Page 112 of Dial F for Finance

The security upgrade is secured.

“The director is ready for us back in the conference room,” Dominic announces quietly as he approaches our small circle.

At the words conference room, Dustin’s shoulders instantly hike up to his ears. He sets the half-empty hot chocolate cup on the wooden bench, his hands retreating to his lap where they knot together in a white-knuckled grip. Next to him, Hannah’s face tightens into a rigid mask of expected disappointment.

My heart aches for them. Bringing them back into that conference room right now serves absolutely no strategic purpose. The adults are going to litigate boundaries, schedules, and facility rules. Having Dustin and Hannah sit through another round of arguing will only trigger another emotional detonation.

“Actually,” I say, turning to face Dominic and Hannah’s mother. “If the discussion is primarily focused on the operational logistics of their care plans and the facility’s security upgrades, they don’t need to be in there for it.”

Hannah’s mother turns to me, her brow furrowing. “But⁠—”

“I’ll stay out here with them,” I state. It isn’t a suggestion. I shift my weight, my posture radiating absolute certainty. “It’s a beautiful afternoon. They’ve already clearly expressed their feelings on the matter, and quite frankly, having them sit through the administrative fallout won’t benefit anyone. Let them enjoy their hot chocolate. I’ll stay out here and keep them company.”

Dominic doesn’t say a word, but the look he gives me is so intensely, fundamentally appreciative that my pulse stutters. He knows exactly what I’m doing—I’m volunteering to be the human shield so his brother doesn’t have to hear himself discussed as a danger again.

Hannah’s mother looks at the two of them on the bench. Dustin is nervously bouncing his knee, looking at the ground.

“You don’t mind?” she asks, the fight completely drained from her voice.

“I prefer the fresh air,” I lie smoothly. “Go. Sort out the logistics. We’ll be right here when you’re done.”

Dominic steps aside to let Hannah’s mother back inside. Before he follows, he closes the short distance between us, his large hand cupping my elbow.

“You’re a lifesaver, Pemberton,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, sending a shiver straight down my spine.

“Just executing practical care, Cruz,” I whisper back, keeping my eyes forward. “Go close the deal.”

He squeezes my arm once, a heavy, claiming weight, before turning back to the building. As the heavy door clicks shut, I walk over to the bench and sit on the edge, leaving a respectable professional distance between us.

Dustin peeks out from under the brim of his Mets cap. “Are they gonna break us up in there, Jenny?”

“No, Dustin,” I say, and for once, I don’t calculate the odds before I speak. “Dominic is in there. Nobody is breaking you up.”

CHAPTER 30

Dominic

The sky’s dark by the time I carry our weekender bags through the front door of my Sutton Place apartment. I drop them by the console and hit the master switch. The blinds glide upward, revealing the East River and the Queensboro Bridge lit against the Manhattan darkness.

It’s a hell of a view. I’ve spent many an hour just standing here on nights when business kept me in New York, but right now, I want food. I want bed. And I want my wife—I don’t care in what order.

By the time we left Round Hill, the extra security had been approved, Hannah’s parents had agreed she could stay, and Dustin had given Jenna a comprehensive tour of his room, the game room, the garden, and every vending machine he considers financially indebted to him. My parents are breathing again. Dustin and Hannah are ecstatic.

Normally, I handle a family crisis alone. Fix the thing, write the check, charm the room, then pour scotch over whatever part of me got scraped raw.

This time, I had Jenna.

We split the problem without discussing it. She stayed with Dustin and Hannah outside after the meeting got ugly. I stayed in the room and closed the deal. For the first time in my life, the whole thing didn’t sit on my shoulders alone. And I don’t know exactly what she said to Hannah’s mom outside, but when Hannah’s mom came back into the room, it was like we were dealing with a whole different person. She went from being certain moving Hannah to another facility was the only way, to discussing ways we can support them so they never feel the need to sneak away together again.

I’ve known it for years, but I’ll say it again—my wife is amazing.

Jenna steps out of her heels with a quiet sigh, leaving them neatly aligned by the console table. She rolls her shoulders, her tailored blazer looking a little worse for wear after forty-eight hours of high-stakes diplomacy.

“I should probably draft a follow-up email to the facility director,” Jenna murmurs, pulling her phone from her pocket. “Just to ensure the auxiliary monitor clause is implemented before Monday. There were at least three procedural loopholes in her counter-proposal.”

“Absolutely not.” I close the distance between us, plucking the device directly out of her hand and tossing it onto the table. Before she can deploy her corporate reprimand voice, I wrap my arms around her waist and haul her flush against my chest. “No debriefing. No emails. We won. My brother’s relationship has been saved, and you are officially the Cruz family’s favorite crisis weapon.”

She stiffens out of habit, then melts against me with a reluctant groan. “I don’t like leaving loose ends, Dominic.”