Safe With You

Cocktails, Chaos, and Conference Calls

~ Elle ~

When my phone starts ringing at 9:17 a.m., I assume it’s another supplier asking for extensions on deadlines.

Then I see the caller ID.

Alyssa Rose 💎

I freeze mid-sip of my iced latte.

“Oh no,” I whisper. “She’s back.”

Kelsi looks up from her sketchbook, already suspicious. “Who’s back?”

I hold up my phone like it’s a bomb about to detonate. “The boss. The queen. The woman who will somehow know about every questionable decision we made in her absence.”

Triston, without even glancing up from his laptop, mutters, “Answer it.”

“Absolutely not.”

Kelsi rolls her eyes, snatches the phone, and hits accept. “Oh, for God’s sake, Elle.” She puts it on speaker.

And then we hear her.

Alyssa’s voice fills the studio — clear, calm, and way too cheerful for 9 a.m. on a Tuesday.

“Good morning, my beautiful degenerates!”

Kelsi snorts. “You sound… relaxed. Like someone who hasn’t opened her inbox in a week.”

“That’s because I haven’t,” Alyssa replies smoothly. In the background, there’s the sound of splashing water and children laughing. “How are my favourite lunatics holding up?”

I glance at Triston. “Everything’s fine! Totally fine! Nothing’s on fire!”

He doesn’t even look up. “Yet.”

Alyssa laughs, low and melodic — that sound that makes you instantly forgive her for being terrifyingly brilliant.

“Oh, you say that like I didn’t install cameras in the offices last year.”

Kelsi’s jaw drops. “You didn’t.”

Greyson’s voice cuts faintly through the line, amused: “She absolutely did.”

I groan. “Of course she did.”

“Relax,” Alyssa chuckles. “I haven’t checked them. I trust you.”

“That’s a huge mistake,” Winston says from the doorway, sipping his tea. “We’ve been running AQ like a highly caffeinated daycare.”

Alyssa hums, definitely smirking. “Good. That’s how I like it.”

~ Kelsi ~

The video suddenly connects, and Alyssa’s face fills the screen.

She’s lounging under a white parasol, oversized sunglasses on, cocktail in hand. The sound of waves and laughter drifts behind her.

She looks glorious — golden skin, sun-kissed shoulders, hair loose and wavy.

Greyson’s in the background, shirtless, carrying Hope, who’s babbling happily while Poppy and Quinn race down a waterslide.

It’s disgustingly picturesque.

“You’re in Portugal,” I say flatly.

“Correct.” Alyssa takes a sip of her drink. “Somewhere between paradise and mild chaos. The resort has four waterparks, and I haven’t moved from this lounger in three days.”

Triston smirks. “You look happy.”

She lowers her sunglasses just enough to meet his gaze. “I am happy. For the first time in forever.”

That quiet sincerity tugs something in my chest — even Winston looks faintly moved.

Then Elle ruins it. “Sooooo, funny story. We might have accidentally launched a winter collection without you seeing the final draft.”

Alyssa tilts her head. “Accidentally?”

I jump in before she combusts. “We just… got inspired. Don’t worry, it’s all very you. Structured romance. Velvet. Lace. Trauma but make it couture.”

Alyssa bursts out laughing. “If that isn’t my personal aesthetic, I don’t know what is.”

Elle beams. “Wait until you see it. We even got the shoot booked for next week.”

“You two are angels,” Alyssa sighs. “Chaotic, caffeine-dependent angels, but still angels.”

~ Elle ~

Then I hear him.

Greyson.

“Love, are you working on holiday again?”

Alyssa flips the camera, and suddenly there he is — holding Hope, hair damp, skin tanned, wearing that easy grin that could probably end wars.

I elbow Kelsi in the ribs. “God, look at them. Disgusting.”

“I hate how photogenic they are,” she mutters.

Behind them, Lillian waves from a sun lounger. “Hi from the fun aunt!”

“She’s gone,” Winston murmurs. “No saving her.”

Hope squeals and tries to grab the phone. Alyssa laughs. “Say hi, baby.”

We all wave like idiots.

“God,” I groan, “you look too relaxed. It’s making me uncomfortable.”

“That’s the goal,” Alyssa says.

~ Greyson ~

I take the phone from her, angling it toward myself.

“She’s pretending she’s not working,” I tell them, mock-serious. “But I caught her sketching resort uniforms on a napkin this morning.”

“I was bored!” she protests.

“She’s incapable of switching off,” I continue. “But I’m trying.”

“Trying what?” Elle teases.

“To distract her.”

I hear Alyssa laugh — that head-tilting, contagious laugh that made me fall in love with her.

Triston mutters something about us being nauseating.

Kelsi elbows him. “Says the man with the world’s most suspicious neck bruise.”

He nearly chokes on his tea.

Alyssa immediately picks up on it. “Hold up. What bruise?”

Kelsi groans. “Nothing!”

“Oh no,” Elle says gleefully. “Something.”

Winston smirks. “They’ve been checking fabric samples again.”

I lose it — nearly drop the phone laughing. Alyssa claps a hand over her mouth, tears in her eyes.

“Oh, this is beautiful,” she gasps. “Do not let Bailey see his parents all loved up. He’ll be mad his two birthdays and two Christmases get merged into one!”

The entire studio howls.

~ Winston ~

I’m trying not to laugh, but I can’t help it.

“You know,” I tell her, “we actually got through this week without a single fire. No PR disasters. No lawsuits. Even payroll went out on time.”

Alyssa gasps dramatically. “You mean the apocalypse has begun?”

Kelsi, still red-faced, mutters, “Don’t jinx it.”

“You’ve done amazing,” Alyssa says warmly. “I might even take two weeks off next time.”

Elle fake-swoons. “Don’t tease us like that.”

Then Hope squeals, splashing me through the screen — well, technically Greyson’s shirt, but I can feel the chaos anyway.

“I’m under attack!” he shouts.

“From a six-month-old,” Alyssa says sweetly. “You’ll live.”

“Barely.”

~ Kelsi ~

“You two seem happy,” I say finally.

Alyssa smiles, soft and genuine. “We are. It’s been a long time coming.”

There’s something fragile in her tone — peace layered over the memory of everything she’s survived.

She glances at Greyson, helping Quinn with her armbands. “You know what’s funny? I thought coming here would make me restless. Like I’d need to be sketching, planning, doing. But I’m just… grateful.”

Elle rests her chin on her hand, smiling. “You deserve that.”

“Tell that to the stress rash that still shows up every time I open my inbox.”

We all laugh, but we know what she means. We’ve all seen her crawl back from hell.

~ Elle ~

Then Poppy’s voice cuts through the call. “Mummy! Daddy! Come on! The big slide!”

Greyson grins. “Duty calls.”

Alyssa waves at us. “All right, minions, keep AQ standing. Try not to let Triston and Kelsi start a family in the stockroom.”

Kelsi groans. “ALYSSA!”

I’m dying. “Oh, I’m never letting that go.”

The call ends in a burst of laughter and splashing water

.

~ Triston ~

For a minute after the screen goes black, no one says a word.

Then Elle says, “She’s definitely been drinking.”

Winston chuckles. “And she’s earned every drop.”

I lean back in my chair, a smile tugging at my mouth. Her laugh lingers in the room, softer than it’s been in years.

Kelsi nudges me. “She’s right, you know.”

“About what?”

“About us being loved up.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Oh, we’re back to that?”

She grins. “You started it.”

I shake my head, trying not to laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“I know,” she says sweetly, kissing my cheek before going back to her desk.

Elle pretends to gag. “Ugh. Get a room.”

“Already did,” Winston mutters.

The studio erupts in laughter again.

As the afternoon fades into gold, I glance around at our team — Elle sketching, Kelsi humming, Winston typing with that faint smile.

Alyssa might be miles away, lounging under some palm tree, but her heartbeat is still here — stitched into every design, every laugh, every spark of chaos.

And somehow… AQ feels stronger than ever.