Chapter 4: The Cupcake Surprise

A week later.

On my way home from a Monet exhibit at SFMOMA, I swung by the office, picking up cupcakes from Sugar & Whisk, the overpriced bakery Nathan pretended not to love.

The receptionist grinned. "Mrs. Brooks! So lovely to see you!" I winked and told her I wanted to surprise Nathan.

On the executive floor, I knocked on his door. Nathan’s CEO voice cut through: "I said don’t disturb me."

I smiled. "Nathan, it’s me."

The electronic lock clicked open. I stepped into the dim office, sunlight slicing through the curtains.

Nathan sat behind his glass-and-chrome desk, smiling. "Em, what brings you here? Nice surprise."

I pouted. "Brought you cupcakes, but you were so scary just now!"

"Rest for ten minutes," he said to his computer, muting the mic. He rubbed his eyes, dark circles smudged underneath like bruises, and managed a tired smile.

"Tokyo call. Didn’t know it was you."

"Still in the meeting?"

"Yeah, but they’re just going over spreadsheets."

He flashed that boyish grin. "No matter how busy, there’s always time for cupcakes from my wife. Tokyo can wait."

I sat across from him, not daring to go near his webcam. "Since you’re working so hard, your wife will graciously feed you! Like you’re a Roman emperor."

I opened the box, letting the vanilla-butter aroma fill the room, and offered him a bite. He leaned forward and took the bite, frosting smearing the corner of his mouth.

Suddenly, his brow furrowed and he groaned, pinching his temple.

"What’s wrong?"

He took the cake, chewed slowly. "Just tired. Felt dizzy for a sec. Sixteen-hour days are catching up."

I eyed the shadows under his eyes. "I won’t stay. You need to rest tonight. Take something if you need to."

He looked apologetic. "Next time, tell me you’re coming. I’ll clear my schedule for lunch."

His voice was hoarse, like he was fighting off a cold.

As I left, I glanced back. Nathan was slumped in his chair, head tipped back, tie loosened, the fading sun brushing his chest.

But something felt off. I turned back, moving quietly. Just as I rounded the corner, I saw Nathan’s office door open. Someone slipped out, glancing up and down the hall, like she was dodging paparazzi.

It was Lauren Hayes. Same plain face, but her lipstick was smudged, ringed around her mouth like she’d been eating something—or doing something else.

I froze. Less than a minute had passed since I’d left. Fifty seconds at most.

When did Lauren go in? Could she have been there the whole time? Nathan’s desk was huge—custom made, big enough to hide a person underneath.