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“I told you to cooperate.”
My attorney shrugs. “I knew you would be here any second. It didn’t seem right to let them destroy a perfectly good safe.”
I clap him on the shoulder. “I understand. But we’ve got nothing to hide, so there’s little sense getting in their way.”
When they’re done dumping out the contents of my desk, I sit at it and wait. I’m not entirely sure why I’m here, but I asked for Matteo’s direction, and he gave it, so I’m following it. In our respective families, there is a clear chain of command. When the four of us teamed up and moved to Vegas, that chain wasn’t as clear. But Matteo emerged as the obvious leader and became the de facto boss of our little clan. It’s never been questioned. Matteo is the boss, Victor is the muscle, Owen is the security and tech wizard, and me? I guess you could say I’m the driver. Though I do team up with Bellamy on the business side of things for keeping the books.
“Go to the office and check on Clara,” I tell Isaiah after an hour. “She’s probably more freaked out than we are. Tell her to call me on the land line so we can go over my schedule now that I’m back in town.”
My phone is staying firmly in my pocket. It’s a burner and heavily encrypted, so if they demand it, I’ll hand it over. But it would just be best if they didn’t even get their hands on it, so I don’t have to involve Owen. I’m trying to keep Zara under wraps, and I’ve got her contact info in there.
When my landline rings a half hour later, I answer it.
“You really want to talk business at a time like this?” she cries.
I chuckle. “Calm yourself. It’s better for us to carry on. Now they’ve yanked my hard drive so I can’t see anything, but surely you can walk me through what’s happening this week.”
“You have a meeting with Amalia Hartley this afternoon at two. She wants to discuss adding some party limos to their weekend contract with us. And someone from MGM contacted us. They’re looking to bring in another contract for VIP transportation and want to see what we can offer. I told them we would schedule something later this week. And Matteo slipped me a resume for a driver. Some woman named Jeanie. He said it might help you make things right with Skylar. I didn’t ask.”
Now why didn’t I think of that before. It’s brilliant. Jeanie is the driver Matteo fired before he tasked Donovan with driving Skylar around. Needless to say, Skylar was not happy about it.
“Call her and schedule an interview. I’ll conduct it myself.”
“You never interview drivers.”
“I’m making an exception. Set it up.”
She agrees and we move on to the rest of the agenda. The company practically runs itself, but I still enjoy being hands on. And occasionally when a really high-profile client comes in, I do drive. I don’t wear the uniform though.
It’s almost noon before the FBI leaves with many boxes and a seven-page receipt. I’m not sure what they think they’ll find, but I’m confident everything will come back clean.
They did take my phone, but Owen already scrambled it, and they can’t force me to unlock it. They’ll ask, but I’ll hold out until Owen says it’s clear. Even if they have to arrest me for obstructing an investigation. But I know they won’t until they’ve tried to unlock it themselves.
Now I have to head to the Pink Sapphire for my appointment with Amalia. I’m hoping to arrive in time to check on Zara.
At the resort, I make my way to the elevator that will take me to her. I’ve never been excited to get home to someone before. And my brain screams at me that I need to stop getting so attached to this woman. But I can’t help myself, and I grin as I swipe the card that grants me access to the penthouse floor.
Chapter 12
Zara
AfterLukeleftthismorning, I felt lost, so I threw myself into a workout, had a shower, and now I’m setting up my new laptop. And it’s brand new too. Owen didn’t just give me something he had lying around.
I’m focused on setting up my favorite bookmarks so I can easily run my business when the door opens.
Luke’s enormous frame fills the doorway, and I can’t help the way my heart skips a beat as he glares at me.
But not in a way that says he’s angry at me. He’s clearly had a hard day and my first instinct is to ask how I can make it better. But he stalks toward me and pulls me up out of my chair before I can say anything.
When his mouth crashes to mine, I snake my arms around his neck and let him take the control he seems to crave.
“I was worried you might try to sneak off knowing what you do,” he says when he pulls away.
I shrug. “You’re still my best plan. And I like the way you kiss me, so I guess I’ll stay.”
He lets out a long, slow laugh and looks down at my outfit. “Do you always look perfect?”
“I doubt I looked that great after my work-out.”
