Grayson pushed back from the table and stood. The chair legs scraped softly against the floor, the sound cutting through the tension that had settled between them. He stepped closer to Betty, resting a steady hand at the small of her back, protective without being possessive, warm even through the layers of her coat.
He turned slightly, angling them toward the woman standing a few feet away.
“Alexia,” he said, voice calm and even, “this is Betty. And Betty—this is Alexia.”
Alexia’s mouth thinned almost imperceptibly before she arranged her features into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She stepped forward and extended her hand. Her grip was firm, cool.
“Nice to meet you,” Alexia said.
Betty met her smile with one of her own, polite and gentle. There was no challenge in it, no
