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“But neither one of you had pulled the trigger. Maybe it was more about how comfortable and easy it was than that you were in love.”
His temper continued to heat. She was the furthest thing from an expert on how he felt.
“You weren’t there.” He’d devoted years to loving Elle. Giving up a future with her hadn’t been easy. “You can’t possibly know how it was between us.”
“Of course not,” she soothed. “I’m simply pointing out that if she’d been your everything you’d have figured out a way to stay together.”
It cut like glass that he considered the merits of her argument for even a second. He and Elle had been devoted to each other for nine years, and he had let her go without much of a fight. Just like he’d been ready to let Scarlett move to L.A. Only this time, he’d come to his senses and asked her to stay. He hadn’t done the same with Elle. She’d been determined to go, asked him to join her, but he’d never requested she turn down the job offer. Had she been waiting for him to?
“From your expression, I’m going to guess something new has crossed your mind,” Scarlett said. “Care to tell me what?”
“You might be right. Maybe what kept us together all through school was that we were traveling the same path.”
“Sometimes that’s the only thing that does keep people together. Giving up your dream so another can live theirs isn’t a sacrifice many are willing to make.”
“When I came in tonight you were dressed up. No matter how dedicated you are to managing this hotel and competing against your sisters to run Fontaine Hotels and Resorts, you are at heart an actress.” He noted the way her lashes flickered at his statement. “Are you sacrificing what you truly want to stay here?”
“I made a choice between two heart’s desires,” she said, her smile cryptic. “And I’m never going to second-guess myself about it.” With a languid stretch she swung her feet to the floor and stood. “I’m going to grab a shower. Want to join me?”
* * *
After an early lunch in her suite, Logan headed to Wolfe Security, leaving Scarlett to wander downstairs to her office in a happy daze. She sat down behind her desk and stared out over the Las Vegas skyline, hoping no big emergencies came up while she was in this state of bliss because she couldn’t count on her problem-solving abilities.
Her cell phone rang at a little after two o’clock, rousing her out of a pleasant memory of the night before. It was Grady.
“Scarlett, I think you are going to want to come down here and see what I found in Tiberius’s files.”
After the theft of documents in her suite, they’d agreed nothing was to leave the secure-documents facility.
“Can you tell me what it is?”
“I’d rather not. You will want to see it for yourself.”
Disturbed by Grady’s caginess, Scarlett grabbed her car keys and headed for the door. “I’m going to MyVault Storage,” she told Sandy as she left. “I’ll be back by four for the senior staff meeting.”
Through most of the half-hour drive she wondered what Grady might have found. The fact that he’d been reluctant to share the information over the phone had been odd. What, was he thinking that someone could be listening in? For an instant all she could see was the man in the ski mask. How easy it would have been to plant listening devices in her suite while she was unconscious. Almost as soon as the thought occurred, she brushed it away. Logan’s paranoia was beginning to rub off on her.
She used her key card and entered the facility. The security guard in the lobby nodded in recognition as she signed in. Cameras watched her from three directions. The security had seemed a little much when she’d first visited the place, but right now she was glad she’d listened to her gut.
Halfway down a long corridor, she stopped in front of a door marked 23. Again she used her key card to gain access. Grady spun around as she entered. She noted his pale complexion and startled gaze and decided he needed to spend a little less time here.
“Have you eaten lunch?” She held up a bag of Chinese food and a six-pack of Diet Mountain Dew, his favorite.
“No. I was going to go grab something before I found this.” He nudged a file toward her and accepted the bag of takeout.
What he showed her was an old photo of a group of teenagers. One of them looked familiar, but she couldn’t place why.
“This is a photo of someone named George Barnes and his buddies.” Grady turned the photo over and showed her the names jotted down on the back. “There’s an old police report from 1969 that mentions George Barnes as well as a few other guys in this photo in connection with some neighborhood burglaries, but nothing was ever solid enough to arrest any of them.”
