"That changes the category." Dylan said it carefully. "Professional interference is one thing and moving toward your secretary directly is another."
"It is."
"She likes flowers."
"Roman."
He let his name sit in the air between them. She said it differently from everyone else, not Mr Carter and not sir but just his name, with the directness of someone who had decided at some point to speak to him like a person rather than a position and had never reversed that decision.
"She was alone in that house," he said. "Someone should have sent something."
She looked at him for a moment and then her expression arrived somewhere and she nodded and went back to her desk.
He called HR. "Victoria Monroe. First thing tomorrow. My office. Have documentation ready." He had the timestamps and the access logs and the email chain and he had built this cleanly because he intended to do it once, correctly, with nothing left to dispute.
