Chapter Twenty-Five

Grace’s POV

By the time we pulled into the parking garage that morning, I’d made a silent vow to keep my mouth shut around Hunter Sinclair about his marriage.

No more questions. No more concern. No more getting caught in the crossfire of whatever was going on in that marriage. I was just the assistant. The surrogate. Nothing more. Like I had said before—all couples have fights. It was best if I stayed out of it.

After our run-in in the kitchen, the air between us on the drive had been thick with unsaid things. Not angry, exactly. Just... muted. He hadn’t spoken unless it was about work. I hadn’t dared say a word that didn’t involve schedules or reports. It was easier that way. Safer. Cleaner. Like slipping back into a role I actually understood.

Still, I couldn’t stop replaying the look on his face after I asked if everything was okay with Helena. Like I’d crossed some invisible line I hadn’t even seen coming. That cold tone in his voice, the way he shut down so fast—he may as well have slapped me.

Message received. Loud, clear, and blinking in neon.

When we stepped into the building, I kept a few steps behind him. Hunter buried himself in emails on his phone the entire elevator ride up. The silence between us wasn’t comfortable. It was tense. Thick. I pasted on my neutral expression like war paint. Just get through the day. Keep your head down. Don’t be noticed.

I settled at my desk, determined to do just that, make it through the day without doing or saying anything that might be interpreted as personal. I was halfway through my inbox when Hunter appeared, holding a folder.

“File this under client agreements. Hard copies need to go to legal by the end of day.”

His tone was clipped, professional. Not rude, but not warm either. No trace of the man who’d defended me at dinner.

I took the file, nodded. “Yes, sir.”

I saw him stiffen when I called him sir, but he barely looked at me before disappearing back into his office. That was fine. Good, even. I could handle cold better than confusing.

The elevator dinged. I looked up, expecting a courier, or maybe one of the junior execs. Roman didn’t have any face-to-face meetings until after 3 PM.

But there stood Max—all lazy grin and rolled-up sleeves. God he was hot. I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t love him.

Hunter stepped out of his office just then, eyes narrowing.

“Max. Didn’t know you were coming in to see me today.”

“I’m not,” Max said, flashing that grin again. His eyes locked on me. “I’m here for Grace.”

That earned a full beat of silence.

“You’re here for… Grace?” Hunter repeated, slow and sharp, like he was chewing glass.

Max ignored it, completely unfazed, and turned that maddeningly charming smile on me. “Lunch?”

I blinked. “Oh. Right.” I hadn’t known he was showing up, but honestly? A chance to escape the office sounded like heaven. “Let me just grab my bag.”

Hunter said nothing, but I could feel the tension coming off him in waves. I wasn’t even sure why. I wasn’t his anything. If I needed to stay out of his marriage, he needed to mind his own business about who I was friends with.

“I’ll have her back within the hour,” Max added as we stepped into the elevator.

“You don’t need to check in with me,” Hunter muttered. “She’s an employee, not a schoolkid.”

I flushed.

Max just chuckled. “Good to know.”

He took me to a tiny, tucked-away place near the office. Nothing flashy, just solid food and actual sunlight. It felt like breathing for the first time in days. He let me pick the table.

He waited until after we placed our orders before he asked, leaning forward. “You okay? You seem tense.”

I forced a smile. “I’m fine.”

He watched me a beat too long. “So… what’s it been like living with the boss and your sister?”

My throat went dry. “Fine.”

Max smirked. “Grace, I’m charming, not stupid. You flinched when he spoke to you. And he looked at me like he wanted to throw me out the window.”

I stayed quiet.

“It’s none of my business,” he added, softer now. “But I get the feeling there’s a lot going on under the surface. I was worried when you moved in. Tell me I was wrong.”

I shrugged. “If I’m not pregnant, I’ll move out.”

He grinned. “That bad, huh?”

“Can we talk about something else?”

We talked about nothing important for the next half hour. Max was easy to be around… funny, warm, almost too perceptive. He made me laugh more than I had in weeks. But every so often, he’d glance at me like he was trying to solve a puzzle I didn’t even understand myself.

“You know,” he said as we finished eating, “Helena’s always been good at playing a role. Makes you wonder who she really is underneath all that gloss.”

I frowned. I have been wondering the same. I had started to see her in a new light. “You don’t like her?”

He hesitated. “Let’s just say I don’t trust people who smile that much without blinking. She is just… very polished.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I couldn’t tell him about the man I had seen her with. Maybe it had only been once. Maybe Helena regretted it. I didn’t want to be the person who blew up a marriage.

We walked back to the office. I wasn’t in any rush. At the building entrance, Max kissed me on the cheek. Warm, simple. Friendly. I wished I could feel more. When the elevator doors opened, I stepped in alone.

Hunter was waiting at his office door when I returned. Arms crossed. Eyes unreadable. Everything in him locked down like a vault.

“Good lunch?” he asked. Not friendly. Not curious. Just clipped.

“Yes, thanks,” I replied, voice neutral.

“Great. You’re late.”

I glanced at the clock. “Only by seven minutes.”

“Don’t make a habit of it. We have work to do.”

I walked to my desk without saying a word.

If I’d learned anything this week, it was that nothing I said would make a difference. Not with him. Not anymore. He was in a mood. He was being a dick.

And honestly? I didn’t have the energy to care.