Her stomach dropped. His tone had changed. “My grandfather, Pierce Stone, founded and ran Stone Investigations for almost forty years. I have a college degree in criminal justice and have worked here for a decade. I’ll include references with my proposal.”
“Is Mr. Stone here?”
“Unfortunately, he passed away in February.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Craig rose. “Sure, send over those references along with your proposal.”
As she pushed out of her seat, her cheeks heated. This wasn’t the first time she’d been overlooked because she was a woman-owned business or because she was running her own investigative firm. Sometimes she hated how the world worked.
After showing him the door and watching her opportunity vanish down the hallway, she shook her head at Desiree. Back at her desk, she reviewed the agency’s financials one more time while fiddling with her stackable rings. If things don’t turn around, I’ll have to let Desiree go. That’s gonna suck.
The door chime rang. Maybe Craig changed his mind.
“Hey!” Desiree called out from reception. “I thought your kind only ventured out after sundown.”
Sinclair’s deep chuckle filled the office. “Hey, sis. Carly here?”
In addition to being one of her closest friends, Sinclair Develin was Desiree’s brother. Not by blood, but by the strong bonds of family he had with the Hott clan.
Grateful for the distraction, Carly rolled into reception.
Sinclair’s embrace was tighter than usual and, when he released her, the lines around his eyes were etched deep. He was every woman’s dream, except Carly’s. Carly’s heart had been captured decades ago. While she could appreciate Sinclair’s intense blue eyes, luscious dark hair, and that devilish smile, he’d always been the brother she never had.
In all the years she’d known him, Sinclair had never dropped by unannounced and he never went anywhere without an agenda. Laser-focused, he was a Washington power player, known as The Fixer. His business prowess and connections had opened doors for her professionally, but her history with him dated back to middle school, when he was Ashton Hott’s biggest rival turned adopted brother.
“Ash has been shot.”
The air got sucked out of Carly’s lungs and she clutched her chest. Desiree’s guttural scream made her jump.
“Ohmygod, ohmygod, what happened? Is he okay? Where is he?” Desiree’s sentences blurred together as she flew around the reception counter.
Sinclair stopped her with his body, wrapping her in his massive arms while she clung to him. “He’s in a Frankfurt, Germany hospital. He’s going to be fine. No worries.”
Towering over her, Sinclair locked gazes with Carly. His usual calculated, controlled confidence had yielded to alarm. Ashton was worse than Sinclair was letting on. For Desiree’s sake.
Desiree broke away. “When are we leaving?”
“I’m flying out today,” Sinclair said. “Dad’s meeting me at Dulles.”
Desiree grabbed her handbag. “Let’s go.”
Sinclair stopped her, his large hands cemented on her shoulders. “Dad wants Carly to fly out first.”
No way am I getting in the middle of this. Carly threw her hands up. “Family first.”
“Dad’s—Warren’s—instructions were explicit. You, Colton, and I accompany him.”
As Desiree’s cheeks pinked, she flicked her gaze between them. “So, what? I’m the B team?”
Sinclair raised his thick eyebrows. “Desiree, Dad wants to ensure the first visit is chill.” Intensity shone in his eyes. “You can get…well, sometimes you get…er…emotional.”
“Oh, that is such a load of—” Then, Desiree eyed Carly. “I’m sorry. I’m being selfish.”
“Can you clear your schedule?” Sinclair asked Carly.
Before she could answer, Desiree blurted, “I’ll handle everything. You go. Ash would want you there.”
“When I bring Carly and Colton back, I’ll fly you and Hudson out,” Sinclair said. “Crockett, too.”
