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Gah, when was the last time I allowed myself a long bubble bath with a good book, a glass of wine, and candles.

Note to self, make that happen soon.

I carried my little caddy of cleaning supplies into the kitchen. I emptied every cabinet, wiped down every shelf, and reorganized my spices, tossing out the old ones. I cleaned the inside of the refrigerator, cringing at the dates on some of the condiments. The living room got vacuumed. I dusted surfaces I hadn’t touched in months. I fluffed pillows and straightened picture frames and reorganized my bookshelf.

By the time I made it to my bedroom, sweat had soaked through my shirt. I stripped the bed and put on fresh sheets. Another splurge. There was something to be said for high-thread count. I stood back and studied my bedroom. The candles I was addicted to covered my dresser and nightstand. Everyone looked damn good in candlelight.

If a certain cocky lawyer decided to come visit, I didn’t want him to see my mess. I wanted him to see romance. Softness.

“Oh no,” I murmured, dropping my head.

Was that what this was about? Was I cleaning my house because I hoped Beau would show up?

God, I was pathetic.

I should just reply. Something casual.

But I didn’t. I decided to take that bath and go to bed early. The coming week would be busy. I needed to be rested.

Monday morning I woke up ready to tackle the world. The long bath after a very busy night had been exactly what I needed. By the time I walked through the doors of Corwin Gems, I had put on the professional persona I wore every day to work. Gone was the fiery woman that had allowed Beau Blackwell to curl her toes.

The ice queen was reporting for duty.

The morning passed in a blur of emails and meetings. I reviewed the preliminary reports from the masquerade ball. The attendance numbers were impressive. The press coverage and social media engagement were good. Better than good, actually. The event had been a resounding success by every measurable metric.

Maya from marketing stopped me in the hallway outside my office.

“Ms. Corwin, I’m sorry to bother you, but I just had to say that dress at the masquerade ball?” She pressed a hand to her chest. “I saw the photos online and I literally showed everyone in the department. You looked incredible.”

I blinked. Compliments about my appearance were not something I’d ever quite figured out how to receive gracefully. “Thank you.”

“The color. The mask. It was so different from what you usually wear to these things.” She seemed to realize she’d just implied my usual choices were boring and her eyes went wide. “Not that you don’t always look amazing. I just meant⁠—”

“I know what you meant.” I smiled. “Different was the point.”

She exhaled. “Well, it worked. Everyone’s talking about it.”

“Good,” I said. “That’s very good.”

I walked back into my office feeling something I didn’t get nearly enough of.

Seen.

At two o’clock, my assistant reminded me about the board meeting. Right. The quarterly review. The one where they’d assess my progress and determine whether I was still on track to become CEO. If they stuck to the results, there was nothing that would give them pause.

But I knew the finicky fuckers and my little press conference flub would still be on their minds.

I gathered my materials and headed to the conference room. The board members were already assembled when I arrived. Six faces around the table polished to the point of being a mirror. My father sat at the head. He nodded as I took my seat, his expression giving nothing away.

“Let’s begin,” he said.

The first twenty minutes covered the usual topics. Sales figures, market analysis, upcoming product launches, and all the stuff I knew was important, but it wasn’t what the meeting was really about. We all knew it. I answered questions and provided updates without missing a beat. This was my comfort zone. Numbers and strategy and concrete plans. Things I could control.

Then the conversation shifted to the thing I knew was coming.

“The masquerade ball was quite successful,” one of the members said, shuffling through some papers. “Social media engagement was up forty percent compared to last year.”

“The coverage has been overwhelmingly positive,” Tom added. “I’ve seen several articles praising the event planning and the romantic if not slightly dark atmosphere. My wife loved it.”