Page 116 of Obsessed by My Ex's Mafia Uncle

“Huh?” I blink.

Tati stands in front of me, brows pulled together, her expression caught somewhere between concern and impatience.

“Where did you go?” She asks, tilting her head slightly.

“Nowhere,” I answer automatically, the word coming out too quickly.

“Liar.” She doesn’t buy it. “You were outside zoning like you saw a ghost.”

“I didn’t,” I reply, already moving past her, keys shifting in my hand as I head toward the office door.

She turns with me, falling into step easily.

“Uh-huh,” she hums, not convinced but not pushing either. “If you say so.”

“Yeah.” I nod.

“So,” she starts, already in work mode, already shifting the energy. “We’ve got a small one.”

“Define small.”

“Cute small,” she corrects. “Grandma wants to throw something for her granddaughter.”

“Cute.” I set my hands down, pausing at the door.

“I told you.” She smiles.

“How old is she?”

“Seven,” she answers, flipping through her notes on her tablet. “And a very specific child who likes butterflies, but not the yellow ones because apparently they’re ‘too bright.’”

“That’s… oddly reasonable.”

“Right?” Tati nods. “Also, she wants a tea party situation but with ‘grown-up vibes.’ Her words, not mine.”

I huff out a breath, already picturing it, already slotting pieces into place: tables, colors, and theme.

“Budget?” I ask.

“Decent,” she replies. “Not crazy, but enough to make it look like we care.”

“We always care.”

“Of course we do,” she grins. “Do we take it?” She asks.

“Yeah,” I nod, slotting in the key. “We’ll take it.”

I twist just as a car pulls up.

We both turn, not enough to stop doing what we’re doing, but enough to notice.

“Clean ride.” Tati glances over first, already curious, already interested. “New client?” She murmurs, straightening instinctively, her whole posture shifting before she even knows who’s stepping out.

I push the door open, warm air meeting my skin from inside.

The door of the car opens and Atelia steps out.

I stop.