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Savannah had been dialing as she’d begun her explanation. Now she spoke to the person who’d answered. “Aunt Stacy,” Savannah said into the phone. “I was wondering if Lori is still there with Dylan?” She paused and her entire body slumped with relief. “No, that’s fine. I wasn’t expecting him to be gone. Lori didn’t say anything about heading over there.” A pause. “Oh, he did? No, he didn’t say anything to me about it.”
Fury rose in Trent while he waited for her to finish chatting with her aunt. The part of him that wasn’t plotting his father’s downfall admired Savannah’s ability to remain calm and think under pressure.
“No need to mention I called,” Savannah was saying, her voice showing no stress at all. “I’ll be by in a bit.”
When she disconnected the call, she sank onto the bed and put her face in her hands. Her body shook as she gasped in a ragged breath. Trent put his hand on her shoulder. She jerked away as if burned. Her blue eyes were hot as she gazed up into his face. But as quickly as her temper flared, she calmed down.
“Sorry. That wasn’t directed at you.” She waved her hand in a random gesture. “Lori took Dylan over to Siggy’s.”
“Without saying anything to you or asking if it was okay?”
“He told her he’d cleared it with me.” She rose, her movements stiff and slow as if every muscle in her body ached. “I guess I messed with him so he messed with me.”
“I should have anticipated something like this.”
“Neither of us
had any way of knowing.” Her neutral tone was at odds with the fear and anger she’d demonstrated moments earlier. “I’m sorry to ask for another favor, but do you mind driving me over there? It looks as if Lori helped herself to my car.”
“Whatever you need.”
Five minutes later, they were back in the LA traffic. Savannah’s fierce demeanor invited no conversation. Trent kept his focus on the road. The drive to his father’s house took over an hour. It was a tense sixty minutes. He couldn’t imagine what she was going through, the panic she must have felt coming back to the hotel and finding her son gone, the roller coaster of emotions when she figured out the nanny had taken Dylan to his grandfather.
Trent wanted to be there when she faced down Siggy, but when they pulled up to the enormous Beverly Hills mansion, she shook her head when he shut off the car.
“I need to do this on my own.”
“Are you sure that’s your best option? My father will try to bully you.”
“He’s gone too far this time.”
“Call me when you’re on your way back to the hotel.” Everything in him was clamoring to accompany her into the mansion and act as her champion. “I need to know you’re okay.”
“I’m going to be just fine.”
“Regardless. Call me.”
With a nod, Savannah got out of the car and Trent stared at the mansion’s front door long after she was lost from view.
Five
Savannah’s heels clicked against the travertine tile of the wide entryway as she let herself into Siggy’s mansion. The earlier heat of anger had been replaced by icy determination. Ever since she’d come to live in this house at age eleven, she’d been intimidated by the man who lived here. She’d seen how he criticized his sons, dominated his staff and intimidated his business associates.
But today he’d stopped being someone to fear. Today, he’d interfered with her son, and she would do whatever it took to make sure that never happened again.
Set on a half-acre lot, the modern house had a wide-open floor plan that was perfect for entertaining. As a child, Savannah had witnessed hundreds of parties, and when she was old enough, she’d served at many.
The backyard had enough space for a large pool with a broad black-and-white marble surround, a pool house and a separate outdoor dining area for twelve beside an expansive fire feature.
Although the house was fifteen thousand square feet, there were only six bedrooms, and the way the public spaces opened onto each other, it was easy for her to find Siggy and Dylan in the main living room.
Lori was the first one to catch sight of her. Siggy was on the phone near the middle set of French doors that opened onto the backyard, his back to her. Dylan toddled along the espresso-toned hardwood floors that flowed into the dining room. Savannah made straight for him and snatched him into her arms. Pausing for a brief second to hug him and breathe in his familiar scent, she then turned to her babysitter.
“Give me my car keys and get out of here before I have you arrested.”
The girl backed away from Savannah’s advance, obviously terrified. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” she protested. “He asked me to come by with the baby. He said it was okay. He told me you knew.”
“I don’t care what he said. I hired you. You only answer to me.” Savannah felt no remorse at scaring the girl after what she’d done. She put her hand out and stared daggers at Lori until she put the car keys in Savannah’s palm.
