Amara left the folder on the desk, waved a quick goodbye to the floor as she passed, and was in the elevator before Adele could find anything else that needed her signature.
She left early enough to miss the worst of the traffic, and by the time she pulled into the driveway, the sky had gone that soft gold color it turned right before evening properly set in.
The house smelled like garlic and something simmering when she walked through the kitchen door, one of the maids stirring a pot with the quiet efficiency of someone who'd worked in this house long enough to know exactly how Amara liked things done, and Amara stood there a moment just supervising, hands on the counter, glad for once to have nothing more urgent to think about than dinner.
That was when Julian walked in.
