CHAPTER 142: Coffee Table

"You're... at the gate?" I sit up, confusion flaring. Mike hasn’t dropped by unannounced since he was a teenager sneaking in past curfew. "What’s going on?"

"I just need a place to crash for a while. Can I come in?"

I give the guard the necessary clearance and hang up, still trying to wrap my head around why Mike is here at nearly midnight. I glance over at Desiree, who raises an eyebrow but says nothing, though her eyes are swimming with questions of her own.

A few minutes later, Mike steps into the living room, dragging a large, clearly packed suitcase behind him. He looks... rough. Dark circles under his eyes, his usually impeccable suit wrinkled, his tie shoved hastily into his jacket pocket. He doesn’t look like the polished, composed man who’s been my thorn in the business side lately. He looks—well, he looks lost.

"Didn’t know I’d be getting a visit tonight," I say, trying to keep my tone light.

Mike gives a half-hearted shrug. "Didn’t know I’d be here either."

We stand there i