Grace
After we finished High Tea with Cecil, Charles took her to the bathroom to clean the icing from her hands. I heard her squeal.
“Are these for me? Thank you, Uncle Charles!”
Eason let out a low whistle as we made it to my office. “He’s really stepping into the Daddy shoes, isn’t he?”
I flushed, and he grinned. “For just Cecil or…”
“Shut up, Eason,” I nudged him, and he laughed. He sank into a chair across from me and pulled out his laptop.
The scent of coffee filled the air as Charles entered, carrying a tray in one hand and a laptop tucked under his arm. The aroma wafted through the air as we gathered and settled into the plush armchairs, creating a mini boardroom of sorts amid the bookshelves and framed photographs.
“What’s Cecil up to?” Eason asked.
Charles grinned. “
