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“I know he’s a lot to deal with,” Emzee went on. “He comes off all controlling and stubborn and impatient.” She was thoughtful for a moment. “He wasn’t always like this, though.”

“You mean before your mom passed?” I asked. I tried to imagine Stefan as a sweet, playful little boy, before his world had been shattered by tragedy. A tragedy I understood well.

“Maybe. But I mean, he wasn’t even this hard back in high school,” she said. “When we were teenagers he’d drive me around with my friends and take me to the movies. He was one of my best friends, weird as that sounds now. Did he tell you he brought me to his senior prom?”

My jaw dropped. “No.Stefandid?”

“Yup. It was the best night of my high school life. Before that, I was the biggest nerd of the freshman class. But he treated me like I was the coolest girl in the room, and after that, so did everybody else.”

“That’s a great story,” I said, my heart swelling. “I can’t believe he did that.”

“Yeah, that was him. And then right before he went to college…something changed.”

“What happened?” I asked, taking another sip of my mojito.

“I don’t know. He got cold. Maybe he was just preparing himself for the real world.”

Emzee’s words trailed off as she looked out the window. I imagined she was thinking of the way Stefan used to be. Missing that younger, happier version of her brother.

As we hugged goodbye outside the restaurant, I wondered about Stefan’s secrets, wondered what kind of trauma or tragedy might have changed him into the man he was today.

Wondered if there was such a thing as a miracle that could change him back.

Tori

Chapter 15

When the valet pulled up with Emzee’s cute black convertible, she turned to me.

“You want a ride back over to campus?” she asked.

She was struggling to keep her hat on her head as a gust of wind came up, her arms loaded down with bags, so I took her purse and the leftovers so she could duck into the car.

“Actually,” I said, passing the bags back through the window, “I still have some time before my ASL class. I think I’ll get Stefan something to eat and bring it over to him.”

“Brilliant!” Emzee squealed. “Their food is so good, isn’t it? He’ll love that. My brother the workaholic, always laboring right through his lunch hour. Maybe I’ll see you at the office?”

“Sure. Either way, let’s hang out again soon,” I said.

“Love it.” With an air kiss, she rolled up the window and sped off.

But the excitement I felt at surprising my husband was quickly dampened when I remembered that I wasn’t supposed to go to the office without an explicit invitation. The last time I tried to bring Stefan lunch unannounced, it hadn’t gone well.

Then again, my husband’s rules about not showing up at KZM had probably been due to their behind-the-scenes activities—not whether I was allowed to visit. There was no way I’d get in trouble now that I knew the full scope of what was really going on at the agency.

Still, I was nervous regardless as I sat in the back of an Uber on my way over. What if he didn’t want me at the office for other reasons? Maybe he was having an affair at work, or he engaged in “private interviews” with the models. I clutched the bag of take-out food, anxious.

“Thank you so much,” I told the driver, sliding out of the car in front of the building.

I looked up at the huge skyscraper of glass and brick, taking a deep breath. The last time I’d been here, I had gotten turned around and accidentally overheard Konstantin Zoric yelling at Luka. The owner of KZM had admonished his youngest son for basically screwing “the help.” That was when I’d first realized that the agency’s talent were working as more than just models. It had shattered my entire world.

But Stefan was still Konstantin’s favorite. If my husband was really the perfect son he was supposed to be, he’d know his father’s rules. There was no way he’d be messing around with other women at work, in full view of everyone. Nothing went on at KZM that Konstantin didn’t know about. I clung to that thought despite having no proof that it was valid. I had to believe that Stefan wasn’t cheating.

The security guard at the front desk recognized me, and he waved me over to the bank of elevators without even making me sign in. When I got up to the 29thfloor, the receptionist was equally warm.

“Mrs. Zoric,” she said. “So good to see you again. He’s in his office. Go right ahead.”

It was almost too easy. My pulse was kicking as I tiptoed down the hall, turned the corner, and made my way to Stefan’s office door.