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“Thank you,” she says. “I love what I do and,” she looks between me and Grayson, “I hope you don’t mind that I’m here. I work sidebar, so to speak, for Reese on a regular basis.”
“Two for one,” Grayson replies. “As long as I don’t end up in your column.”
“Oh no,” Cat replies quickly. “I’d never write about you unless you wanted me to write about you and even then, I’d still have to feel good about it. I don’t write what people want me to write. I write what I feel passionate about.”
Reese laughs. “We met when she was following one of my cases in her column. Even then, she was challenging me, and scolding me when I didn’t think out of the box.”
Grayson squeezes my hand under the table and says, “I understand that completely, which is why I’m happy to have Mia joining our corporate team.”
My heart warms with the words that I’d once have been too insecure to accept as sincere but not anymore. It’s amazing what a year can change.
“Reese thinks out of the box on his own just fine,” Cat replies. “But getting him to fold the laundry is another story.”
We all laugh and the waitress arrives. We order drinks and bread. When she’s gone, Reese gets to the point. “Blake told me everything and holy hell, man. I don’t even know where to start. Knowing your operation’s been infiltrated, I understand why you want outside counsel. And this three-month payoff deadline to bring you down that Ri set-up with this underground group—I’m back to holy hell, man. Three months living under a threat with an enemy potentially in every office is rough.”
Grayson releases my hand and reaches for the whiskey the waitress sets in front of him. “From Blake,” she offers, and eyes Reese. “He said you and Cat have court. He’ll owe you.” She glances at me. “And you don’t handle your whiskey well.”
We all laugh. “He’s not wrong.”
Grayson lifts his glass at Blake and sips before he dives back into the conversation. “My biggest concern is one of those enemies being planted with the Feds or in the DA’s office.”
“I’d like to say I don’t believe that could happen,” Reese replies, “but I’ve seen enough, and been around enough, to know that it can. The FBI and the DA need to be working with Blake’s team to take down your attackers. I suggest we set-up a meeting and get everyone on the same page, then ask for you and Mia to be given immunity.”
Grayson hands me his drink and I take a sip. “Grayson talked about doing an sit-down interview to shut down the press obsession, something in-depth.”
“God no,” Cat objects. “You think a sit-down interview will be controlled, even scripted with pre-approved questions, but they’ll go off script. The press are monsters, but that’s why I’m here. If you decide to go public, which my gut says you should not, use me. And believe me, when we heard about this situation, we talked about me helping with my column in some way.”
“Before we explain that idea,” Reese replies, “the bad actors don’t know you know they exist, correct?”
“They do not,” Grayson confirms.
“Then as far as they’re concerned,” Reese continues, “they can move about and plot against you freely. In theory, that allows Blake to watch them and catch them.”
“Except we’re dealing with an advanced hacking operation,” Grayson counters. “Blake’s good at what he does, but this breach is apparently widespread across operations and states.”
“So if we expose the underground operation in my column,” Cat says, “we might scare them off and that would let them know we’re onto them, but that idea comes with negatives.”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I mean, when Grayson suggested doing an interview, it was more about answering questions about my attack and just getting the fascination with us and me over with. If we actually expose this plot, it doesn’t necessarily get rid of the bad eggs. In fact, it might encourage them to stay to avoid notice. A rapid departure might indicate guilt, but I suppose at least it suppresses any bad actors.”
Cat sighs. “Yes. That could happen. It’s a ridiculous catch twenty-two situation. In which case, you end up with all these dirty eggs rotting away inside your operation.”
“No to exposing the plot to take me down,” Grayson says, his tone steel. “That could come with consequences.”
Reese narrows his eyes on him. “You’re afraid they’ll act hard and fast before you shut them down.”
“And decisively,” he says, and I know Grayson. I don’t even have to ask what that means. He’s afraid they’ll act against me. He’s afraid the hired hacks will succeed where Ri failed and kill me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Mia
Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed.
The room fades to white noise as I remember Grayson talking about eloping. I know him and understand his urgency. This man seems to have the world—money, power, friendship and more, afraid of nothing except losing someone else he loves, and that means me. How did I ever think this man cheated on me? How? I’m such an idiot. Neither of us has dealt fully with Ri’s attack. For me, I’ve consciously, and perhaps to more of an extreme, unconsciously, used his fear to suppress Ri’s attack for both our sanity, but unbidden, I’m back there now. I fight it, I do, but I lose. I’m there. Living that hell all over again.
