I don’t know what Isaac replies, but the longer they talk, the more the worry on Regan’s face eases. That weakens my shit-eating grin by an inch.
I don’t want her to give up a part of who she is for me. I fell in love with every piece of her—frustratingly annoying position and all. She shouldn’t have to pick between Isaac and me because we’re on two completely separate ends of the spectrum. He’s business. I’m personal.
With that in mind, I rise to my feet and make my way to Regan. She eyes me cautiously, unsure what has caused my chest to swell with determination.
“Alex. . ?”
Her voice trails off when I snatch her cell from her grasp and raise it to my ear. Hearing Isaac wish her the best, minus the conceited sneer I was anticipating, makes what I’m about to do ten times easier.
“What did you say to Col Petretti at the warehouse?” Although I’m asking a question, I continue speaking, blocking Isaac’s chance to reply. “Hasty decisions cause unforgiving mistakes?”
Isaac murmurs in confirmation.
“That’s what Regan is doing.” My eyes stray to Regan’s wide gaze. “I appreciate what she’s trying to do, and I’ll be sure to thank her appropriately later. . .” Isaac makes a gagging noise at the same time Regan’s face flushes with heat. “. . .but for now, nothing needs to change. Not a single fucking thing.” My last two sentences are more for Regan than Isaac.
When she nods, acknowledging she understands my objective, I return her cell phone to her, press my lips to her temple, then excuse myself from the room so she can continue her call with her client in private.
* * *
Thirty minutes later, Regan and I are back at my desk, working side by side on Dane’s case. Let me tell you, it’s a fucking hard feat not to answer the numerous sneaky glances she’s awarding me. I wouldn’t hesitate if I could give her and this case the same level of attention.
What I said to her was true. For months, we placed the concerns of those around us before ourselves. Although we’re still continuing on that path right now, it’s not the same. This case is personal for both Regan and me, so it will do our relationship more good than bad.
For that reason, and solely that reason, we’ll continue burning the candle at both ends. The faster we get the answers we’re seeking, the faster we can work onuswith just as much dedication.
When I shift a stack of photos to my right, the cause of our deep and meaningful makes a reappearance. It is the sheet of paper showing the monetary amounts Isaac has “allegedly” placed into Kristin’s account each month for over six years.
“What are these again?” I ask Regan, handing the list of transactions to her.
While she explains, I listen as I promised earlier instead of jumping in. Her recollection of the facts is plausible. I know firsthand how badly guilt eats at you, but that’s an extremely friendly gesture to grant a stranger, so why would Isaac do it?
When I ask Regan, she discloses, “Isaac dated Ophelia Petretti in college.”
“Is that how he was introduced to the underground fight circuit he’s been photographed at?” Shock resonates in my tone. I was unaware Isaac had a personal connection with a member of the Petretti family.
Regan’s eyelid twitches, but she does a good job of concealing her anger. “No, he was in the industry months before they began dating. That’s how he amassed enough capital to buy his first club.”
The pride in her tone would usually piss me off. Fortunately, Regan isn’t the only one open to new possibilities tonight. My mind is as open and free as my heart.
Regan’s voice is barely a whisper when she murmurs, “Like we all do when a loved one dies, Isaac took the blame for her death.”
I stare at her in shock.Ophelia died in a traffic accident. How could that be Isaac’s fault?
Before I can ask, Regan adds on, “That’s why Isaac is so generous. Money won’t stop anyone from suffering the pain he went through, but it does give them the opportunity to grieve freely.” I’m about to jump in with the fact that Dane didn’t die, so he had no reason to pay Dane’s family, but Regan beats me to the point. “Although Dane didn’t pass, Isaac knew the guilt I felt that night. I think he paid Dane more for my guilt than his own.”
I give her hand a squeeze, understanding her guilt for the part we both played that fateful night.
Once the pain fettering her face settles, I attempt to settle some of my confusion. “Ifgenerosity is the reason Isaac is paying Kristin, why is she hiding his payments?”
Regan shrugs, barely concealing her snarl at my stammer of the word “if.”
“I don’t know. Maybe she’s unaware Isaac continued making payments after Dane’s death? Or perhaps she’s in more debt than she’s let on? Who knows? They’re questions only Kristin can answer.” Her eyes drop to my watch. “Although I don’t think now is a good time to ask them.” The hunger in her eyes dulls when she whispers, “It’s very late.”
“Do you want to call it a night?”
Regan shakes her head before the whole question leaves my mouth. “The faster we unjumble this mess, the faster our focus will shift to Callie.”
Fuck. I’ve been so immersed in Dane’s case, I completely forgot the reason for Regan’s visit.
