---
When I sat back down, Natasha was in a wonderful mood. She glanced at me sideways. "Elliot, if I come on as a partner, does that make me half-owner? Should Vivian be worried?"
"You'd be half-investor," Elliot said, carefully.
I'd had enough. I looked at Natasha steadily.
"That's a significant sum for one person to commit. Can you actually cover it on your own?"
She met my eyes, unbothered. "Easily. When I want something, my family backs me."
Elliot tugged my arm. "Vivian."
"I just want to make sure she's not overextending herself." I smiled apologetically at him, then reached into my pocket and felt the slim edge of the card. I set it on the table without hesitation.
Elliot blinked and read the name. "Dominic Kingsley?"
Natasha's face went white.
The woman who'd been needling me all evening — the composure, the arch little smiles — all of it collapsed at once. She stared at the card as if it had bitten her.
I watched her very calmly.
That's what I thought.
Then her phone rang.
An alert tone — sharp and urgent — that made all of us flinch. Natasha grabbed it. She was on her feet before the second ring, expression strange and tight.
"That's my — that's my father. I have to take this." She practically sprinted to the guest bathroom and shut the door behind her.
I let myself smile.
So Dominic had finally found a free moment.
Elliot looked at me. "What are you smiling about?"
"She's in her twenties and still that scared of a phone call from home. You don't find that funny?"
"No." He picked up the business card and studied it. "How do you know Dominic Kingsley?"
"I don't. A friend of mine knows his assistant."
I reached for the card. He moved it out of reach and tucked it into his jacket.
"I'll hold onto it."
Natasha came out less than a minute later. She looked awful. She made her excuses — she had to go, she was sorry — and refused Elliot's offer to drive her, practically bolting for the door.
Elliot closed it behind her, puzzled. "What got into her?"
"Strict family." I had no interest in analyzing it. I turned to go.
Then his arms came around me from behind. He rested his chin on my shoulder, voice dropping very low.
"Hey."
I closed my eyes. I breathed. Then I peeled his hands away, turned around, and looked at him.
"Didn't you say you were sleeping in the study?"
Something crossed his face. His mouth opened, and nothing came out.
"Good night, then."
I walked into the bedroom alone.