“Not this time. We’re going to talk mostly business rather than public relations. Take some time for yourself.”
“Actually, I would welcome the chance to talk to Naomi.”
“That would be helpful since maybe then Royce can be convinced to leave her side.”
“We make quite a team.”
He winked. “That we do.”
A dark-haired stable hand approached, grabbing both Willow’s and Abacus’s reins. The horses lazily walked behind him toward the barn. Trystan nodded his head, gesturing to the barn office where they’d left Paige.
The yellow Lab greeted them with a rapidly wagging tail and she happily trailed behind Trystan and Isabeau as they made their way toward the house.
Trystan squeezed her hand, igniting butterflies in her stomach. She pressed the button on the elevator that would lead to Naomi’s suite. When the elevator arrived, she felt reluctant to let his fingers go.
He flashed a deep smile at her as he dropped her hand, striding toward the study where the families were gathering.
She stepped into the elevator and pressed the floor for Naomi’s suite, along with the button for a doorbell announcing her arrival. Isabeau fidgeted with her hair, holding on to the feeling of his fingers twined with hers and the lingering sensation of Trystan’s kiss. Her stomach dropped as the elevator lifted.
The door dinged open, and she stepped out into a room bathed in natural light. The high ceilings and eclectic artwork suited Naomi’s free-spirited personality.
Her eyes stopped on Royce who hunched over his computer at the small table. Earbuds in and zoned out. Keys clicked in rapid succession, and she noticed the way his brow furrowed.
Naomi stretched on the light, airy sofa, chewing unenthusiastically on a celery stick.
Isabeau waved tentatively. “I hope you don’t mind some company.”
Naomi set aside her celery stick. “Oh Lord, thank goodness. I’m not even a day into bed rest and I’m going stir-crazy. So is poor Tessie.”
Isabeau released Paige from her leash and gave the command, freeing her from work to enjoy herself. “Free play.”
Tessie and Paige bounded over to greet each other like old friends.
Royce pulled his earbuds out. “Hello, thanks for coming up.”
Isabeau said, “Trystan said to let you know they’re having a meeting downstairs.”
Royce closed his laptop. “Who is meeting?”
“Most of the Steeles and Mikkelsons, other than the honeymooners.”
His shoulders heaved. “On my way.” He skimmed a kiss along Naomi’s forehead. “Take care of yourself.” He opened the balcony door for the dogs to slip outside, then strode toward the small foyer.
Isabeau waited until Royce entered the elevator, doors closing him from view. She turned to Naomi. “Can I get you anything?”
“I’m fine. Royce has kept me well stocked with healthy snacks and fruit water. Would you like something?” She gestured to the coffee table that resembled a buffet with a veggie tray, pitcher of water and glasses. “Help yourself.”
“Thank you.” Isabeau poured a glass of sparkling fruit water for herself and sat in a recliner. “Are you okay? I don’t mean to pry, you just have a worried expression on your face.”
Naomi bit her bottom lip, releasing it slowly before blurting out, “I didn’t want to upset Royce any more than he already is. But this experience has called back some upsetting times.” She blinked back tears. “I’m a twin and my sister died in a plane crash when we were barely entering our teen years. This bed rest situation has made me think about her, like, all the time. If I sleep, I dream about her—Brea.”
Isabeau didn’t have siblings, but she’d loved her mother. Her mom—Loretta—had often worked two jobs, so time together was all the more precious. Sometimes her mother would even wake her up when she finished the late shift so they could talk. Loretta had never tired of telling bedtime stories, some of them fairy tales and some of them real-life histories. Such as the story of a famous Queen Isabeau, a strong woman with an elegant name.
Even now, there were times Isabeau dreamed her mother stood at the foot of her bed. Waking up to find her gone was devastating. Every time.
“I’m sorry.” She touched Naomi’s arm, squeezing lightly. “That must be difficult for you having all those feelings churning.”
“It is.” She rubbed her stomach absently. “She was taken from us so tragically.”
Isabeau resisted the urge to touch her own stomach. Her period was a day late, which wasn’t unusual, but still... She forced her attention back to the conversation. “Accidents can leave us with so little closure.”
Her mother’s death of COPD had given them time for farewells, but when her father died in a motorcycle wreck five years ago, there’d been no chance to figure out if the relationship could be repaired.
Naomi glanced out the window, lips pursed as she seemed to grow thoughtful. “At the time, there were rumors that it wasn’t an accident at all.”
“What do you mean?”
“The police could never prove anything, but there were unanswered questions and this pervasive sense that someone in the Mikkelson family had something to do with the accident.”
Horrified and more than a little defensive on Trystan’s behalf, Isabeau sat up straighter. “Oh my God, that’s...unthinkable.”
“Our families already disliked each other and some felt there wasn’t room for both businesses in the industry.”
“But to cause a plane crash?” She couldn’t fathom such a thing.
“To keep from going insane with grief, I had to accept that I’ll never know the truth.” Yet, the pain of that decision still showed in her brown eyes. “And if someone tied to the Mikkelson business did it, they couldn’t have meant for the outcome to be that horrific—maybe they intended a runway incident, fear, distraction in the family. I know, it sounds crazy but that was such a chaotic time.”
“I can’t envision your father letting go of the investigation.” Jack Steele was a formidable force, even now recovering from the horseback-riding accident that had broken his spine.
The fact that he wasn’t paralyzed? A miracle.
“Dad was devastated over Brea and my mother both dying. We hadn’t realized how much he depended on
