Chapter 11 Mateo
MATEO
Three weeks. That's how long it's been since Jade Sinclair crash-landed into our lives like a glamorous, guarded hurricane. And somehow, in that short time, we've gone from strangers eyeing each other across fortified hallways to... this.
Breakfast.
Not just any breakfast. A real, full-table, six-person operation. We're all gathered in the massive open kitchen: Jade, Gloria, Sophie, Ethan, Declan, and yours truly, hovering around the island like it's a conference table and this is the most critical strategy meeting of the month.
"Thank you, thank you, ladies and gentlemen," I say, with a deep bow and a flourish of my spoon. "Welcome to the inaugural Mateo Breakfast Summit. I'll be your charming host, and yes, Declan has already glared at me twice for speaking before caffeine."
"Three times," Declan mutters, sipping his black coffee like it's a sacrament.
"And counting," Ethan adds, grinning over his protein smoothie.
The food is spread out like a magazine shoot.
Individual parfaits, steel-cut oatmeal, avocado toast with tiny radish slices, and egg white frittatas that look too pretty to eat.
All prepped off-site by a caterer and delivered in vacuum-sealed containers to Jade's specifications.
She made sure each of us had meals based on our own dietary needs.
Gluten-free for Ethan, pescatarian for Gloria, and sugar-loaded for yours truly.
Even Declan's caveman-esque protein intake is accounted for.
"Did you actually request triple-bacon cinnamon rolls?" Gloria asks me, lifting a brow.
"Hey, I'm a man of simple, high-cholesterol tastes."
Jade shakes her head, smiling into her tea. "You're lucky I didn't replace them with carrot sticks after your comments last week."
"Was that before or after I caught you eating peanut butter straight out of the jar at 2AM?" I fire back.
She levels a finger at me. "That was between me and the pantry."
Laughter ripples around the kitchen. Even Declan cracks a smile.
It's strange, this ease between us. Like we've all come up for air after weeks of holding our breath. The stalker hasn't made a peep since that last note, and while none of us are naive enough to believe it's over, the silence has given us space to breathe, to settle. To almost feel normal.
"Okay," Gloria says, setting down her tablet with authority. "We've got two campaign shoots, three interviews, and a red carpet appearance on the books starting next week. The goal is to ease you back into public life without triggering a media frenzy."
"Sounds relaxing," Jade deadpans.
"And you're sure you want to do this?" Ethan asks Jade, his voice casual but his eyes watchful. "No rush if you need more time."
Something warm unfurls in my chest watching him with her. Over the past weeks, the professional wall he usually maintains has softened. Not crumbled, but... adapted.
"I'm sure," Jade says firmly. "I can't hide forever. Besides, I'm going stir-crazy in this house, charming as the company is."
"Understandable," Declan rumbles, surprising us all by joining the conversation pre-caffeine. "Cages are still cages, no matter how gilded."
"Deep thoughts from the mountain man," I tease. "Next you'll be quoting Thoreau."
"Bold of you to assume I've read Thoreau," Declan counters dryly.
"I don't know," Jade says, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "You strike me as the 'quiet desperation' type."
My eyebrows shoot up. Not only did Declan just make a joke, but Jade caught the reference and threw it back at him. These daily runs they've been taking have clearly created some kind of weird literary bond.
"Boss, I think we're losing them to the intellectuals," I stage-whisper to Ethan. "Soon they'll be discussing existentialism and wearing black turtlenecks."
"Hey, at least none of the next appointments are international," Sophie chimes in, eyes wide. "That Italian Vogue editor is still emailing about the cover they want to do with you."
"Ignore him for now," Jade says, then turns to Sophie, softening. "And thank you for organizing all this. I know you've been juggling a lot."
Sophie blinks, clearly touched. She's been nervous ever since the day Jade's mother showed up, like she's waiting to be replaced by someone who triple-checks IDs and never cries in the supply closet.
But Jade's patience with her has been steady, even gentle.
She sees people. Really sees them. And it's not something you expect from someone who grew up on magazine covers.
"You're welcome," Sophie says quietly.
"Anyone else feel like we're the cast of some weird domestic sitcom?" I say. "Gloria's the bossy-but-loving aunt, Ethan's the broody older brother, Declan's the emotionally unavailable dad, and I'm the hot neighbor everyone underestimates."
"Which makes Jade?" Gloria asks, amused.
"Obviously the misunderstood genius with the peanut butter addiction," I shoot back.
Jade flips me off with a graceful flick of her fingers, still smiling.
"So tomorrow's shoot at Bradbury Building," Ethan says, steering us back to business. "I've reviewed the security protocols. Declan and I will go on-site with Jade. Mateo, you'll run surveillance from the SUV."
"The SUV?" I protest, nearly choking on my cinnamon roll. "Why am I stuck in the car?"
"Because you're our tech guy," Ethan says reasonably, "and because last time you were at a photoshoot..."
"...I specialized in making friends, yes, I remember," I interrupt. "The makeup artist came on to me!"
"Which is exactly why you're in the van," Ethan concludes.
"Et tu, Boss?" I clutch my chest dramatically. "And here I thought you appreciated my social intelligence."
"Your social intelligence is precisely what worries me," Ethan says dryly.
Declan snorts into his coffee. "Kid's got the attention span of a goldfish when there's a pretty face involved."
"Hey! My attention span is perfectly..." I pause as Sophie reaches for the fruit platter, her bracelets jingling musically. "Sorry, what were we talking about?"
The table erupts in laughter, and I join in, not minding being the butt of the joke.
There's something easy about this group dynamic that I never expected.
If someone had told me a month ago that I'd be sitting here, trading jokes with the Ice Queen and actually enjoying her company, I'd have called them delusional.
Yet here we are.
The moment passes as Gloria taps her tablet. "Back to scheduling. After tomorrow's shoot, we have three days to review the proofs before the Vanity Fair interview on Friday. They've agreed to conduct it here rather than at their offices, which solves some security concerns."
Ethan nods approvingly. "The fewer public appearances right now, the better."
"But not zero," Jade says firmly. "I can't hide forever. I need to get back to work, back to some version of normal life."
"We'll make it work," Ethan promises, meeting her eyes. "That's what we're here for."
There's a current of something between them, subtle but unmistakable. It's been developing over these three weeks. Shared midnight conversations over cinnamon milk, morning strategy sessions that run longer than necessary. Not obvious enough for me to tease about. Yet.
"So about this shoot tomorrow," I pivot, because I'm a good friend (sometimes). "What exactly is happening at this Bradbury place?"
"It's a historic building downtown," Sophie explains eagerly. "All cast iron and Victorian details. The magazine wants to contrast Jade's modern looks with the vintage architecture."
"Sounds fancy," I say. "So we just roll up, you pose for a few hours, and we're out?"
"If only it were that simple," Gloria sighs. "Photoshoots are marathons, not sprints. Hair, makeup, multiple outfit changes, lighting adjustments. We'll be there all day."
"During which I will be tragically confined to the car," I lament. "Alone with my technology and my thoughts."
"And your triple-bacon cinnamon rolls," Jade adds. "I'll make sure the caterer packs extras."
I press a hand to my heart. "You do care."
"Don't push it," she warns, but there's no edge to it.
Yeah. We're good today. Really good.
Too good.
Because peace never sticks in our line of work.
I'm mid-coffee pour when my phone buzzes.
I glance down. Then freeze.
Not a test. Not a malfunction.
The buzz in my palm hits like a jolt, and when I see the notification, my stomach drops before my voice does.
"Uh... guys? We've got a problem."
All heads snap toward me, the easy atmosphere evaporating instantly.
"What is it?" Ethan's already on his feet, professional mode engaged.
I swipe through the alert details, my stomach sinking further. "Someone tampered with the east perimeter sensor about twenty minutes ago. System just caught the discrepancy during the automated diagnostic sweep."
"Could it be a malfunction?" Gloria asks, her knuckles white around her tablet.
"Possibly," I admit, "but these are military-grade systems with redundancies. For a sensor to register as functional during routine checks but show tampering in diagnostics..."
"Someone knew what they were doing," Declan finishes, already moving toward the door. "Someone who understands our security setup."
The implication hangs heavily in the room. This isn't a random breach. This is targeted.
"I need to check the physical sensor," I say, already pulling up the schematics on my phone. "If they left any traces..."
"I'm coming with you," Ethan cuts in. "Declan, stay with Jade."
The big man nods, positioning himself near Jade, who's gone very still, her earlier smile vanished like it never existed.
"Could it be an animal?" Sophie asks hopefully. "Or a fallen branch?"
"Sensors don't register as functional after animal interference," I explain gently. "They trigger alerts. This is different. This is someone making the system think everything's normal when it's not."
"Hiding in plain sight," Jade murmurs, and something in her voice makes me look at her sharply. There's understanding in her eyes, a weary recognition that makes me wonder just how long she's been watching her own back.
"Let's go," Ethan says, already checking his weapon. "Gloria, lockdown protocols. No one enters or leaves until we've cleared the property."
As we head for the door, I catch a last glimpse of the breakfast table, the carefully arranged food, the six places set with Jade's fine china, the normalcy we'd been enjoying moments before. Three weeks of peace shattered in an instant.