Emily Blair gave Rose Ward a quick rundown about the Matthew Ross situation, instructing her to keep an eye on the police station while Emily was away on business in Astoria.

Suddenly, there was a clatter on Rose's end, followed by her slightly ragged breathing. "Matthew Ross is willing to testify?"

Emily said, "He's wavering, so I need you to keep close watch and update me in real time. That way, I can respond quickly if anything changes."

Rose answered almost immediately, “Got it.”

After hanging up, Emily headed back to The Serenity to pack. Her flight was scheduled for that evening, and she still had to attend a networking event before she left a schedule that was tight, to say the least.

Tristan Davis stood by with a scowl, his broad frame planted firmly in the room, making it nearly impossible for Emily to move around and pack.

Emily grabbed a hanger and gave him a light smack on the shin. "Move it."

Tristan's scowl only deepened, but he didn't budge.

She hadn't used any real force, but from the look on his face, you'd think she'd actually hurt him.

Emily couldn't help but laugh, so she gave him another playful tap with the hanger.

Tristan crossed his arms but still didn't move.

With a sigh, Emily said, "What's with that face? I told you already-I booked this trip before you even got back. It's been planned for ages with the others.”

She tapped his shin again with the hanger. "Come on, move. I'm on a schedule here."

Suddenly, Tristan snatched the hanger from her hand, tossed it on the bed, and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her up off the floor. "Get up. I'll help you pack."

Emily sat on the bed, staring at him like he'd grown a second head.

Tristan started folding her clothes and neatly placing them in the suitcase. "I'm only home for a few days and now you're leaving. Can't I complain a little?"

Emily arched an eyebrow. "If you had a visa for Astoria, I'd take you with me. But you don't, unfortunately."

Tristan shot her a look. "It's still winter over there. Pack more warm clothes, don't catch a cold."

He stood, grabbed her down coat from the closet with practiced ease, rolled it up, and stuffed it into the suitcase.

When the clothes were done, Tristan gathered up her travel toiletries from the bedside table, tucked them into a pouch, and wedged them into a corner of the suitcase—each movement perfectly coordinated, as if he'd done it a hundred times. Emily grew more and more baffled as she watched. “Why are you so good at this?"

Tristan glanced at her and snorted, "I've watched you pack for trips at least ten times these past few years. I've got it memorized."

Emily couldn't quite put a name to the feeling in her chest.

It was... odd.

She watched as Tristan methodically packed all her usual travel essentials, filling the suitcase to the brim.

Then Tristan reached for the bottom shelf of the wardrobe and started to open it.

Emily jumped to her feet and quickly shut the door again, a little too fast her knee nearly knocked against the floor.

She pressed her hand firmly against the wardrobe, lips drawn in a tight line, and said quietly, “That's enough. I'll finish the rest myself."

Thinking about what she kept in that part of the closet made her ears burn.

Just a second more and Tristan would've seen her underwear.

Even though she didn't look directly at him, she could see the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Tristan teased, "What's in there that I'm not allowed to see?"

Emily's tone was cool. "You just can't."

Tristan let go, backing off. “Fine. Suit yourself."

Emily turned, only to catch the triumphant, barely contained smile at the corner of Tristan's eyes.

Typical.

He'd definitely figured it out.