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There’s no sign of discomfort or annoyance with my question. If anything, I sense respect in his steely gaze.

“Other than being susceptible to a friendship struck in a bar, and recommending Luke to Arrow, he had no involvement.”

I want to ask if that’s been officially determined, if the investigation has officially concluded Liam Sullivan had no involvement, but I sense Dorian’s hand at my back, and the tips of his fingers dig into my waist.

“Your friend, Nick Ivanov, has proven a great ally,” Jack says.

Jack and Dorian are nearly the same height, and it feels as if the conversation is now between the two of them, with Ava and me as spectators.

“Surprising, isn’t it? Given his connections?” Dorian answers.

“It is,” Jack says. “Are you still in touch with your other friends?”

Dorian’s lips spread into a smile, and it’s then that I realize he no longer appears bound by societal or business expectations. That smile is one that says he’s truly done with climbing or cloak-and-dagger charades.

“The alliance disbanded. As I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Are there any negative implications for you?”

“No, none at all, actually,” Dorian answers. “The friendships remain. The connections. Zenith maintained security in stressful times, and if anything, has retained respect and confidence from clients.”

“See? A good year,” Jack answers. “Have you heard from Jiang Tu?”

The Chinese national went missing months ago.

“Word on the street is he went golfing. Should be home before the new year.”

They both exchange knowing smiles, and Dorian, ever mindful of all of those surrounding him, directs a question to Ava. “And how has the year been for you? I understand you opened up a new rehabilitation center? One in Arizona?”

“Yes.” Ava beams. She runs a successful nonprofit drug rehabilitation center with a focus on transition from rehabilitation into society. “And I must thank you for your donation.”

I expect to see surprise on Dorian’s face, as he employs someone on staff who manages his charitable trust, but that’s not what I see. No, what I see is gracious acknowledgment, and a shared understanding passes between Dorian and Jack.

Sophia sees me across the room and approaches with a smile. “Dad, you’re supposed to greet the guests. Not monopolize them.” She takes my arm to pull me away, then, as if spotting Dorian for the first time, says, “Dorian, it’s good to see you.”

“Is it?”

My gaze darts to him, but I relax when I see his soft smile.

She’s my friend, and while she led the charge in placing him on a person of interest list, he doesn’t hold it against her.

After all, if she hadn’t given me a reason, I might never have shown up at his gate.

He’s brokering a truce and finding ground for friendship.

“It’s definitely good to see you,” she says. “Come with me. Let’s get you both drinks.”

As we step away, Ryan and Trevor join Jack, and Dorian squeezes my hand, saying, “I’ll catch up with you.”

He wishes to speak with the bosses. Of course, he does. There may be more to discuss. He may be hoping for more information. Geoffrey Cromwell remains in custody on kidnapping charges, but they’ve been working on getting information from him all week. The investigation is far from over.

“So…” Sophia says the second we’re out of earshot.

“So,” I counter.

“You’re back with him? It’s a done deal?”

“We’re taking it…” I bite back the overly simplistic, taking-it-slow description. “We’re being intentional.”

“You ready for DC?” She’s challenging me. That’s fair. She’s a good friend.

“He’s not pursuing a political career.”

She’s skeptical, but instead of voicing her doubts, she raises one eyebrow and smirks.

“He knows that’s not the life I want. I’ve pushed him on it, actually, but no, he’s insistent on staying away from politics.”

“Good. I’m glad he’s accepted that’s not the life you want.” Before, it wasn’t that he didn’t accept that I didn’t flourish in the spotlight, he just didn’t know what to do about it. At the time, leaving New York didn’t feel like an option. “Are children on the horizon? Is that the life you want?”

“One day.” I breathe deeply to steady myself.

A month ago, I was dating other men. I need to give myself time.

“Getting pregnant in our first month, even our first year back together, has bad idea written all over it. We need to find our grounding. I need to figure out how to be with him without something as unsettling as a child in the mix. Does that make sense?”

“It does. Children are…” Her eyes widen for dramatic emphasis. “Yeah.”

“Are you and Fisher?”

“Not yet. But it’s something I’ve been thinking about.”

“Didn’t you tell me one night years ago that you didn’t want kids?”

“Things change.”

“While it’s just us…does it bother you at all that there’s no investigation into Liam Sullivan?”

I don’t call him her uncle, as I know that she’s not particularly close to him.

Liam has a son, her cousin she hasn’t spoken to in years, who is constantly in and out of the tabloids.

Her cousin lives in Los Angeles, and Liam lives in Houston, and neither of those cities are ones she travels to regularly.

She’s spent more time abroad than anywhere in recent years.

“I don’t think he broke any laws.” She slows her steps and looks at me. “He was played. That’s all.”

“Perhaps, but everyone in the defense industry will gain from the renewed defense priorities. I can’t help but think it’s worth investigating.”

“There’s no investigation, that I’m aware of, into Dorian’s involvement.”

“It’s not a tit-for-tat situation,” I answer.

“And that’s not exactly true. The Bedrock board will hold an internal investigation.

” From what I understand, the investigation is more to review all communications from Halston, as they may have been compromised, but an investigation will occur. “And I believe the NSA is still…”

I leave the sentence unfinished. No one knows exactly what the NSA will do, but this strikes me as a situation they will not close until a comprehensive review has been completed.

“Why don’t you let it go tonight? Enjoy the holiday party.”

She’s right. I should let it go. But this idea that the wealthy and connected aren’t investigated doesn’t sit well with me, especially when they have the propensity to be far more dangerous to national security and welfare than the ordinary citizen.

We reach the bar and both order the signature party cocktail, a red concoction with maraschino cherries speared with an Arrow.

She taps my glass and says, “You’ll drive yourself mad if you can’t step away from it all and enjoy those around you.

There will never be a shortage of crises, and the one constant is change. ”

She nods her head in Dorian’s direction. He’s talking with Fisher, her husband, but was clearly headed in our direction before getting waylaid.

“Case in point,” she says. “Dorian went from suspect to friend overnight.”

“That he did.” I absentmindedly touch my thumb to my ringless ring finger. Changes indeed. “Speaking of changes…” Sophia and Fisher have been staying in Santa Barbara in an Arrow condominium for weeks. “Are you leaving the CIA?”

“No. The line on projects between Arrow and the CIA can blur, given Arrow occasionally takes on projects from them and, you know, my father’s role, but we’ll be heading back east after the holidays.”

Actually, I’m not clear about Jack’s role within the CIA, but I’m certain it’s a need-to-know arrangement.

“But I do want children. One day,” Sophia says wistfully. “When I transition out of the field.”

“Wow. I had this vision of you working in the field past retirement age.” She grins. “You know, gray hair, knitting on a park bench.”

“Nothing’s set in stone. It’s an idea.”

“A Christmas miracle.”

Still grinning, she clinks her glass against mine.

“Do you ever see Sydney?” The three of us finished in the same class at Langley.

Whereas Sophia got a plum assignment pretty quickly, Sydney and I suffered for years under the same asshole.

Sydney finally got her chance in the field, but last I heard, she’d been relegated back to DC, working for the same jerk.

“I hardly ever see her. You know what it’s like. When Fish and I are home, we don’t go out as much anymore. Getting older, I guess.” Sophia shrugs her shoulder. “When we return, I’ll call her. It’s been a while since we got together. Too long.”

“I should reach out, too. Last I spoke to her, she put in for a transfer.”

“Oh, really? What does she want to do?”

“Anything outside of Flanagan’s domain.”

Sophia nods her head, all too knowingly. “He’s such an asshole.”

“Misogynist fuckwad.”

She tips my glass with hers. “But you escaped.”

As our glasses clink once again, I send a wish to the universe for Sydney to find something better.

“Don’t look now, but Ethan’s headed over.”

I narrow my eyes in warning. I put up with her pushing me about Luke, but now she knows I’m with Dorian.

The tall man approaching is familiar, but only through the photographs on Stella’s desk. Ethan’s sandy blonde hair is longer than I would’ve expected from someone in the military, but he’s fit. The bear hug he gives Sophia has her giggling, and her feet lift off the floor.

I watch their reunion for a moment, remembering how Sophia had described their friendship—comfortable and uncomplicated.

Something warm and slightly envious twists in my chest. Before I can analyze the feeling, a familiar presence appears at my side, the subtle scent of sandalwood announcing his return before his voice does.

“Sorry about that,” Dorian says, pulling me to his side. “What are you drinking?”

“It’s the holiday cocktail on the menu. It’s a little sweet for your taste. The snowflake martini might be more to your liking. Or you can choose your poison.”

He lifts the cocktail from my hand and sips. His nose wrinkles.

“Not to your liking?”

“No,” he says.

“They may have a bourbon you like.”