Page 56 of Disavowed

“I’ll bet you are.”

“Bite me.” Just before he ended the call, Gray’s laughter came through loud and clear.

At the intersection, Dom braked for a red light. Tomorrow was Saturday, and they were all working at the shop. He needed to get more information out of Jack.

The light turned green, and he proceeded west in the direction of his loft. He had to figure out who the target of this hit was. And fast. Without that critical piece of intel it would be nearly impossible to prevent the target from being taken down. And then there was Smith. Didn’t have to be a detective to know the guy was seriously bad news. The bastard’s temper seemed to be constantly lit, just waiting for something to set him off. He had no doubt both Smith and Jack would pull the trigger on anyone if ordered by the voice on the phone.

The voice on the phone.

He slowed at the entrance to his building’s underground parking garage. Dismantling the Pyramid would be a helluva lot easier if he could prove who was running the organization. He thought he knew the identity of the boss, but the voice on the phone threw him. Even his D.C. contact had no current intel on Marsden, nothing he could use to back up his theory.

Minutes later, he parked the car and let himself inside his loft. He grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, then went to his office and powered up the bank of computers and monitors. While he waited, he took a long slug from the bottle.

Jack had said this job was personal for the boss, so the key was in finding out exactly what that personal connection was. When the first computer came fully online, he set the beer down, and for the next two hours ran search after search on Colonel Bud Marsden. But nothing screamed out at him as to why New York City, the Piazza, or any link to the numerous high-level politicians and celebrities attending the hotel’s grand reopening.

To all outward appearances, the man disappeared in Afghanistan sixteen years ago and was never heard from again. He was single, never married, no apparent family ties to anyone, and the man’s bank accounts were never accessed.

He tapped his fingers on the desk, annoyed that he couldn’t hone in on the personal link driving this operation. Before shutting down for the night, he sent another encrypted email to his D.C. contact. Probably a waste of time, but since he was shit outta luck on everything else, what the hell?

After falling into bed, his last thought before drifting off was about Daisy and what her mood would be like tomorrow.

Fuck that.

Just because Jack hadn’t spent the night at her place didn’t mean they hadn’t made plans for a second date. He yanked the pillow from beneath his head and threw it against the wall. It was obvious Jack was pissed when he’d left Daisy’s apartment, but if the two of them were all over each other tomorrow, he didn’t know if he could handle it.

Chapter Fifteen

As she walked the two blocks between her favorite café and the shop, Daisy found herself glancing over her shoulder more than once. It had become a habit since that morning when she could swear she was being watched. Since then, the feeling had come over her several times, but whenever she turned around there was no one there.

Shake it off. You’ve got enough to worry about as it is. Like seeing Jack again after last night. When he’d left her place he’d been angry, but she’d needed to take things slowly.

Even in three-inch heels she managed to balance the tray carrying four cups of coffee in one hand and open the door without spilling a drop. The overhead bell jangled as she stepped inside, and she expected to be greeted by Marjie, but the front of the shop was empty.

She noted the twenty or so centerpiece arrangements destined for the Piazza’s ballroom covered every surface in the shop. From the looks of them, Marjie had done an outstanding job making them precisely to Daisy’s design specifications. So much had gone into the selection of flowers and vases. Pale peach roses, white delphiniums, and magnolias made a lovely creamy palette. As soon as she put the finishing touches on them they’d be ready for delivery.

“Marjie?” When no one answered, she frowned. While it was too early for regular customers, the bell should have sent Marjie to the front of the shop to check anyway.

She set the tray of coffees onto the display counter, then stopped by her office to hang up her trench coat and shoulder bag. Voices and a woman’s laughter drifted into the office from the storeroom, and she headed down the hallway to investigate.

Marjie leaned her shoulder against the doorway as she watched Dom and Jack heft spare granite planters off to the side.

“What are you doing out here?” Daisy whispered. The older woman had always told her the dusty storeroom made her sneeze.

Marjie winked, whispering back, “Enjoying the man candy.”

“Ahh.” She smiled, pausing to take in the view herself.

Both men wore jeans, work boots, and snug knit shirts with the sleeves shoved to their elbows. Jack’s shirt was black, while Dom’s was navy blue. But it was Dom’s physique that drew Daisy’s attention. His thick forearm muscles flexed, and she caught the shimmer of sweat on his skin. Beneath the knit top’s sleeves, his biceps bulged thickly.

“Daisy?”

“Huh?”

Marjie was staring at her, sporting a mischievous grin.

“I was thanking you for hiring these two beautiful men.” She nodded to Dom and Jack. “You have excellent taste.”

She laughed. “I do, don’t I?”