Cecilia's pov
I watched Tang carry Yvonne down the stairs, her silk robe trailing behind her like she was a fairy-tale princess being rescued.
She kept "accidentally" brushing her fingers against his shoulder.
I definitely noticed.
The east sitting room didn't look anything like it did last winter.The minimalist white couches from her holiday party were gone.
Now it looked like a private boutique: full-length mirrors, a curtained-off changing area, and mannequins modeling evening gowns straight off a runway.
I sank into the velvet sofa while Tang gently placed Yvonne next to me.
Mission complete, he claimed a corner chair, popped in his earbuds, and vanished into whatever game had his attention today.
Ever the professional. Always present, never in the way.
Yvo
