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“I was suggesting it would be an excellent place for Hope to network,” Celeste said.
Noah walked into the room and Rafe scowled. “What the hell is he doing here?”
Celeste splashed milk into her tea before saying, “That’s why I stopped—to let you know the judge had no choice but to also allow Noah’s attendance. I’m afraid your father’s lack of communication has made things difficult.” She took a delicate sip. “The sooner you’re married, the faster this can be sorted out.”
Her words were like a rock dropped into a still pond.
Celeste pushed back her chair and excused herself, but neither Rafe nor Hope said anything. Hope’s face had drained of color and tension crawled through Rafe’s shoulders. When they were alone, he began, “Listen, Hope—”
“Morning, Rafe.”
He bit back a curse when Noah approached, wearing a smug smile.
“I haven’t seen Uncle Theodore, and I arrived last night. No one here reports having seen him either.”
Rather than answering, Rafe countered. “I don’t believe you’ve met Hope Malloy?”
Noah smiled in her direction. “Charmed.” He offered his hand.
Having no option that wouldn’t be rude, Hope accepted. Noah raised her hand and gave it an old-world kiss. Fury, seething and white-hot, ripped through Rafe.
Hope extracted her hand. “Rafe, will you pass the breadbasket, please?” she asked. “There’s a croissant in there, I’m sure.”
He admired her poise as well as the way she’d read him and the situation. “If you’ll excuse us?” Rafe said. “My omelet is getting cold.”
Noah slunk off, and Rafe raised his coffee cup in her direction. “Bravo, Ms. Malloy. You’re a master at the social cut.”
“It was either that or watch you rip out his jugular.”
After breakfast, he said, “I haven’t forgotten that we need to talk.”
“There’s nothing much to say.” She exhaled a deep, shaky breath. “Depending on what time you finish up, I’d like to go home today.”
Fuck. Why were things so out of control? “I’m sure it will be late.”
“That’s fine.”
“Give me some time,” he pleaded. “Give us some time.”
“So I can fall deeper?” She shook her head.
Fury and desperation were a cauldron in his gut. “This is sounding like a goddamn ultimatum.”
“Call it anything you want.” Hope wadded her napkin, then pushed back her chair. Without another word, she left.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Goddamn it.
Rafe surreptitiously extracted the vibrating phone from his pocket. His father’s name filled the screen. After days of the man not answering his phone, he’d called three times in the past fifteen minutes.
“Problem, Rafe?” Noah asked, interrupting something Celeste was saying.
The Titans gathered around the conference table studied Rafe.
“I apologize.” He gave a half smile. “I need to take this call.”
“Something more important than the Zetas?” Noah asked.
Ignoring his cousin, Rafe nodded toward Judge Anderson. “Excuse me, please.”
By the time Rafe was in the hallway, the phone had stopped ringing. He continued to a private alcove to return the call.
His father’s voice was frantic, and Rafe couldn’t make out the words.
“Gone.”
He shook his head. “Slow down, Dad.”
“Lillibet is gone.”
Rafe exhaled. This was why he didn’t do love. “She left you?”
“No. She’s…gone.”
“Can this wait? I’m at the Zeta meeting.” Where you should be.
“Are you listening to me? She’s vanished. I can’t get hold of Celeste. Something has happened to her.”
Rafe dragged a hand through his hair.
“I need you here.”
Which would leave Noah as the Sterling representative.
“I’m”—Theodore’s voice cracked—“losing my mind, Rafe.”
Having no other option, he said, “I’ll be there in a few hours.” By the time he hung up, his father was sobbing.
He returned to the meeting room and signaled to Celeste, who joined him in the hallway. After he explained the situation, she said, “You can take my plane if you’d like to leave yours for Hope. And I’ll make a team available for you, if you’d like it.”
