Chapter 7

The underground parking garage of the Guthrie Group tower was damp and smelled of exhaust. Claire stood in the shadows behind a concrete pillar, clutching the warm bento box against her chest.

The VIP elevator chimed. Joshuah stepped out, wearing a sharp navy suit, his eyes scanning the dim garage until he spotted her.

He walked over, his posture stiff. He looked at Claire with a complicated mix of pity and professional distance.

"Mrs. Guthrie," he said formally. "What is this about?"

Claire held out the black bento box. "I need you to take this up to Cooper. It's his lunch."

Joshuah instantly took a half-step back, shaking his head. "Absolutely not. With all due respect, ma'am, if I bring him food from you, he will fire me on the spot. You know he won't touch it."

"I know," Claire said, biting down hard on her lower lip. The sharp sting of pain grounded her. She tasted blood. "That's why you aren't going to tell him it's from me."

Joshuah frowned, confused. "Then who?"

"Tell him..." Claire's throat closed up. She forced the words out past the agonizing lump in her airway. "Tell him Kendall sent it."

Joshuah's eyes went wide. His jaw actually dropped. He stared at her as if she had just lost her mind.

"You want me to lie to the CEO," Joshuah said slowly, "and give his mistress the credit for the food his wife cooked?"

"Yes."

"Why would you do that?" he asked, genuine shock bleeding through his professional facade.

Claire looked at him, her eyes pleading, desperate. "Because his grandfather is watching his health. If he doesn't eat properly, Sterling will find out. Please, Joshuah. Just do it."

They stood in silence for thirty agonizing seconds. Finally, Joshuah let out a heavy sigh, reached out, and took the box.

Ten minutes later, on the 60th floor.

Cooper sat behind his massive glass desk, rubbing the center of his chest with two fingers. A dull ache had been radiating there all morning.

Joshuah knocked twice and entered, placing the sleek bento box on the desk.

Cooper scowled at it. "What the hell is that?"

Joshuah swallowed hard. "Lunch, sir. Miss Kendall Hess had it delivered for you."

The dark storm clouds in Cooper's eyes vanished instantly. The tight lines around his mouth relaxed into a soft, genuine smile.

He reached out and pulled the box toward him. He popped the lid. The steam rose, carrying the delicate scent of the perfectly seasoned fish.

He picked up the chopsticks and took a large bite.

Outside the office, standing in the hallway, Claire peered through the slight gap in the frosted glass blinds.

She watched him chew and swallow. Her chest tightened, her eyes burning with unshed tears, but a massive weight lifted off her shoulders. The heart was getting what it needed. She turned and walked away toward the elevators.

Inside, Cooper swallowed the food. He immediately picked up his phone and dialed Kendall's number.

"Hey, beautiful," he said, his voice dropping an octave, rich with affection. "The lunch is incredible. Thank you."

Across the city, sitting in a velvet chair at a luxury nail salon, Kendall froze. She stared at her manicurist for a full second, her brain racing.

But her survival instincts were elite. She didn't miss a beat.

"Oh, baby," Kendall cooed into the phone, her voice dripping with honey. "I'm so glad you like it. I just want to make sure you're taking care of yourself. Eat every bite for me, okay?"

She hung up the phone. Kendall looked at her own reflection in the salon mirror. A slow, greedy, and utterly triumphant smirk spread across her face.

Back in the office, Cooper looked at the half-empty box, feeling like the luckiest man in the world.