CHAPTER 25

 

Chapter 25

 

Lisa glanced at the thermometer in her hand, biting the inside of her cheek as she read the glowing numbers: 100.3 degrees Fahrenheit.

Not great, not terrible.

Setting the thermometer on the nightstand, she leaned forward, tucking the blanket snugly around Michael’s chin.

The bedroom was quiet and it was dark, except for the soft glow of a small lamp on the nightstand, barely lighting up the space while a few streaks of city lights peeked through the curtains, casting faint lines across the room and the whole place felt calm, like the outside world was still moving, but in there, everything slowed down.

The bed was massive, its white sheets now tangled around Michael’s legs as he lay there, his face pale and slightly sunken, damp hair clinging to his temples and Lisa saw him shift faintly, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

She sat on the edge of the bed, watching him with a sad smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

He was going to be okay, he was just overworked, overstrained and his body was now fighting back against all the abuse he had been put through, with chills racking his frame and fever making his skin hot one moment and clammy the next.

His breathing hitched occasionally, a leftover rhythm from the adrenaline still coursing through him after the show, his body stuck in a cruel loop of dozing and stirring, caught somewhere between exhaustion and hyper-alertness and Lisa reached out instinctively, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead feeling how his skin was warm, too warm... Leaning down, she pressed a soft kiss to his damp brow.

“You’re going to be okay…” She whispered, her voice filled with the kind of conviction she hoped would somehow seep into him. “You just need to rest. No more pushing yourself. Take it easy for once, Michael.”

A faint mumble escaped his lips, something unintelligible, lost in the haze of his feverish state and Lisa smiled again, the bittersweet kind that came from equal parts affection and heartbreak. She shifted to stand, intending to give him space and fetch him another glass of water but before she could rise, his hand shot out, clammy and trembling, yet firm enough to grip hers.

“Don’t… don’t go…” He mumbled, his voice hoarse and barely audible, but the desperation in it was unmistakable and she looked down at him, her heart twisting.

“Michael…” She said softly, “I’m just going to get you something to drink and some magnesium and vitamin C. You’ll feel better…”

He shook his head weakly, his grip tightening.

“Don’t need vitamin C…” He slurred, almost childlike in his resistance. “I need you.”

She smiled faintly and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I’ll be right back, okay? I promise.”

Reluctantly, his hand loosened, and he let her go and Lisa stood, smoothing the blanket around him again before stepping out of the room.

In the main room of the suite, Lisa let out a long, tired sigh, leaning briefly against the wall. The space was pristine and elegant, the kind of luxurious impersonal environment that felt cold. A couch and armchairs surrounded a gleaming coffee table where her purse sat, alongside an untouched fruit basket.

She walked over, grabbing her phone from her bag and when the screen lit up, Lisa could see a string of missed calls: Katherine, Janet, Katherine again.

Lisa walked slowly to the window as the city stretched out before her, glittering against the deep black of the early morning sky and a sliver of the moon hung low, partly obscured by wisps of clouds. The streets were still alive even at this hour, lights moving like restless fireflies through the narrow roads and she stared out for a moment, gathering her thoughts before she pressed the button on her phone to call Katherine.

She picked up immediately.

“Lisa…” Katherine’s voice was soft, tinged with relief and restrained urgency. “I’ve been waiting for you to call. How did it go?”

Lisa bit her lip, leaning one shoulder against the window.

“Hi, Katherine… I’m sorry I haven’t called sooner… Well, um, it’s good news and bad news.”

“Should I sit down?” Katherine asked, the faintest edge of humor in her otherwise concerned tone and Lisa chuckled softly.

“Maybe. But it’s not that bad actually, I promise. You don’t have to worry… Michael is okay.”

“Oh, thank God.” Katherine let out a shaky breath, the tension in her voice melting into relief. “What happened? So you were able to get to him and talk to him?”

“Yes, I was… He… he got sick after the show and I brought him back to his hotel room.”

“Oh goodness… How sick?”

Lisa hesitated for a beat, deciding to leave out the uglier parts of the night — like when his producers found out she was there and went all out trying to get rid of her again. They were desperate to keep Michael isolated, to keep him from anyone who might actually help him.

They kept hammering on about how he needed to go straight to the hospital, but Lisa knew better. All they probably wanted was to stuff him with downers and painkillers and turn him into a lifeless zombie.

At one point, one of them even cornered her in the hallway. His tone was calm, polite even, but the undertone was pure threat. He rambled on about contracts, obligations, and how “it’s better for everyone if Michael is handled by professionals.”

The implication was clear: back off, or things will get ugly fast. But Lisa had stood her ground, staring him down and refusing to budge. No way was she letting Michael be carted off to some cold, clinical place where they could keep him powerless and pliable — their little cash cow on a leash.

And Katherine didn’t need to hear about any of that. It would only give her more reasons to worry, and honestly, Lisa was already doing enough of that for both of them.

“Oh, it wasn’t all that serious. He’s… he’s just exhausted, Katherine. The pressure, the rehearsals, and then the show … it’s all just catching up to him in the worst way now. You know how he is… He hasn’t been eating enough, hasn’t been sleeping enough. He’s… too thin. After the show, his body just gave out and he threw up, collapsed. He didn’t faint, though, stayed conscious the whole time and I got him back here, and he agreed to rest. And that’s pretty much all he needs right now … food, water, sleep. He’ll be okay.”

Katherine was quiet for a moment before exhaling slowly.

“Thank you for everything, Lisa. For flying all that way, for helping him when he needed it most. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

“It’s nothing… ” Lisa said softly, smiling. “I’m just glad I could be here. And I’ll keep you updated, I promise.”

They talked a little longer, Katherine’s gratitude unwavering as Lisa reassured her over and over that Michael was going to be fine and when the call finally ended, Lisa set the phone down on the coffee table, running a hand through her hair.

She walked over to the bar, grabbing a glass and filling it with water before dropping in a tablet of vitamin C and magnesium and it fizzed, the tiny bubbles racing to the surface, while Lisa watched them for a moment.

With the glass in hand, she walked back to the bedroom and climbed carefully onto the oversized bed next to him. The mattress dipped slightly under her weight as she leaned back against the headboard, tucking her feet beneath her.

She glanced at Michael, who was still lying under the sheets, his face pale and his breathing shallow but steady, his dark hair sticking to his forehead in damp strands.

It was probably the lightest sleep in the world, the kind where his mind wasn’t resting so much as floating in a feverish haze but still, it was something, at least.

Michael never slept after a show… the adrenaline usually kept him wired for days and so at least now, his body was forcing him to stop, to rest, to let go…

He stirred, a faint crease forming between his brows as his lashes fluttered open.

“Lisa?” He murmured groggily, his voice raspy with exhaustion.

“I’m here… How are you feeling?” She asked, tilting her head slightly as she studied his face and Michael shrugged weakly, shifting under the covers.

“I’ve been better…” He muttered, his words almost slurred and Lisa held out the glass.

“Here. Vitamin C.”

His brows furrowed as he squinted at the effervescent bubbles swirling in the glass.

“I’m not thirsty.”

“I don’t remember asking if you were thirsty or not. Drink it.”

He rolled his eyes so faintly it was almost imperceptible, but the familiar hint of defiance made her smile.

“Gosh, you’re bossy.” He grumbled as he reached out a hand, his movements sluggish.

“Duh…” She shot back, her tone playful but firm. “More…” She added when he took the smallest sip possible.

He grunted something unintelligible but complied, taking a larger gulp before handing the glass back to her.

“Happy?”

“Ecstatic…” She said dryly, setting the glass on the nightstand. “Anything else you need?”

Michael shook his head, letting it fall back against the pillows. “No. Just… no…” He mumbled, his eyelids already drooping again.

“Okay…” She said, her tone softening. “You need to get some sleep.” She scooted toward the edge of the bed, scrambling to stand. “I’ll crash on the couch.”

“Wait.” His voice was weak, barely more than a whisper, but the desperation in it made her stop mid-motion before his hand darted out, catching hers, his fingers clammy but the grip unexpectedly firm. “Don’t go.”

Lisa turned back to him, her heart catching at the sight of his tired, pleading eyes.

“You need to rest, Michael.” She said gently. “I’ll be right there, on the couch…”

“No.” His voice cracked, and he shook his head, his dark eyes shimmering in the dim light. “Stay here. Please.”

Lisa sighed and hesitated before she glanced down at herself, still clad in the tight, uncomfortable dress from earlier. She hadn’t had the chance to change, and the thought of spending another second in the restrictive fabric made her want to scream. She just wanted to disappear in the other room, take it off and sleep for a few hours, then put it back on before everyone woke up.

Michael seemed to notice her hesitation, his gaze flicking to her dress as if he could read her mind.

“The closet’s full of my stuff, Lise.” He said in a low voice, his tone softer now, almost shy. “Take one of my shirts or something. Just… don’t leave me. Please.”

The vulnerability in his voice hit her hard while sadness and honesty swirled in his eyes, but there was something else there too, something that looked like trust, like he was handing her his fragility once again and hoping she wouldn’t break it.

“Okay…” She whispered, her decision made and she gave his hand a gentle squeeze before she stood up. “I’ll be right back.”

The closet was as lavish as the rest of the suite, filled with neatly hung clothes that smelled faintly of fabric softener and Michael’s cologne, and she reached for a black T-shirt with a bold design on the front, holding it up for a moment before nodding to herself. It would do.

Then, in the bathroom, Lisa leaned against the sink for a moment, exhaling deeply. She spotted a container of cotton pads and a bottle of makeup remover on the counter and grateful for the find, she wiped away the smudges of mascara and foundation, then splashed cool water on her face. Brushing her fingers through her hair, she freed it from its stiff style, letting it fall in loose waves around her shoulders and then, finally, she wriggled out of the tight dress, too, sighing audibly as the constricting fabric pooled at her feet.

Pulling the oversized T-shirt over her head, she let the soft material fall against her skin and smiled at how was blissfully comfortable it was, the smell of it soothing. However, when she stepped back into the bedroom, she stopped short, her brow furrowing. Michael was sitting up slightly, the remote control in his hand as he flipped through channels on the TV.

“Hey…” She said, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

“It’s too quiet…” He grumbled, not looking at her and Lisa sighed, climbing back onto the bed and leaning against the headboard.

“Come on, Michael.”

“I want to have a movie on…” He said, his voice still weak but laced with stubbornness and defiance, like the little kid he could be at times.

Lisa stretched out her legs, crossing them at the ankles, and caught him sneaking a glance at her bare legs. Her skin warmed with a faint flush creeping up her neck, but she bit back a grin and gestured toward the screen instead.

“Fine. But you’re lucky I’m nice…”

His lips twitched, just barely, in what might have been a smirk, but it disappeared almost as quickly as it came when a shiver rippled through him, his shoulders jerking slightly, and he let out a slow, shaky breath before closing his eyes.

“Here…” She said softly, reaching for the remote in his hand. Their fingers brushed for the briefest moment, and the warmth of his touch sent a flutter through her stomach she wasn’t prepared for.

“Lie down and pull the blanket up. You need to rest.”

He frowned, reluctant, but obeyed, shifting down and letting her pull the covers up to his chin.

“You really should try to sleep, help the body fight the fever.”

“I will… I just need some white noise, is all.”

“Okay, okay…”

Lisa clicked through the options on the TV, the glow of the screen flickering across the room in a mix of blues and whites while Michael lay beside her, quiet but still very much awake. The channel list seemed endless, but finally, she stopped on Casablanca.

Timeless and easy to watch.

She turned her head toward him, arching a brow.

“This one okay?”

Michael glanced at the screen, then back at her, his lips curling into the faintest smile.

“Perfect.”

She settled against the headboard, her legs tucked under her as the opening credits began, dramatic music swelling as the black-and-white image of a spinning globe filled the screen. She watched intently as the opening narration began, setting the stage in World War II, with refugees flooding Casablanca in search of freedom but her attention didn’t last long when she felt a chill run along her skin, starting at her arms and spreading down to her bare legs.

The AC was on full blast, and while Michael’s oversized T-shirt was soft and comforting, it wasn’t doing much to keep her warm. She tried to ignore it, rubbing her arms lightly but before she could adjust her position or even reach for the blanket, she felt Michael’s hand brush against hers lightly.

The contact startled her, gentle as it was, his fingertips grazing her wrist before resting there. Lisa felt his fingertips draw slow circles on the soft, sensitive skin of her hand before she turned her head toward him, raising her eyebrows.

“Are you cold?” His voice was soft, but even in its weakened state, it carried concern.

“Just a little…” She admitted, smiling faintly. “It’s okay.”

“C’mon…” He murmured, his dark eyes meeting hers. “Get under the sheets.”

She hesitated, the exhaustion pulling at her limbs making the invitation all the more tempting.

“If I do, I’ll fall asleep within two minutes…” She said, stifling a yawn as though to prove her point.

“And what’s the problem with that? You must be tired too…”

“You’re the one who’s supposed to be sleeping, not me.”

“Lisa…” He said, his tone dipping into something softer, almost pleading. He didn’t say anything else, but the way he looked at her was enough to convince her and she sighed, giving in, before she slipped under the covers.

The warmth was immediate, washing over her like a wave and soothing her freezing limbs, and she exhaled audibly, her body sinking into the mattress as the tension in her muscles eased. She stretched her legs out, only to feel her foot brush against Michael’s under the sheets and the contact sent a jolt through her, making her pull back instinctively, mumbling an apology under her breath.

Michael slowly turned onto his side, his hand reaching out to rest gently on her shoulder but the weight was light, almost as if he was afraid she would pull away.

“Lise…” He said softly, his voice drawing her gaze to his.

The movie playing on the TV seemed to fade into the background as his dark eyes locked onto hers and in the dim light of the room, illuminated only by the shifting glow of the TV, his expression looked unguarded and open. Then, his hand moved, fingertips tracing the line of her jaw with a featherlight touch, sending a ripple of warmth coursing through her and she couldn’t look away no matter how much she tried. Her thoughts swirled in a confusing mix of emotions… relief that she was there with him, gratitude that he was okay, and an ache for all the things left unsaid between them.

Being this close to him felt like home, like slipping back into something she had tried to pretend she didn’t need, but there was a shadow of doubt too.

He was running a fever, after all, his body and mind worn thin. Was any of this real, or was it just his exhaustion talking?

Before she could sort through the mess in her head, Michael’s voice broke through her thoughts.

“You saved me, Lisa. You saved me today.”

She opened her mouth to respond, to downplay it, but he shook his head and gently pressed a finger to her lips, his touch warm and his gaze steady.

“No. Let me say it… Thank you… for coming back. For helping me. For not giving up on me.”

The sincerity in his voice made her throat tighten, and she found herself only nodding, unable to form words.

Then, his hand fell from her lips, but his touch didn’t leave her, instead, his fingers lingered, tracing slow, deliberate paths along the sensitive curve of her neck and she could feel the warmth of his skin against hers, the slight roughness of his fingertips sending goosebumps across her body.

His fingers danced toward her ear, barely brushing the skin there, then returned to her neck and she shivered while her hand started trembling slightly, as if it wanted to reach up and trace the lines of his jaw, too, and to pull him closer, but she didn’t….

They stayed like that for a long moment, their faces just inches apart and Lisa could see every detail of him, the faint stubble on his jaw, the lines of exhaustion etched into his face and the way his eyes softened as he looked at her. The shifting light from the TV played across his features, casting shadows that seemed to dance with each changing scene and Lisa wanted to close the gap between them, to press her lips to his and kiss away all the pain and weariness she could see in his face but she held back, the rational part of her whispering that it wasn’t the time, that he probably wasn’t thinking straight.

And yet, the way his fingers moved, the way his eyes stayed locked on hers, made her wonder if, maybe, she was wrong… She could go on and on about it in her head, analyzing every little detail, but at some point, her thoughts stopped mattering because Michael leaned in and his lips brushed hers in the softest, most tentative kiss she had probably ever experienced. It was barely there, just the lightest pressure, warm and achingly gentle.

His lips were dry but soft, and he tasted faintly of the vitamin C she had made him drink earlier, a subtle, lemony tang lingering on his lips. Lisa held her breath as her lips slowly moved against his, her body acting on its own and when they pulled back, Michael’s palm cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing along her skin in slow, soothing strokes.

Her heart pounded in her chest, every beat echoing in the silence that surrounded them.

“I love you, Lise and I’m so sorry I was such a jerk to you.” Michael said, his voice a whisper but so full of emotion that it made her chest tighten. “I love you… So, so much. Please, don’t let go.”

His arm slipped around her, pulling her close, and the warmth of his body, despite the fever, wrapped around her, making her feel safe. She relaxed into him, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing against her ear and her own eyes grew heavy, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with her.

As she drifted off the sleep, his words echoed softly in her mind, a comfort she couldn’t shake. She thought she heard him murmur it again … ‘so, so much’, but she wasn’t sure if she was still awake or already dreaming. Either way, she let it settle over her, her heart full and her doubts fading for a moment.

 

 

Lisa woke to a soft glow pressing against her closed eyelids. The light filtering through the thick, cream-colored curtains spilled into the room, bathing everything in a gentle warmth and she blinked slowly, letting her eyes adjust as the details of the luxurious bedroom came into focus.

The bed she was lying in was enormous, the sheets smooth and impossibly soft against her skin while the headboard stretched up like a piece of modern art.

On the far wall, floor-to-ceiling windows hinted at a view of the whole city, though the drapes muted it for now… And then there was the warmth at her back.

Lisa didn’t move right away, not wanting to disturb the way Michael’s body was pressed against hers, one arm wrapped securely around her middle and the other tugged under her head. His breathing was slow and even, the soft rhythm of it brushing against her neck and waking up in his arms felt like that kind of dream she really didn’t want to let go of for now…

And so for a moment, she let herself sink into it, closing her eyes again as she felt his chest rise and fall against her back. His arm, heavy with sleep, was slung across her waist, holding her close and she could feel the rough edges of his hand resting against her stomach, tucked under her hiked-up shirt, his fingers relaxed but somehow still possessing that protective hold. She had missed this more than she was willing to admit, and now, she wanted to just freeze this moment in time and to wrap herself in the peace of it.

But then her eyes fluttered open again, and they landed on the clock on the bedside table, the bright red numbers glaring back at her: 9:47 AM.

Shoot…

She bit her lip, her mind drifting to Michael’s kids. They had to be worried sick about their daddy.

Carefully, she slid her hand under Michael’s arm, gently lifting it as she shifted her weight and she moved slowly, inching her way out from under his hold. She stopped when he stirred slightly, murmuring something incoherent, but then his breathing evened out again, and she let out a silent sigh of relief. When she finally slipped free, she turned to look at him one more time.

Michael was still out cold, his features relaxed and she reached out instinctively, brushing a stray lock of hair away from his forehead but he didn’t even stir, and for a moment, she just watched him, a soft smile pulling at her lips.

Then she padded across the carpet toward the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind her. The toothbrush she had used last night was still there, sitting in its holder, so she grabbed it and quickly brushed her teeth. Afterward, she ran a brush through her hair, smoothing out the tangles, then splashed cool water on her face, the refreshing chill waking her up just a little more.

When she was done, she glanced down at herself and groaned. She was still wearing his black t-shirt, the one she had slept in, and other than that, she had no clothes at all… The dress from last night was her only other option, but there was no way she was putting that thing back on.

Her eyes quickly flicked to the bedroom door, and with a quiet breath, she stepped back inside. She moved cautiously, careful not to make a sound, and made her way toward Michael's closet.

Her heart skipped a beat when the door creaked slightly under her hand, but she held her breath and paused... When she heard no movement from the bed, she exhaled softly, relieved.

Inside, she grabbed a pair of black slacks, knowing there was no way they would fit her and look somewhat okay on her but slipped them on anyway. They hung loosely on her hips, but with a quick roll at the waistband, they actually didn’t look that bad. Next, she grabbed one of his black T-shirts and tugged it over her head, tucking it into the pants and while the outfit wasn’t exactly chic, it was the best she could pull at the moment.

As she walked back into the room and turned to leave, she caught sight of Michael again. He had shifted slightly, one arm now tucked under his head, his face still serene in sleep and she stood there for a moment, just looking, letting herself soak in it before she smiled softly and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her.

The hallway outside his suite was quiet, the walls adorned with tasteful artwork and soft lighting, and Lisa felt a little ridiculous padding around barefoot, but it wasn’t like she had some choices when it came to shoes…

She walked slowly, unsure of where to go but resolved to find Michael’s kids. Her ears strained for any sound, and as she passed a door near the end of the hall, she caught the faint sound of voices. She stopped, tilting her head closer to the door.

“Prince, you’re cheating!”

“Am not! You’re just bad at this!”

Lisa couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips as she listened to the familiar bickering. She raised her hand and knocked lightly on the door before nudging it open just wide enough to poke her head in.

Inside, the room was filled with the happy voices, laughter echoing off the walls, the sound of dice clattering against the board, and the occasional playful shout. But as soon as she stepped through the door, the conversation screeched to an abrupt halt and three pairs of wide eyes locked onto her, and for a moment, everything felt suspended in time.

Pure shock.

“Lisa?!” Paris’s voice broke the silence, high and breathless, and within seconds, her little body shot out of her chair like a rocket, hurtling across the room and launching herself at Lisa with all the force her small frame could muster.

Lisa barely had time to brace herself before Paris’s arms wrapped around her waist, squeezing so tightly it took her by surprise. A startled laugh escaped her lips, but Paris didn’t loosen her grip, her voice muffled against Lisa’s side.

“You’re here!” Paris repeated, her words almost disbelieving. The change was shocking… Paris, who had earlier barely acknowledged Lisa, clearly wishing she was out of her life entirely, was now hugging tightly, almost desperately and Lisa’s heart skipped, stunned by the shift.

“Lisa!” Prince’s voice was next, high-pitched with excitement, followed closely by Blanket’s, both boys racing toward her. Blanket’s smaller body collided with her legs, and she staggered for a moment before crouching down to pull all three of them into her arms.

“Hey, hey, how are you, guys???” Lisa laughed, her fingers ruffling Blanket’s hair as he grinned up at her.

While she hugged all three of them tightly, her eyes flickered past their heads, landing on a young woman standing near the small table where the kids had been playing.

She looked to be around twenty, maybe a bit older, her light brown hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, a nervous smile tugging at her lips. She was dressed casually, jeans and a fitted T-shirt, and her arms were crossed in that way people did when they weren’t quite sure how to fit into a situation.

Lisa smiled and gave her a small nod. “Hi there.”

“Hello…” The girl’s voice was soft, uncertain, as she took a hesitant step forward.

Lisa straightened, gently untangling herself from the kids, though Paris’s hand stayed firmly clasped in hers like she was afraid to let go.

“I’m Lisa. Nice to meet you. And you are?”

“Jenny…” The girl answered, holding out her hand and Lisa took it, giving her a firm, friendly shake.

“Nice to meet you, Jenny.” Lisa noticed the flicker of unease in the girl’s eyes, the way her smile wavered slightly as she glanced between Lisa and the kids but Lisa decided to hold off on reading too much into it for now. There were more important things to focus on.

And before she could say anything else, the kids jumped back into the conversation, their questions tumbling out all at once…

“When did you get here?”

“Did you see Daddy last night?”

“Are you staying?”

Lisa laughed and held up her hands, trying to bring some order to the chaos.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down, you guys! One question at a time, okay?”

But, of course, that didn’t work. They started talking all over again, even louder this time and Lisa shook her head, amused, before finally answering.

“Okay, okay. Yes, I got here last night. Yes, I saw the show. And yes, I’m staying... for now, anyway.”

She added that last part quietly, unsure how much she could promise. Then Lisa stepped toward the table, absently picking up one of the toys, some small action figure of a superhero she didn’t recognize, and twirling it between her fingers.

“Guys, your dad’s still sleeping…” Lisa said, her voice softening as she looked down at the kids, their happy expressions faltering a bit. Worry flickered in their eyes, and she crouched down again, lowering herself to their level so they could see she wasn’t worried. “He’s just a little under the weather, that’s all. Nothing to worry about, okay?”

“Is he sick?” Paris asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“Kind of…” Lisa said, brushing a strand of Paris’s hair behind her ear. “But he’s okay. He just needs a little rest.”

“Are you here to make him better?” Blanket asked, his face scrunched up in that serious way he always wore when he was trying to figure something out and Lisa smiled softly, shrugging.

“I’ll do my best.”

As she stood up, smoothing down the borrowed T-shirt she was wearing, she turned to Jenny.

“Did you guys have plans for today?”

“We were supposed to go to the toy store…” Jenny nodded. “With Mr. Jackson.”

“Yeah, um… that might have to wait.” Lisa bit her lip. “But maybe you guys can go without him? I think he’d be okay with that.”

The kids immediately deflated, their faces turning into identical masks of disappointment.

“It’s not the same without Daddy…” Blanket said and Lisa crouched again, keeping her tone light, trying to keep the mood from getting too heavy.

“I know, buddy, but he’d want you to have fun, don’t you think? And maybe you could even pick out something for him while you’re there. Something to help him feel better. How about that?”

At that, their faces lit up a little, and Jenny quickly jumped in, her voice taking on a cheerful tone, clearly trying to make the idea seem exciting while subtly working to make them okay with the sudden changes.

“Oh, yeah! We could find something really cool for your dad. What do you think?”

And that was all it took.

"We can get him a teddy bear!"

"Yeah! The one that says 'Get well soon'!"

Prince and Paris scrambled to grab their shoes, while Jenny started helping Blanket into his jacket and Lisa stepped back, smiling softly.

As they finished getting ready, the boys followed Jenny out the door, but Paris lingered, her eyes fixed on Lisa. She hesitated for a moment, like she wasn’t sure if it was okay to do whatever she was about to do, but then she walked back over and threw her arms around Lisa’s waist again, hugging her tightly.

Lisa hugged her back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“You’re going to be here when we get back, right?”

“Absolutely…” Lisa said, her voice steady and warm. “Now go have fun, okay?”

Paris nodded and ran after the others, her small footsteps echoing down the hallway as she disappeared around the corner and Lisa watched them go, her gaze lingering for a moment before she turned and started to walk back toward Michael’s suite.

But as she opened the door her eyes fell on the figure inside, a man standing in the room, near Michael’s desk, engrossed in a piece of paper.

Lisa hesitated for a beat, she wasn’t sure who he was or what he was doing there, but the uneasy feeling that washed over her told her it probably wasn’t going to be a pleasant encounter.

He was tall, dressed in a suit that screamed money, but his face was sharp and cold. He held a paper in one hand, and when he looked up at her, his mouth curved into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Well, well, well…” He drawled, his voice smooth and insincere. “If it isn’t Ms. Presley. My pleasure.”

Lisa’s stomach tightened. She didn’t know this man, but everything about him screamed trouble. She squared her shoulders, narrowing her eyes as she approached him cautiously.

“And you are?”

He stepped closer, holding out a hand that she didn’t take.

“John Evans. Project producer. I think we’ve spoken on the phone once…”

Ah. Ding, ding, ding. Just as she had suspected… this was probably the same man she had called when trying to reach Michael, the one who had been curt with her, brushing her off with a quick “he’s busy” before hanging up and blocking her number.

A vampire who fed on people like Michael, milking them dry and tossing them aside when there was nothing left.

Lisa folded her arms, her expression icy, making it clear she was not going to shake his hand.

“Right…” She said, her tone cold. “And what exactly are you doing here?”

The man’s smile widened, but the coldness in his eyes never wavered.

“Just checking in…” He said smoothly.