“Miss McKinney is—”

The assistant hardly got one more word in before the shrill sound of high heels stabbing the floor reverberated throughout the hall. Its fitful beat was indicative of the wearer’s frazzled concern.

“Brendaaaan!” Charlene called out frantically, her fingers gripping her handbag. “Why aren’t you lying on your bed right now?! Did you listen to what the doctor said? You’re in no shape to walk around, darling! You must get on with the operation and take a long break!”

Not a hint of warmth surfaced in Brendan’s frigid visage. His icy tone hardly thawed. “Make me stay inside any longer, and I’ll be no different from a corpse.”

“But you should at least tell me before you leave! And look at your buttons. They are mismatched, darling. I can’t let you suffer even the weakest winter breeze!”

She tossed her bag to the assistant and latched her manicured fingers around his buttons, ensuring they were all done properly. Only after Brendan’s coat hugged tightly around his che