The tension in the library was thick enough to cut with a knife. Mailah could feel Grayson's intense gaze studying her every reaction, cataloging each response as if he were solving a complex puzzle. Every word she spoke felt like a potential trap, every pause a possible giveaway. She was walking a tightrope between maintaining her cover and satisfying his growing curiosity about her recent "changes."
The weight of his scrutiny was almost suffocating, and she found herself gripping the book in her lap tighter than necessary.
Was Grayson questioning her, or just making an observation? His tone seemed more puzzled than accusatory.
Before she could respond, he leaned forward slightly, his intense blue eyes fixed on hers with an unsettling directness. "Tell me, Lailah," he said quietly, his voice carrying a weight she couldn't quite identify, "what's with the changes?"
"I suppose people can rediscover old passions," she said carefully.
"They can." He straightened up, but didn't move away. "Though it's interesting timing. The reading, the breakfast routine changes, even Mrs. Baker mentioned you've been asking different questions lately."
Her heart skipped a beat. "Different how?"
"About the household, the charities you support. As if you're..." he paused, seeming to search for the right words, "reacquainting yourself with your own life."
The observation hit too close to home, and she struggled to maintain her composure. "Maybe I just needed some time to refocus on what's important."
"Maybe." His eyes searched her face with that unsettling intensity. "You have been going through quite a transition period lately. All these little changes."
Before she could process that statement or formulate a response, her phone buzzed loudly from the side table where she'd left it. The sound shattered the tension like glass, and they both looked toward the device.
"Ah," Grayson said, his tone returning to that familiar amused detachment, "your assistant, I presume?"
Mailah reached for the phone with hands that she hoped weren't visibly shaking. Emma's name was indeed on the screen, and she felt a rush of relief mixed with panic. Finally, a response, but now she had to deal with it while Grayson was watching her every move.
"I should..." she gestured vaguely at the phone.
"By all means." He settled back into his chair, clearly intending to stay and observe. "Don't let me stop you."
Of course he wasn't going to leave. That would make things too easy.
She opened the message, acutely aware of Grayson's intense gaze on her face as she read:
"Mrs. Ashford, I'm so sorry for the delay in responding! I was in meetings all morning. Your schedule for the rest of the week: Tomorrow you have the Children's Hospital fundraising committee meeting at 10 AM, followed by lunch with the Hartwell Foundation board at 1 PM. Thursday is the gallery opening for the Morrison Contemporary Art exhibit (you're listed as a patron), and Friday you have the monthly meeting for the Women's Literacy Initiative. I've sent detailed information about each event to your email. Is everything alright? You seem... different in your message. Let me know if you need anything else. -Emma"
Mailah stared at the phone, her mind reeling. Children's hospital committees? Art gallery patronage? Women's literacy initiatives? Her sister had been involved in serious, meaningful charity work, not just the superficial social climbing she'd imagined.
"Well?" Grayson's voice cut through her thoughts. "What's the verdict on your mysterious schedule?"
She looked up to find him watching her with that same intense curiosity, and she realized she'd been staring at the phone in silence for far too long.
"Tomorrow I have a committee meeting," she said carefully, "for the Children's Hospital fundraising drive."
"Ah yes, your pet project." Something flickered across his expression—was it surprise? "I didn't think you were still involved with that."
Pet project? Another piece of information she didn't have. Why would he think she wasn't involved anymore?
"Why wouldn't I be?" she asked, hoping to draw out more information.
"Because you told me three months ago that you were stepping back from all your charity work to focus on..." he paused, his brow furrowing slightly, "what did you call it? 'Finding yourself'?"
Shit. Had Lailah been planning to quit her charity work? Had she been preparing to tell Grayson about her illness? Three months ago would have been around the time she'd contacted Mailah, right before they'd started spending time together.
"I changed my mind," Mailah said, then immediately wondered if that sounded believable.
"Did you?" He leaned forward, and she caught that intoxicating scent again. "That's quite a shift. Though I suppose it fits with all the other changes you've been making lately."
Other changes. Her blood chilled slightly. How many differences had he noticed?
"I wouldn't call them changes," she said carefully. "More like... getting back to who I really am."
"Who you really are." He repeated the word as if tasting it. "Yes, you do seem very interested in that lately. Though I have to say, your version of who you really are seems quite different from what it used to be."
Damn it. She was painting herself into corners left and right. Every lie required three more lies to cover it up, and Grayson was clearly too intelligent to be fooled by weak explanations.
Before she could analyze his tone further, he glanced at his watch. She noticed it was an expensive piece that probably cost more than her old car.
"People change," she said, and immediately regretted the defensive tone.
"They do." He stood up abruptly, and she tensed, wondering if he was going to continue his interrogation or finally leave her alone. Instead, he walked to one of the library windows, gazing out at the manicured gardens beyond. "The question is why."
The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken questions and dangerous implications. Mailah clutched her phone like a lifeline, Emma's message still open on the screen. She needed to respond, needed to maintain the illusion that she was the same person Emma had been working with for however long.
"I should let you get back to your reading," he said, walking away.
He started toward what she now realized must be a door leading to his private office, then paused at the threshold.
"Lailah?"
The way he said her sister's name made something clench in her chest. There was something almost fond in his tone, different from his usual measured detachment.
"Yes?"
"I have to say, whatever phase you're going through..." He turned back to look at her, and for a moment his expression was softer than she'd seen it before. "I'm finding it rather refreshing. It's been a long time since I've seen you seem so... present."
Present. There was that word again.
"Wear the blue dress tomorrow. The navy one with the pearls. It's always been my favorite."
And then he was gone, disappearing through the door and leaving her alone with her racing heart and a thousand new questions.
She stared at the space where he'd been standing, trying to process everything that had just happened. He'd noticed her changes—the reading, the questions to Mrs. Baker—but seemed to be interpreting them as some sort of personal growth phase rather than evidence of deception. He was incredibly perceptive, cataloging every difference with the sharp intelligence of someone who missed nothing.
But he wasn't suspicious. Not yet.
The realization was both relieving and terrifying. Grayson was clearly brilliant, observant, and analytical. Every interaction with him was like walking through a minefield where one wrong step could expose everything. She would have to be extraordinarily careful going forward, because if anyone was going to figure out her secret, it would be him.
The blue dress with the pearls. She'd have to find it in Lailah's extensive wardrobe. Would she even recognize it? Would it fit the same way it had fit her sister?
Mailah leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes, feeling overwhelmed by the complexity of the life she'd stepped into. Every interaction revealed new layers of deception she'd have to maintain, new relationships she'd have to navigate, new expectations she'd have to meet.
And at the center of it all was Grayson—brilliant, perceptive, dangerously attractive Grayson, who was watching her with the sharp eyes of someone who noticed everything but hadn't yet connected the dots.
The question was: how long could she keep this up before everything came crashing down?
For now, she was safe. He was intrigued rather than suspicious.
But Mailah had the distinct feeling that this grace period wouldn't last forever. Grayson was too smart, too observant, and too invested in the details of their shared life to remain in the dark indefinitely.
She just hoped she could figure out how to be Lailah before he figured out that she wasn't.
"I suppose people can rediscover old passions," she said carefully.
"They can." He straightened up, but didn't move away. "Though it's interesting timing. The reading, the breakfast routine changes, even Mrs. Baker mentioned you've been asking different questions lately."
Her heart skipped a beat. "Different how?"
"About the household, the charities you support. As if you're..." he paused, seeming to search for the right words, "reacquainting yourself with your own life."
The observation hit too close to home, and she struggled to maintain her composure. "Maybe I just needed some time to refocus on what's important."
"Maybe." His eyes searched her face with that unsettling intensity. "You have been going through quite a transition period lately. All these little changes."
Before she could process that statement or formulate a response, her phone buzzed loudly from the side table where she'd left it. The sound shattered the tension like glass, and they both looked toward the device.
"Ah," Grayson said, his tone returning to that familiar amused detachment, "your assistant, I presume?"
Mailah reached for the phone with hands that she hoped weren't visibly shaking. Emma's name was indeed on the screen, and she felt a rush of relief mixed with panic. Finally, a response, but now she had to deal with it while Grayson was watching her every move.
"I should..." she gestured vaguely at the phone.
"By all means." He settled back into his chair, clearly intending to stay and observe. "Don't let me stop you."
Of course he wasn't going to leave. That would make things too easy.
She opened the message, acutely aware of Grayson's intense gaze on her face as she read:
"Mrs. Ashford, I'm so sorry for the delay in responding! I was in meetings all morning. Your schedule for the rest of the week: Tomorrow you have the Children's Hospital fundraising committee meeting at 10 AM, followed by lunch with the Hartwell Foundation board at 1 PM. Thursday is the gallery opening for the Morrison Contemporary Art exhibit (you're listed as a patron), and Friday you have the monthly meeting for the Women's Literacy Initiative. I've sent detailed information about each event to your email. Is everything alright? You seem... different in your message. Let me know if you need anything else. -Emma"
Mailah stared at the phone, her mind reeling. Children's hospital committees? Art gallery patronage? Women's literacy initiatives? Her sister had been involved in serious, meaningful charity work, not just the superficial social climbing she'd imagined.
"Well?" Grayson's voice cut through her thoughts. "What's the verdict on your mysterious schedule?"
She looked up to find him watching her with that same intense curiosity, and she realized she'd been staring at the phone in silence for far too long.
"Tomorrow I have a committee meeting," she said carefully, "for the Children's Hospital fundraising drive."
"Ah yes, your pet project." Something flickered across his expression—was it surprise? "I didn't think you were still involved with that."
Pet project? Another piece of information she didn't have. Why would he think she wasn't involved anymore?
"Why wouldn't I be?" she asked, hoping to draw out more information.
"Because you told me three months ago that you were stepping back from all your charity work to focus on..." he paused, his brow furrowing slightly, "what did you call it? 'Finding yourself'?"
Shit. Had Lailah been planning to quit her charity work? Had she been preparing to tell Grayson about her illness? Three months ago would have been around the time she'd contacted Mailah, right before they'd started spending time together.
"I changed my mind," Mailah said, then immediately wondered if that sounded believable.
"Did you?" He leaned forward, and she caught that intoxicating scent again. "That's quite a shift. Though I suppose it fits with all the other changes you've been making lately."
Other changes. Her blood chilled slightly. How many differences had he noticed?
"I wouldn't call them changes," she said carefully. "More like... getting back to who I really am."
"Who you really are." He repeated the word as if tasting it. "Yes, you do seem very interested in that lately. Though I have to say, your version of who you really are seems quite different from what it used to be."
Damn it. She was painting herself into corners left and right. Every lie required three more lies to cover it up, and Grayson was clearly too intelligent to be fooled by weak explanations.
Before she could analyze his tone further, he glanced at his watch. She noticed it was an expensive piece that probably cost more than her old car.
"People change," she said, and immediately regretted the defensive tone.
"They do." He stood up abruptly, and she tensed, wondering if he was going to continue his interrogation or finally leave her alone. Instead, he walked to one of the library windows, gazing out at the manicured gardens beyond. "The question is why."
The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken questions and dangerous implications. Mailah clutched her phone like a lifeline, Emma's message still open on the screen. She needed to respond, needed to maintain the illusion that she was the same person Emma had been working with for however long.
"I should let you get back to your reading," he said, walking away.
He started toward what she now realized must be a door leading to his private office, then paused at the threshold.
"Lailah?"
The way he said her sister's name made something clench in her chest. There was something almost fond in his tone, different from his usual measured detachment.
"Yes?"
"I have to say, whatever phase you're going through..." He turned back to look at her, and for a moment his expression was softer than she'd seen it before. "I'm finding it rather refreshing. It's been a long time since I've seen you seem so... present."
Present. There was that word again.
"Wear the blue dress tomorrow. The navy one with the pearls. It's always been my favorite."
And then he was gone, disappearing through the door and leaving her alone with her racing heart and a thousand new questions.
She stared at the space where he'd been standing, trying to process everything that had just happened. He'd noticed her changes—the reading, the questions to Mrs. Baker—but seemed to be interpreting them as some sort of personal growth phase rather than evidence of deception. He was incredibly perceptive, cataloging every difference with the sharp intelligence of someone who missed nothing.
But he wasn't suspicious. Not yet.
The realization was both relieving and terrifying. Grayson was clearly brilliant, observant, and analytical. Every interaction with him was like walking through a minefield where one wrong step could expose everything. She would have to be extraordinarily careful going forward, because if anyone was going to figure out her secret, it would be him.
The blue dress with the pearls. She'd have to find it in Lailah's extensive wardrobe. Would she even recognize it? Would it fit the same way it had fit her sister?
Mailah leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes, feeling overwhelmed by the complexity of the life she'd stepped into. Every interaction revealed new layers of deception she'd have to maintain, new relationships she'd have to navigate, new expectations she'd have to meet.
And at the center of it all was Grayson—brilliant, perceptive, dangerously attractive Grayson, who was watching her with the sharp eyes of someone who noticed everything but hadn't yet connected the dots.
The question was: how long could she keep this up before everything came crashing down?
For now, she was safe. He was intrigued rather than suspicious.
But Mailah had the distinct feeling that this grace period wouldn't last forever. Grayson was too smart, too observant, and too invested in the details of their shared life to remain in the dark indefinitely.
She just hoped she could figure out how to be Lailah before he figured out that she wasn't.