Emily stood behind Theo, frowning toward the doorway—only to see a refined-looking middle-aged woman frozen in place, staring back at them.
Her outfit was elegant but sharp: a fitted jacket cinched with a metallic belt, a patterned maxi skirt, and high-heeled boots. Retro but stylish.
And from the look on her face, she was even more stunned than they were.
“Mom,” Theo said at last, exhaling as if in both relief and resignation. “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”
Mom? Emily blinked. She glanced at the woman, then at Theo—same eyes, similar bone structure. So this was Mrs. Maren. The boss’s mom. Not a threat. She instinctively relaxed and stepped out from behind Theo.
Gemma’s gaze tracked Emily, still locked on her when she spoke. Her words stumbled slightly, distracted, “I mean, I’
