Theresa.
The smooth glass doors of the private executive dining room slid shut behind us, cutting off the quiet hum of the penthouse floor.
The room was bathed in bright afternoon light, offering a stunning view of the skyline through the floor-to-ceiling windows. In the center of the room sat a solid walnut table set with four steaming plates of gourmet catered lunch—grilled salmon, wild rice, fresh roasted vegetables, and a carafe of chilled lemon water.
"Sit, Theresa," Leonard said softly, pulling out the comfortable leather armchair at the head of the table for me with gentle, attentive care. "You've been on your feet more than enough today."
"Thank you, Leonard," I said with a warm smile, stepping past him and sitting down.
