Page 44 of Cozen

That’s what Jett had been doing?

Plying information from her all night?

“What do you want me to do with that information?” Sargon asked.

“I have a busy couple of weeks. I will give you the name of my contacts who pull information for me, and you can call this in for me, and handle it. I want you to get information on the woman. Whatever you can find, bring it to me.”

Sargon cleared his throat, and his gaze drifted in the direction Cozen had left. “What, do you not trust her, or something?”

“I don’t trust anyone,” Jett muttered, chuckling. “But no, mostly, I like her. And so, I have to know about her.”

“Like her,” Sargon echoed.

“She’s fascinating.”

To say the least …

Sargon stayed a few paces behind Jett and Cozen as the two took a stroll down Fifth Avenue. He was far enough behind them that he couldn’t hear their conversation, yet still close enough that he could step in should he need to.

Cozen kept her hand tucked into Jett’s arm as he pointed at a statue they passed, and she laughed.

For the nearly three weeks that Sargon had worked for Jett, he did not know the man to casually take walks in the middle of the city. He much preferred to be chauffeured to and from wherever he was going.

Personal preference.

Safety, too.

Sargon was lost to his thoughts, and starting to wish he was anywhere but there, when a ringing phone brought him back to reality with a bang. He damn near slammed into Jett and Cozen before he realized the two had stopped walking.

It only took a quick look from Jett for Sargon to put the distance back between them once more, but not the same amount as before. He could now hear what Jett was saying on the phone, and it sounded like this date was going to be cut short.

Thank God for small miracles.

“Right now?” Jett asked.

Cozen passed a look to Sargon—questioning. He only shrugged, and looked across the street to give the two some semblance of privacy.

Not that it mattered.

“Really, Silas?” Jett snapped.

Silas—Jett’s oldest son—was a lot like his father in many ways. In too deep with bad people, and distrustful of everyone around him. Sargon spent less than ten minutes in the man’s presence, and wished it had been less.

Some people just had that effect on others.

“Fine, yes,” Jett said after a few seconds, “I will be there in thirty minutes. No, no … tell him to stay where he is. I will handle it. I told you not to put your opinion in on this. That deal is going to be a big one for us.”

Jett wasted no time hanging up on his oldest son, and Sargon brought his attention back to his boss for the moment.

“I’m sorry,” Jett told Cozen, “but this is where I have to say goodbye for the night.”

Cozen frowned.

It was genuine—or it looked like it.

In her eyes, though, Sargon swore he saw relief.

Or was he wishing to see that?