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I stumbled across a picture of Bethy online when I was searching for anything I could find about Linny. There wasn’t much but an image posted to Linny’s Instagram account four months ago caught my eye.
Linny was standing next to a blonde woman. They had their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders. They looked nothing alike, but their bond was obvious. The tag in the caption took me to Bethy’s page.
She’s attractive, but in my eyes, she doesn’t hold a candle to Linny.
“What about your family?” she asks with a grin. “All I know is that you inherited the business from your granddad. There must be more to your story.”
She has no idea.
My eyes drift over her shoulder.
“You have to be fucking kidding me.”
Her napkin snaps out of her hand and hits the table. “Jesus, West. It was just a question.”
I shake my head, holding my hand in the air. “No, angel. That comment wasn’t for you.”
She glances back over her shoulder. “Isn’t that...”
I drop my napkin on the table and rise to my feet. “That’s my assistant. Something tells me I’m not going to like what she has to say.”
***
After Blythe takes a seat at the table, I scrub my hand over my face. “How did you find me?”
She taps the screen of the phone in her hand. “I put that tracking app back on your phone yesterday.”
Linny smiles. “You track his phone?”
Blythe nods, glancing at me. “He disappears from the office sometimes without leaving word where he’s going. If an emergency pops us, I need to know where he is.”
Confusion mars Linny’s expression. She doesn’t say anything, but I see the question in her eyes. She’s wondering if I abandon work to fuck other women during the day.
I haven’t. Ever. Work has always trumped pleasure, until now.
“You weren’t answering your phone.” Blythe gestures to where my phone is sitting on the table. I turned it off when I got to the bistro to avoid being interrupted. “I wouldn’t have hiked across town if it wasn’t an urgent matter.”
She looks to Linny and I can tell that she’s silently wondering if this conversation should be private.
I have no fucking idea if it should, so I ask.
“What is this about, Blythe?”
She nervously picks at a crumb on the tablecloth. “Trent.”
Linny pushes back from the table. “I need to use the ladies’ room.”
My plan all day was to spend the afternoon inside of her. That’s being shot to hell right now, apparently because Trent has fucked something up.
The temptation to fire him is reaching its breaking point.
I stand when Linny does. “Our meeting for this afternoon is still on.”
Her eyes meet mine. “Hear Blythe out and then we can discuss that.”
Goddammit. I don’t want anything to come between us today.
I drop back into my chair when Linny rounds the corner toward the restrooms. “Spit it out. What the hell is going on with Trent?”
