprisingly level, enough for Herbert to remain oblivious as to how close to the edge she was.
“By what?”