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I thought about the last time she’d left, how she’d blindsided me.
I couldn’t go through that again—the surprise of it, the shock, how bad it hurt.
“Are you leaving me again?” The question tumbled out before I could control myself. I had to know.
Chloe took a step back. “What? No! Of course not. Bryce—”
“Let’s go.” I took her by the arm and headed for the SUV.
“Don’t you have to get back to your meeting?”
“They can wait.” I didn’t look at her as I maneuvered her into the back seat. “Take us home, please.”
I whipped out my phone and texted my assistant.Tell them I had to deal with a staffing issue at home and that I’ll be back. And make sure they have plenty to eat! Send in some wine and some bourbon,I added as an afterthought. We would need to keep working for a few more hours. If they could relax a little, it would help. Maybe they’d drink so much they wouldn’t notice I was gone.
Regina Hernandez wasn’t going to be happy, but heading off another potential disaster with my wife would be better than more drama.
The driver slipped into the light traffic, taking a right onto Federal Street and heading back through the city toward Beacon Hill.
“Dale called me earlier,” I said.
“Oh?” Chloe didn’t look at me. She seemed transfixed by the city lights flying by. “What’s going on with him?”
My stomach flipped.You’re lying, Chloe.“Why don’t you tell me, huh?”
She sighed. “Why did you bring it up?”
“No reason.” She wasn’t offering anything, so I had to show her my cards. “But then I called the head of security and had a chat with him.”
Chloe froze.
“He mentioned something about Daphne.”
She whipped her head at me. “What? What about her?”
I shrugged.
“Bryce, tell me!” Her voice rose. “Tell me now!”
“Not until you tell me what you’re afraid of.”
“Please.” She grabbed my hands. Her eyes were suddenly bright with unshed tears. “What did he say about Daphne?”
“She called security tonight.”
“Fuck! Oh my god.” Chloe whipped out her phone. Hands shaking, she scrolled through her contacts.
“Can you close the privacy screen, please?” she asked the driver.
She found Daphne’s number, and as she was about to click it, she turned to me. “You are about to hear some shit. This could be the beginning of something bad. You need to know that.”
“You’re going to have to explain yourself—”
“I will, but you’ll have to hold on.” She didn’t wait for me to answer, she just made the call.
I sat back, stymied, as I watched her.
“Daphne? I need to talk to you. Get your maid’s phone and call me right back.” She hung up, clutching her phone, waiting for it to ring. “Okay, I need you to go into one of the guest bathrooms and lock the door. Make sure no one follows you.”
