Olive followed them out of the room, light on her feet, her energy trailing behind her like a soft breeze that refused to be ignored.
"Thank you again," she said, as they stepped into the hallway, the door closing behind them and leaving Max alone with his notes and thoughts. "I really appreciate you both making time for this."
Gianna inclined her head politely. "It was productive."
"It really was," Olive agreed, then hesitated, rocking slightly on the balls of her feet. "Um—would you…would you like to have a late lunch with me? If you're not too busy, of course."
Gianna felt Areso's glance flick toward her, quick and questioning.
She returned it just as subtly. A silent exchange—do we?—can we?—should we?
Outwardly, both women remained composed.
"That would be nice," Areso said smoothly before Gianna could overthink it.
"Yes," Gianna added, her tone warm but measured. "We can do lunch."
