Page 142 of Tessa and Nash

“So,” I say lightly, “tell me exactly how bad it was.”

He snorts. “Your uncle is utterly determined to destroy me.”

Heat flares in my chest. “I need to talk to him.”

Although I don’t know what I can do…

Nash’s jaw tightens. “Be careful.”

“I’ll handle it.”

He hesitates. “Text me.”

I nod.

We finish the snack in tense, public silence, then walk back out into the cold, hands still linked, the town watching us like a slow-burning fuse.

When I get home, I head straight down the hall toward Thomas’s office, spine straight, questions lined up as ammunition I refuse to fire recklessly.

I knock.

“What is it?” he asks. “I’m busy.”

“I have questions,” I say.

His gaze sharpens.

And this time, I don’t back down. I take a seat and stare at him.

“I need to know what’s going on with the McCoy deal… on your end.”

He shakes his head. “You’re the one who needs to report to me.”

A tremor tears down my spine, but I won’t back down.

“What’s happening with Juniper House?” I push. “Why does it seem so relevant to the McCoy plan?”

Thomas’s gaze hardens. “Because the McCoys are trying to build on land they never properly earned. Don’t forget what side you’re on here.”

There it is.

The line he always returns to.

I nod slowly like I’m considering it. I’m still his obedient niece, the administrator in training.

“What about agreements?” I ask casually, “that were never filed. Promises that were supposed to be made official later.”

His eyes flash.

“Where are you hearing this?”

“From Town Hall. From people who think the engagement means things are resolved.”

Thomas’s jaw tightens at the word engagement like it’s a stain. “You being engaged doesn’t mean I’m giving the McCoys anything. There won’t even be a damn wedding.”

“I know, I just want to know⁠—”

Thomas’s eyes go cold. “Careful.”