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“So is an empty stomach,” he says, “but it’s worth it to enjoy a good meal. Same with a black eye. Sometimes it’s worth it just to get to punch the other guy.”
Here, here, I think. “He’s not wrong.”
The elevator doors open and I find Grayson waiting on us in the hallway with Blake standing next to him, both men in jeans and collared shirts. Blake, who I told to just fucking wait.
With a flex of my fingers at her back, Harper steps forward and I join her, Savage immediately at my opposite side. “You have a minute for me?” Blake asks.
“After my meetings,” I say.
“Mitch Carmichael is running a half hour late,” Grayson interjects. “I can give Harper a rundown of the players and meet you in your office in fifteen minutes.” He inclines his head left at Harper. “Mia’s in my office. Let’s head in that direction.”
None of this please me, not one little bit, and I pin Blake in a critical stare. “Can this wait?”
“No,” he says firmly. “And we need to talk now and alone. You and me. Just you and me.”
Chapter one hundred fifteen
Eric
Blake’s request to speak to me alone is unexpected.
Alone.
As in without Harper present.
Blake’s point is crystal clear. He’s sheltering her from something. I don’t believe Harper needs to be sheltered. She has an inherent need to feel in control, and under the circumstances, it’s expected and understood. Knowledge is security, and it lends to the trust that will allow her to settle with two solid feet inside this new life. That doesn’t happen by shutting her out.
My hand settles possessively on her lower back. “Harper can hear anything you have to say. She’s with me. We’re relocating her here. She’s moving in.”
“Alone,” is Blake’s only reply before he seems to feel a need to clarify. “Alone means alone and I don’t ask for things without a purpose.”
“My mother—” Harper begins, worry etched in her delicate features.
“Is fine,” he assures her. “No one is injured. No one is in imminent danger.” His eyes fall on me, with a heavy beat. “Are we doing this or not?”
In other words, he’s not talking to me with Harper present, which at this point is illogical, as she’ll ask me about it later.
Harper steps in front of me, offering her back to Blake and Grayson. “I’m going with Grayson. You go with Blake.” She gives me a tiny nod, silently telling me this is fine. She’s fine.We’refine. “I’ll find you when we’re done.” With this, she rotates on her heels, and indicates her readiness to Grayson.
Grayson and I share a look filled with unspoken words. He’s worried about what this is all about and where it leads, and so am I. He motions to Harper and the two of them walk away. I stand flat-footed right where I am, waiting until the glass doors to the lobby close with their departure before I level Blake in a hard stare. “I have a massive contract to negotiate today. Whatever this is—”
“Can’t wait.” He scrubs his jaw. “Look, man, I don’t like to throw heavy shit on you before a big meeting. I get it. The NFL is big, but so is this and you need to know before you walk into a meeting and get sideswiped by bad press.”
I go still. “What bad press?”
“Can we get a room or something?”
I grimace and motion him toward the lobby doors and a minute later we’re in a small conference room, sitting across from each other at a small round table. I don’t sit down, my arms folding in front of me. “You have my undivided attention.”
“Harper’s mother is having a meltdown,” he says.
“When is she not having a meltdown?”
“She wants to call the police and the press to tell them that you attacked your father because he denied your mother cancer treatments. She says she has proof you know about it.”
“That’s an amusing and now tiresome premise,” I say dryly. “But she’s not going to the damn press. That would fuck up her perfect world.”
“You sure about that?”
