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I had to think.
Was I a selfish bastard for wanting Sophia the way I did?
Halfway down the hall, I noticed a packed conference room with a group of people standing around a table, looking at something in front of them as they compared various pieces of tiles, fabrics, and papers.
Slowing to look closer, I jerked to a stop as a body slammed into me.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching—” The woman trailed off.
I narrowed my gaze as I recognized her.
Henrietta Stanford.
She wore a very conservative business suit, completely opposite in style to the high-fashion outfit she wore to the club.
“Damon, I’m surprised to see you here.”
“Why is that? This is development under Pierce Construction.”
“I assumed you would be with Sophia, considering you don’t seem to leave her side, and she is doing a very high-profile photoshoot today.”
“What would you know about her shoot?”
She pursed her lips. “I’m in the business. I have ways of knowing things happening in the industry.”
“Then why are you here, working in your former capacity?”
“I never turn down loyal clients who request work from me.” She lifted her chin as if I’d offended her, but I caught her glance at someone in the conference room and gave them some silent communication.
“Wouldn’t being on Randolph Senior’s payroll prevent you from pursuing other projects.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about.”
Of course, she hadn’t a clue. Too bad, my private investigator understood the necessity of gathering every piece of information possible on a person via any means available.
And she’d discovered that Papa Randolph wanted a choke chain on everyone who worked with his son before his death.
The old man continued running the playbook he used when Keith Randolph engaged in his first assault. He bought people out.
In this case, it was to spin a story of an artist lost too early. The people who used to spend time with Keith Randolph now lived mortgage-, rent-, or debt-free for the tradeoff of spreading stories of his accolades.
“I thought you’d remember mentioning Randolph at the club. You defended him with a passion that went beyond acquaintances or business colleagues. And”—I paused—“you made a point to go after Sophia about hearsay. It seemed as if you had an agenda.”
“I only stated rumors and wanted clarification.”
“If that was how you gain clarification, I wonder how you spread gossip.”
“I don’t need to gossip when the truth is much easier to discuss.”
I took a step in her direction. “What do you mean by that?”
“You can’t be serious. Everyone knows the open secret about your precious Sophia Morelli.”
Rage, unlike anything I’d ever felt, boiled up inside me. Instead of allowing it to show, I kept my face in its standard emotionless mask.
“Open secret? I believe I’m in the dark about many things.”
She patted my arm in a gesture of sympathy and familiarity we had never had before. “Lovers shouldn’t keep secrets from each other.”
