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Boom. There it is.
“You only thought you were,” I say, deflecting his unwelcome advice.
Grandma chortles—yes, chortles.
“I’m afraid we can’t engineer Nicholas’ love life like this lovely hotel just by pecking him. So let’s walk and see the progress, or I’m leaving,” she says, patting my hand and mercifully ending my torture.
Ward waves, leading the way into the skeletal building, and we all follow him inside to do some actual work.
* * *
“Why are you so quiet today?” I ask.
Reese’s eyes flick to mine in the rearview mirror. “I didn’t realize I was...”
She goes quiet again.
“Pull over,” I say, after another stretch of silence.
“What?”
“Pull into the next parking lot.”
She doesn’t answer, but we enter the lot of a shopping center not far from my building. It’s late, so it’s mostly vacant.
“Park,” I order.
As soon as she does, I get out and climb into the front passenger seat.
“That’s—” She exhales at my presence. “Different.”
What does that breath mean? Is Paige right?
Forget it. Even if she wanted to fuck you, the price is a wrecking ball.
“Something wrong?” I clip.
“I’m just used to everyone being in the back,” she says.
Against my better judgment, I take her hand. “Sorry. I could tell you’re upset. I wanted to help.”
Her eyes drop to our intertwined hands and then rise to my face.
“I’m not upset. It’s been a long day. I need to get you home and come back to the office to grab Millie.”
“Would you feel better if we searched your sister’s place again? I can help. I have time right now.”
She pulls her hand from my grasp and locks her fingers together in her lap, looking down.
“We’ve been through this before. It’s not your problem.” She shakes her head. “Honestly, it’s probably stupid to think we’d find anything. The place was combed over by investigators...”
“You want one more look. I don’t think it’s a bad idea, and I want you two safe.” The truth is, I need them safe. I can’t handle the idea of something happening to them. “We don’t know what your sister was involved in or what was really going on. And if she’s not talking, we need clues.”
“Why?”
“What was Abby doing the night she got in trouble?”
“...I don’t know,” Reese says, twirling a lock of brunette hair around her fingers anxiously.
“Who was she with?” I ask slowly.
A hot tear slides down her cheek.
“I told you, I don’t know, dammit. I’ve been asking myself the same questions constantly. I tried to pull it out of her repeatedly. Abby thinks she got pulled over for a blown taillight, but I don’t believe it. Especially with the medical record showing someone hit her. There’s more to this than she’s saying. She told me she can’t talk because she thinks she’s protecting me and Millie. From who, from what, I don’t know.”
It hurts like a punch to the jaw to see her so lost.
Hell, if I could just give her answers, I’d take a decade of Roland Birdshit’s incessant torture.
I reach over, using my thumb to wipe the tracks left by the tears off her cheeks.
“I’m sorry, Reese. It’s not over yet.”
Blinking, she heaves out a slow breath.
“I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But you’re Nick Freaking Brandt, the Windy City’s finest.” She uses a fake Queen’s English voice for that last line. “And...I’m Reese Halle. Former orphan and sister of a walking mystery case who’s hopefully not facing life in prison.” Her plain Yankee accent with the occasional drawn-out vowel is back.
“I like Reese Halle’s voice better than that British bullshit,” I say.
She snorts and gives me a faint smile.
“The point is, you’re a billionaire. Your worries exist in another universe. I know you work hard, but you play just as hard. If a reporter ever takes an interest in me, it’ll be because I ran over some famous person and killed them.”
“I’ll post your bail,” I say.
She snorts again. “I know you’re trying to be nice, but Abby’s mess isn’t your problem. You’re the billionaire boss, and I’m just the driver.”
“What do you mean ‘just?’”
“You know what I mean, Nick. I don’t think you should make this your fight. Let me sort it out on my own.”
“I don’t want to interfere. I want to fucking fix it,” I say, reaching for her face, tilting her chin up to look at me with those wide, sparkling gas flames for eyes. “I need to know you’re safe.”
She’s quiet for a minute. “I saw The Chicago Tea today.”
Fuck. This is going nowhere good.
“Hope you at least had a laugh,” I say.
She doesn’t smile. “Those were some pretty racy photos of you and Carmen on the beach...”
“It was years ago, Reese. I don’t know why the jagoff published them today. I wish he wouldn’t have. It’s like he’s determined to wreck me just for fun.”
“You’ve got a Hollywood model slash actress who clearly isn’t over you. I can’t help but wonder why you’re so insistent on taking on my problems. I’m no model. Just a boring girl from Rockford,” she says with a worried look.
