“Obviously.”
“Keep running,” she said. She didn’t sound at all like her usual self. Not as the young woman I’d come to know.
“What’s going on?” I demanded.
“I’m here to warn you.”
“Warn me?”
“Whatever you’ve got going with Flynn Campbell, shut it down now. Quit his club, find another job, break up with him. Just get out.”
“What? Why would I do that?”
“I can’t tell you. But I like you, Barrett. I think you’re a good person. If you stay close to Campbell, you’ll get hurt.”
It wasn’t a threat—that wasn’t the tone of Chelsea’s message.
“Heed my advice,” Chelsea said before sprinting away from me and disappearing around the bend.
Any peace or clarity I’d hoped to achieve on my run was quickly dashed.
“What do you mean he’s not here?” I demanded.
The concierge behind the hotel desk shot me a sympathetic but helpless look. “I’m very sorry—”
“Where is he?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
I smacked my hand on the counter, causing her to flinch and others in the lobby to look at me. “This is important.”
“I’m sure it is,” the concierge said with a strained smile. “I can call Mr. Campbell’s cell phone and leave a voicemail—”
“I can do that myself!” I snapped.
“Barrett,” Brad called as he strolled across the marble floors of the lobby. His eyes raked over me, his gaze taking everything in from my lopsided ponytail to my running clothes. “What’s going on?”
“This woman just informed me that Flynn isn’t here and won’t tell me where he is.”
“Why don’t you come with me,” Brad urged, grasping me by the arm, not taking no for an answer. He all but dragged me to his private office. Monitors were mounted on the wall, all depicting various parts of the hotel. He had his eye on everything.
Closing the door, he gestured for me to take a seat in the chair across from his desk. Adrenaline still coursed through me, but it was ebbing, just a bit. Brad perched on the edge of the desk instead of taking a seat in his chair.
He stared down at me and said, “Care to tell me why you were about to make a scene out there?”
“Where’s Flynn?”
“Business trip out of town,” he replied casually.
I raised my eyebrows. Flynn had left my bed just that morning, and now he was gone. Again. And he hadn’t told me. Again.
Fool. I was a raging fool. When would I realize that actions spoke louder than words? He could say he wanted to check in with me, but when it came down to it, he didn’t.
“Does this have to do with Chelsea?” I asked.
“No. Something else unrelated. Are you okay?”
“Fine,” I stated.
