Page 64 of Trouble from Abroad
I’m not against the switch. As long as I can keep punching something, I don’t really care if it’s human or bolted to the ceiling.
Mia steps in before I have my way with the bag. She covers my fingers with hers as I reach for the bottle she brought. She mouths, “Breathe,” and I let it out. She winks, and my grip eases. “And behave,” she whispers, right before she turns and slips out.
That’s the first time my shoulders drop since I left her bedroom this morning.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
preston
Showered.Calmer. Wearing clothes that don’t require caution tape, I step into the living room and find Mia seated on the couch beside the designer. They’re surrounded by swatches, sketches, and enough architectural renderings to renovate the Colosseum.
“Dr. Jett, I’m Zaha, nice to officially meet you.” We shake hands, and I sit across from her, while Mia stays quiet, observing and idly fiddling with the corner of a fabric swatch.
“Apologies for earlier. I was in one of my moods. Frustrating morning.”
“Not to worry. I cleared my day. Callie and Mia made it clear that you should be my top priority. I’ve brought three concepts I’d love your feedback on.” Apparently,everyonemeans business today, and the clock is running. “Tell me what you like, what you don’t, and we’ll take it from there.”
She flips through the options. Wood. Metal. Bold tones. Warm and sun-drenched neutrals. Light fixturesso elaborate they might levitate. Too much to choose from.Too much, period.
“The brief the ladies gave me was to start fresh. Wipe the slate clean.”
I catch Mia leaning back on the couch, about to crawl her way up and out of there.
“You want the room to feel… new, right? More you, less history,” Zaha offers nonchalantly, a hand flicking in the air.
Mia’s mouth drops open and shut a few times before words find her. “I—I didn’t… I swear. It’s your room, you decide what?—”
Zaha swoops in to save her while I watch her squirm. “I misspoke.” She places a gentle hand on Mia’s knee, though it does nothing to settle her. “That’s correct. Mia briefed me on the layout and dimensions.” She turns to me. “Callie called last night to… well, let’s just say I can’t quote her directly, but she filled me in on your life’s latest developments. She also made it clear that if I didn’t clear space for this project, I wouldn’t live to regret it.”
My best friend issued her a death threat, and she’s laughing about it. What an odd woman. “I’m here to give you a fresh start at home. This is my favorite kind of project, so let’s get going.”
“Well, minus the homicide promise, that’s… pretty accurate.” I rub the back of my neck. “To be fair, she probably saved us both some time. If you’ve worked with Callie before, you know her brand of crazy comes gift-wrapped with good intentions.”
“Absolutely,” Zaha says with flair. “You’ve got good people inyour corner.”
“I do.”
My eyes find Mia before I can stop them.
The kind of good you don't see coming—until it's already saving you.
Zaha hands over the three-room concepts, and right off the bat, I’m floored. The first one’s stunning. Earthy tones. Forest wallpaper. Heavy curtains. Solid wood pieces. I like it.
“What do you think?” I ask Mia.
She hesitates. “This is about you.”
“I didn’t ask what it’s about,” I say softly. “I asked what you think.”
Her gaze lifts to mine, then drops to the papers. “I love the tone. It feels alive. Not too formal. Not boring either.”
I nod and turn to Zaha, handing the papers back. “The green, then.”
There’s a pause as she taps something on her tablet. Mia keeps her hands folded in her lap until we both reach for the same brushed brass sample.
Our fingers touch. Her breath hitches. Mine catches.
We don’t say a word. But something shifts.
