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“And you’ve certainly done that. Your work speaks for itself.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

She glanced at her tablet. When she looked at me, I felt it. I didn’t know how I knew it, but shit was about to get real. When I looked at Lucy, she made the settle-down gesture. She knew me well enough to see the sudden uneasiness.

“Speaking of family, in recent years, many of your brothers have gotten married and had children,” the interviewer said. “There seems to be quite the baby boom in the Blackwell clan.” She leaned forward slightly. “Do you think you’ll ever settle down and start a family of your own?”

I decided to lean into the model thing. Play the part everyone expected me to play.

“With my busy schedule flying all around the world, I can’t imagine ever settling down and having kids,” I said with an easy smile. “I’m in a different city every few weeks. Different country, different time zone. It’s not exactly conducive to domestic life. Right now, my focus is on my career. The family stuff can wait. I’m happy being the fun uncle.”

Marissa laughed, clearly satisfied with the answer. “Fair enough. There’s plenty of time for all that later.”

“Exactly,” I said with a wink.

The interview continued for another twenty minutes. More questions about the campaign, my favorite locations and designers. Standard stuff that I could handle on autopilot. When the cameras finally stopped rolling, I shook Marissa’s hand and thanked her for the interview. Lucy waited by the door.

“How’d I do?” I asked, falling into step beside her as we headed out.

“You did great. Very charming. Very on brand.”

“But?”

She glanced at me. “No but. You did exactly what you needed to do. No embarrassing clips will be circulated. Good job.”

There was something in her tone that I couldn’t quite place. Not disappointment, exactly. But it wasn’t exactly genuine praise.

“I was thinking we could grab lunch,” I said, steering us toward the hotel restaurant. “Celebrate surviving the interview. There’s supposed to be this incredible place nearby.”

“Sure. That sounds nice.”

Before long, we were seated at a table by the window with an amazing view of the snow-covered mountains.

Lucy told me to order for both of us. I went with the cheese fondue and some kind of meat dish that the waiter promised was a local specialty. Lucy asked for water instead of wine, which surprised me.

“You sure you don’t want something stronger?” I asked. “We’re celebrating.”

“Water’s fine. My stomach’s still a little off.”

“Still? I thought you were feeling better.”

“I am. Mostly. Just being careful. I don’t want to eat or drink anything that might upset the balance.”

I watched her stare out the window with her fingers tracing absent patterns on the tablecloth. There was a tension in her shoulders that hadn’t been there before. Or maybe it had been and I was just now noticing it.

The food arrived, and I dug in with enthusiasm. The fondue was incredible, but Lucy barely touched hers. She pushed pieces of bread around her plate, occasionally dipping one into the cheese but only nibbling at it.

“You’re not hungry?”

“Not much. Still recovering.”

“We can go,” I said. “We’ll get you in bed and no matter how much you beg, no sex. You need rest, you little minx.”

That got a small smile out of her. “Very funny. And that’s probably what it is. I probably should have taken it easier yesterday. I’ll adjust to the time zone and altitude just as we’re leaving.”

I wanted to believe her. I would have loved to accept the explanation and move on. But something felt off. Something had been off since we landed.

“Lucy, if something’s wrong, you can tell me. You know that, right?”