The office still smelled like her.Adrian noticed it on the third morning, not the first. The first morning he’d been too busy signing things, shaking hands, feeling forty employees decide in real time whether to fear him or court him. The second morning he’d barely made it past the door before Robert Graves cornered him about the Hendricks account. But the third morning, alone, coffee going cold on the desk that used to be hers, he caught it. Something floral. Faint. Under the new paint smell and the industrial cleaner someone had used to scrub the room down before he moved in.He stood there a while, just breathing it in. Trying to decide if it bothered him.It didn’t, not really. It was just proof. Proof this office had belonged to someone else first, someone who’d never once looked at him and seen a man instead of a mistake she’d married. Now her perfume was ghosting through a room with his name on the door, and there was something almost funny about that, if he let himself find i