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There I was, sitting beside the two blonde babes who were Misha's and mine for the night, and all I could think of in that moment was that my blonde, Lila, was a pale substitute for Celia.
When I saw Celia, I couldn't help but think that she was going to screw everything up. Not only would she make me want her all over again, but she might make a scene and talk about Graham in front of Misha. I wanted him to think I was a tough sonofabitch who didn't let anything upset me.
I had to send her away.
"Tell her I'm busy. Tell her to call Amanda at the gym if she has any business to discuss."
Kirk returned to where Celia stood with my other bodyguard, Phil. I could tell she wasn't happy with my message.
Then, much to everyone's surprise, she slipped around Kirk and Phil.
"Hunter!"
&nb
sp; Before she could get to me, Phil had her in his arms, stopping her a few feet from where we sat.
"Sorry, Mr. Saint," Phil said, Celia's arms in his.
"Jesus Christ," I muttered. I stood and buttoned my suit jacket before leaning down to Lila.
"Excuse me for a moment," I said, trying my best to sound impatient. "I have a matter to attend to."
I went to where Phil held Celia, controlling my emotions with a few deep breaths.
"Hunter, I need to talk to you," Celia said, her eyes searching out mine. "It's about Graham."
I sighed heavily and theatrically. "What makes you think I care about anything to do with you and your family?"
"Graham asked me to come and speak with you," she said. "Can we go somewhere private?"
"Graham thinks he can send you to me like some kind of peace offering?" I replied, playing dumb for the moment. "I'm not biting. Now, I'm busy." I motioned to Phil. "Take her outside."
"Hunter, please!" Celia said, her voice breaking, tears in her eyes. "Graham's in the hospital. I need to talk to you in private."
I met her gaze, finally, and had to decide what to do. I wanted to avoid her at all costs. She was dangerous to me. She could distract me from my mission, and that wasn't going to happen.
I realized she wouldn’t let this go until I spoke with her, so I gestured to Phil.
"Let her go." Then I headed for the rear door that led to the offices. "Follow me."
I led her past the kitchen and down the hallway to the business office.
"Hunter, I'm sorry to bother you but—"
I held out my hand to stop her from talking and went into the darkened office. She hesitated just outside, like she was afraid to come in with me.
"For God's sake, come inside," I said and returned to her, pulling her in.
She stood there, staring into my eyes, and I could see how close to the edge she was. I wondered if it was as hard for her, us being this close, as it was for me.
Then the rational part of my brain cut in and I realized.
No.
She was the one who threw me over. I was the one who had wanted it to continue.
"Quit with the tears," I said, sounding as impatient as possible. "I'm not moved by tears. I don't care if Graham's dying. Why would I care? My brother died right in front of my fucking eyes, Celia, or did you forget that little fact?"
