The CV
Aria
He actually remembered.
That was the thing that got me when I came downstairs Thursday morning to find the study door open, the desk cleared of everything except my laptop and a fresh coffee waiting beside it, and Caden sitting in the chair across from where I usually sat like he’d been there a while.
He’d made a note to himself about my CV.
Four weeks ago I’d mentioned it once, in passing, the morning after I arrived — something about getting a job, building a life, the things I’d come back here planning to do before my life caught fire. I’d mentioned it and then it had disappeared under everything else, and he’d kept it somewhere, quietly, and had set up the study and made coffee and waited.
That was Caden.
That was the part of him that had nothing to do with boardroom
