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“That’s odd,” I say. “Especially if he hated it.” We reach the top of the stairs. “Did she inherit a lot of money?”
“No. My brother never got around to revising his will which says to me that he didn’t plan to die or he didn’t want her to inherit. I gave her some money.”
We stop at a giant arched doorway. “And you still don’t get along?”
“She tries,” he says, opening the door. “Or seems to try. Fuck, I don’t know.” He motions me forward and I step inside to find a stunning corner office with a library to the right and a floor to ceiling window to the left. His desk is in the center of the room.
“This was my father’s office,” Jax says. “Hunter never moved in here.” He rounds the huge mahogany desk and faces me.
“But you did?” I say, asking a question rather than stating the obvious. He looks good in this office, behind that desk. Powerful, in control, in the place he belongs. I wonder if Hunter belonged. It’s a crazy thought. Of course, he belonged.
“Being here is like being in the house. It keeps me in touch with him. And he is what kept us in touch with each other.” He’s silent a moment, and I can see his mind chasing away emotions. “I’ll get my things together and we can get out of here.”
“No rush,” I say, eying the books lining the walls. “I’ll explore the reading material.” I sigh. “Actually, I need to make some business calls myself.”
Jill appears in the doorway. “There you are,” she says, that red dress clinging to all of her perfect curves. She flicks me a look. “Emma,” she greets tightly, dismissing me immediately to focus on Jax. “Any word on those clients turning down our invitations?”
“It’s handled,” Jax says. “Relax.”
“That business—“
“Is handled,” Jax repeats.
“Are you sure? Because I have a million things on my plate and none of them matter if our clients are dropping like flies.”
“What can I do to help?” I offer, changing the subject because even I am feeling the irritation of her relentless repetition of a question asked and answered. “Running a hotel operation is like one big festival every night. I can help.”
“It’s all busy work,” Jill says. “Checking details. I got it.”
“What about at the actual event?” I offer. “Can I help?”
“I think we have it handled just fine,” she says, flipping blonde hair out of her pretty face. “I’ll have the final draft guest list for you tomorrow, Jax. The final tasting is tomorrow evening. I know you like to approve the selection.”
“We’ll be there,” Jax says and I swear the “we” in that reply tightens her expression.
“Seven pm,” she replies. “Rusty will present the selections.”
Jax inclines his head and Jill exits the office.
“Rusty runs the production of the actual whiskeys,” Jax says. “He’s been with us as long as Echo. Which means as long as I’ve been on planet earth.”
I cross the room and shut the door, leaning against it. “You can’t go on with that kind of tension between you two.”
“Something is off with her,” he says. “You feel it, right?”
“Yes, but she hates me because I’m a Knight and that’s not hard to understand. She clearly thinks my family had something to do with Hunter’s death. If I were her and you were Hunter, I’d have already scratched my eyes out.”
His lips quirk. “Or thrown her cellphone in the sand?”
I laugh. “More like at her head before my fist,” I tease but turn serious quickly. “If she loved Hunter, and she feels like he wasmurdered, she’s living just what you were when you came to me, Jax. A need for something to make this all make sense.”
“The red dress he hated, baby. She’s wearing it. She keeps fucking wearing it. And I don’t trust her.”
“Then you have a decision to make. Find a way to trust her or fire her.”
He presses his hands on the desk and looks skyward, struggling a moment before he fixes me in a stare. “Trust is earned. That dress—”
“Could mean something to her you don’t understand. I didn’t tell my brother I was raped. I told him York did a bad thing to me. There are things we need to deal with our own way, without explaining that process.”
