The server left.
“Brigit hasn’t been Brigit her entire life, has she?”
“How would I know? I just met her—”
“Cut the bullshit, Marjorie.” He arched a brow. “Everythinghinges on teamwork.”
Marjorie looked away. The silence hung heavy for a long moment. “Since you think you know, why ask me?”
“To get you to tell me I’m wrong. To fill in the missing pieces. To confirm what I’ve deduced. Hell, I need some damn answers. Is she Eve Francesco?”
She cast her gaze squarely on him. “Yes, she is.”
“Why’d she change her identity?”
“That I don’t know. After Brigit—Eve’s—parents were killed, she dropped out of grad school to attend the trial. Somehow the drunk driver got off, scot-free. During the trial, I tried to reach her about your interest in Francesco, but she never returned my calls or emails. She just vanished.” Marjorie swiveled to face him. “That photo on my desk—”
“Brigit. Her artwork is plastered all over your wall. Clearly, you two were close.”
She nodded. “I loved her like she was my own. Still do. I almost had a stroke when she waltzed into Francesco as your wealth manager. She never told me why she’d changed her identity and her looks. The past is the past for a reason, right? She was an adorable child and a pretty young woman, but she’s a raving beauty now.”
“I’m quite aware of how attractive she is.” He shot her a hard stare. “Can we stay on track?”
Marjorie lifted a pack of cigarettes from her handbag, removed one, and tapped it on her palm. “Ever since you took Francesco public, she’s been hoarding that stock. She’s Spider Holdings.”
Colton’s eyes widened.
“Uh-huh,” Marjorie said. “Our girl has the lion’s share with twenty-two percent.” Marjorie leaned close and he got a whiff of tobacco breath. “You might want to redirect that raging inferno rolling off you. She told me—and I quote—‘Wilson Montgomery cannot get his grubby hands on my company.’” Marjorie stood. “I need a smoke.”
“Not yet. We’re not finished.”
Her eyebrows shot up.
He patted her chair. “Sit down.”
She leaned her backside against the table and looked over her shoulder at him. “The Francesco Company was all that child knew. Her parents were obsessed about grooming her to run it. They taught her to analyze spreadsheets in the first grade. She was smart, but they pushed her, hard. They wanted her to excel, in everything. I loved them dearly, but they bordered on insane when it came to their daughter. They limited her playtime with her dolls. They kept playdates short and focused. She didn’t take regular piano lessons. She studied with a master and was required to practice two hours daily. Reading poetry wasn’t enough. She was expected to write it.” Marjorie shook her head. “Eve was the sweetest little girl. I felt sorry there wasn’t a sibling or even a dog to relieve some of the pressure.”
“The man who shot her sounded like he was getting revenge.” Colton shrugged. “You think you know someone and then this shit happens.”
“You do know her. She encouraged—no, sheinsistedyou take the company private. She’s losing Francesco all over again. That’s gotta be killing her.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Marjorie’s jaw ticked. “Tell you what? And how would betraying her help any of us? I lost her once. Wasn’t about to push her away. You’re both fighting for the same thing. Who she was and who she is—I’m not sure that matters in light of what we’re up against.”
His phone buzzed with an incoming text and he lifted it from his pocket.
She grabbed her purse. “Back in five. Going to smoke myself to death, which at the moment is tempting.”
“Are you staying here?” he asked.
“Absolutely. With snow in the forecast, I checked in hours ago.” She took off toward the lobby.
The text was from Chad.Brigit released from hospital. Stitched and ready to fly. Headed to Dulles.Sprouting the rumblings of a major fucking headache, Colton’s temples throbbed.
The server delivered their drinks and Colton took a long pull of whiskey. He had enough information to get him through the meeting. There was only one person who could fill in the blanks, but first, little Miss Francesco needed to get her ass to Columbus.
Five o’clock in themorning.Colton rang the front desk, again.
