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“I’m headed down now,” he told Paul when he answered.
“I’ll be at the front.”
When he finished his call, Heath said, “I get you want to get to her. But Chuck told us something else you need to know.”
Terrific.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“The email Elsa’s getting intimidating comms from is the same one we flagged. Your number one stan.”
God fucking dammit.
Hale scowled at him, then, keeping a firm hold on his need to lose his shit, he skirted his desk, and walked out of his office.
Kayla called, “Hale, I’ve got—”
“Sorry, Kayla. Not now. I’m out for the rest of the day.”
He hit the elevator, met Rocco in the lobby, then they hit the car, and since both his and Elsa’s offices were in midtown, he was there in ten minutes.
He was pleased there were only a couple paps snapping shots of him outside Elsa’s office. But even though they’d been back from Cali for a week and a half, his place was still covered in them.
He went in and up.
Hudson was standing outside Elsa’s office door. He gave Hale the universal male, “Dude, brace” look.
Rocco stayed outside with Hudson.
Hale went inside.
Chuck, Zoey, Melissa, Trevor, Elsa’s booker, and Elsa’s new assistant, Amy, were gone, so there was no one in her suite except Elsa, wearing a pale blue dress that skimmed her figure from shoulders to below her knees, patent nude pumps, and a glare.
She looked ludicrously fuckable, which for once didn’t help Hale’s mood.
She was leaning a shoulder against the doorjamb of her office, her arms crossed on her midriff.
He waited until the door closed behind him before he said in a soft warning tone, “Do not be pissed at me.”
“I can handle my own shit,” she returned.
“According to Chuck, you’ve been blowing it off.”
“It comes with the territory. I didn’t think she’d send a dead animal by courier.”
Hale pulled in a sharp breath through his nose.
“I cannotbelieveChuck told you,” she griped.
Hale counted to three, but that was as far as he got before he thundered, “Why the fuck didn’tyoutell me?”
“Calm down, Hale,” she demanded.
“Fuck that, Elsa. The bitch sent you a dead cat.”
“I was going to tell you when I got home.”
“You got a dead cat couriered to you, baby,” he said caustically. “Your man considers that appropriate news to interrupt his day and share, oh, I don’t know,the minute you found out someone sent you a dead cat.”
