Hand flew to her mouth. Then she laughed — shaky, bright, half mortified, half euphoric delirium.
Phei capped the marker. Handed it back with that same calm amusement.
"Tell your daughter I said hi," he said, voice warm enough to melt steel. "And that she's got excellent taste in posters."
Catherine nodded — still staring at the signature like it might speak to her — then dragged her eyes back up to his face, looking like a woman who'd just been quietly ruined in the best possible way.
"Is the Madam in?"
Catherine blinked. Hard. Like someone had just rebooted her operating system.
The professionalism clawed its way back up from whatever abyss it had fallen into. It made it about halfway before choking on its own embarrassment and stalling out completely.
"She—she yes, she's—oh. Oh. Right. Yes. I'm supposed to—you're here to see—"
From behind the heavy office door came a voice.
