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Alton stepped into my house. “And you are?” He held out his hand for her.
“I’m Mr. Saint’s assistant, Willow.”
He eyes flamed with appreciation as he gave the leggy redhead a once over.
“If I didn’t want these fuckers to pay for what they did to Jonah, I’d go out there and punch him right now for the way he’s looking at her,” Henry seethed.
I glanced at him, his jaw clenched, eyes glued to Alton’s every move. “Willow can handle herself, even if heisa creep.”
“I know. I just…”
“What?” I pushed.
“I don’t like the idea of him looking at her like that. That’s all.”
“Any reason for that?”
“She’s my assistant,” he replied dismissively.
“Is thatallshe is?”
“What are you insinuating?” He darted his gaze toward me.
“Just that you seem to be quite protective of her.” I gave him a knowing look.
He could deny it all he wanted to, but I’d seen the way he looked at Willow.
“You’re crazy. I’m forty-two. She’s twenty-four. Plus, she’s my kid’s ex. Considering I only found out I had a kid a little more than a year ago, I’m not sure I want to make him hate me more than he already does by sleeping with his ex.”
“But youhavethought about it.”
“I…” He shook his head. “Fuck off and focus, you asshole.”
I smirked, knowing all too well what his answer was. “Good for you, Henry. And to think you gave me shit when I first got together with Imogene all those years ago because I was thirty and she’d just turned twenty-one. How old was Willow when you were thirty? In first grade?” I teased.
“Shut it, Sam,” he retorted, then flashed me a smile.
For the first time, I didn’t correct his use of my real name. I hadn’t seen him act this away around another girl in years, if ever. I was the last person to care about an age difference. I knew better than anyone that age was just a number.
I refocused my attention on the monitors, watching Willow escort Alton through the bright living area with floor-to-ceiling ocean-front views, and down a long corridor, following their path on various screens until they reached my office at the end of the east wing.
“Please have a seat.” Willow gestured to the chair I’d instructed her to offer him. “Mr. Saint is finishing up on another call, but he should be with you in a few moments. Can I get you anything while you wait? Coffee? Tea? Perhaps something a little stronger?”
“How about you?” he crooned, his southern drawl pronounced. “Areyouon that menu?” He ran a finger along her arm.
“Easy,” I warned Henry, tension radiating from him. His nostrils flared, his jaw wound so tight I was confident it was about to pop. “He can’t know you’re involved.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
I returned my attention to the screen as Willow pretended to blush at Alton’s inappropriate remarks before politely excusing herself and retreating from the room. His gaze remained fixated on her every step of the way until she disappeared behind the door.
“Goddamn,” he groaned, facing forward and discreetly adjusting himself.
Which only pissed off Henry even more, but he controlled himself.
He may not have had to suffer the years of torment I did, but he still wanted justice after what those fuckers did to Jonah.
