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I stopped after a few paces and backtracked, leaning against his doorframe while catching eyes with him and then Grayson, who was sitting in front of Holden’s desk. “Yeah?”
“Where the hell have you been? We just checked your office and you weren’t in there, and we called your cell several times and you didn’t answer.”
Holden’s tone was setting off an alarm.
He sounded frazzled, anxious.
Angry.
Things I rarely saw from him.
He was always the more patient, calm voice of the three of us, and that had everything to do with Belle.
What would be causing this?
They couldn’t possibly know what I’d just done to our director of app development and engineering in the elevator since there were no cameras.
The only other thing this could be about was that they suspected Drake and I were dating.
With Grayson being my neighbor, Drake and I had to be sly during a few unexpected situations—the first when Grayson had randomly stopped by my condo one evening to talk about work, and the other when Drake and I had almost crossed paths with him in the elevator after coming back from a night out.
I felt shitty that I was keeping my best friends in the dark. Doing that wasn’t like me at all, but Drake and I just hadn’t agreed to tell them yet.
But knowing Grayson as well as I did, if he thought or questioned whether Drake and I were together, he would have come to me—he wouldn’t be part of a sit-down with Holden.
I adjusted my shoulder against the hard frame and said, “Drake and I were just in the elevator, and it broke down midfloor, and we were stuck in there for about fifteen minutes. There’s no cell service in there—as you know—and the tech just came and rescued us. We just got out a few seconds ago.”
“Are you all right?” Grayson asked.
I nodded.
“And is she?” Holden inquired.
I wiped what was left of her off my face, the coconut so pronounced. “Yeah, she’s fine.”
The two of them glanced at each other.
Holden said, “Come in and shut the door. We need to talk to you.”
The moment I took a seat, Grayson barked, “We have a major fucking problem.”
I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. “What’s going on?”
“This is what’s going on ...” Holden handed me a manila folder.
I opened the top flap, staring at the first sheet of paper. Beneath it were at least ten or fifteen more. As I took in the images, processed the wording, a churning started to move through my stomach.
One that made my hands clench.
One that made my heart fucking pound.
I eventually looked up at them. “This can’t be ... I don’t believe it.”
“But it is,” Holden replied. “And we’re fucked.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Drake
