At first, Fay did not mean to listen.
The VIP lounge was for family and inner-circle guests only.
Staff had been warned twice not to linger near it.
But the heavy door had not latched all the way.
It stood open by barely an inch, a thin slice of warm light cutting across the floor.
Celeste spoke lightly, almost playfully.
“After the wedding, the papers will already be signed.”
Fay’s hands paused under the water.
A man answered.
His voice was low, rough, comfortable.
“Only if he signs before the ceremony.”
“He will,” Celeste said.
“Griffin likes control.
