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Chase practically snarls. “I’m going to kill him. What’s his name? Trent from Sacramento, who works for Wells Fargo? Never mind—I’ll find him. Oh, and I’m going with you to your appointment. Don’t try to protest.”
Simone does a double-take. “The hell you are! I don’t fucking know you. You’re not invited.”
“I’ll meet you guys out by Maceo’s SUV.” Chase stalks out of the room, yanking his cell from his leather cut.
Simone looks at us with a horrified expression. “What the hell was that about?”
Maceo smirks, his arm draped around my shoulder. “That, dear sister, was a man who knows what he wants.”
Her expression pinches. “Oh, please.”
Maceo only winks at her. He turns to me and smiles. “Perhaps you want to talk to your sister about how we met. She needs to understand what she’s in for.”
