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“Well, it doesn’t matter, does it? They won’t give me a deal.”
“Look,” I say, “if you take a deal or if you’re convicted, the family will likely sue for your inheritance.”
“I don’t want it. I have my interior design business. I can make my own money.”
“They’ll sue for your daughter’s inheritance.”
“Can they do that?”
“They can. They will.”
She’s silent a moment. “I should have run away and hidden years ago, but I didn’t want to do that to my daughter. And he wasn’t a man to let me run away. He would have found me. What next?”
“Here’s what I want us to do. I met with Reese Summer today. He’s well-respected. He wins. He’s ethical. I want to bring him in as part of your team. Google him. You’ll understand why.”
“I know who he is. I considered talking to him before you, but I really wanted a woman and when I met you, I was sold. This wouldn’t change you being on my team, right?”
“Not at all. This just offers you extra support, but he needs to believe in you how I do. He wants to meet tomorrow morning. Early. He’s got a trial going on right now.” I don’t tell her we’ll have to push back the trial. I want Reese to win her over first. “Can you do it?”
“Yes. I’ll be there.” I give her the address and directions with the help of the bartender.
“Got it,” she says. “Mia, thank you.”
“Thank me by staying strong.”
We disconnect and I return to the table as Reese is standing to leave. “She’ll be here,” I say quickly. “And I’ve reconsidered. I think a partnership works.”
Reese smiles. “I thought you might and I’m glad you did.”
He and I shake on our agreement. He and Grayson shake on their agreement. Cat and I hug. “You two are going to be magic together. I feel it.”
I’m smiling when they depart and Grayson leans in and murmurs, “We’re magic together.”
I turn and wrap my arms around him. “You’re my magic, Grayson Bennett.” I kiss his jaw. “Can we go home now?”
“Yes, baby,” he says, his voice thick with a low, raspy, affected quality. “Let’s go home.”
His arm slides around me and he sets us in motion, and I’m more relaxed than I have been since our return. That is until I find the tall, dark, and lethal-looking familiar man waiting for us at the door. Adrian is here and he’s here because we still require bodyguards. We’re still in danger.
“Hiya, Mama Mia,” he greets, and I do laugh. He’s a funny guy who I sense has a lot more to him than good looks and jokes, like killer instincts. And those killer instincts are both nerve-wracking and comforting at the same time.
“Driver’s waiting on us,” he says, motioning us toward the front door. “His name is Will. If you need him just call out, ‘Danger, Danger Will Robinson.’ His name is actually Will Axe, and that isn’t a joke. We call him The Axe.” He jumps right to another topic, with whiplash quickness. “Are we headed to the hotel?”
“Our apartment,” Grayson says. “We’ll need to get our bags—”
“We’ll pack ‘em up and load ‘em up for you, if you wish,” he offers.
Grayson confirms with me and then gives the go-ahead. Adrian motions us forward. “Willy-boy awaits.” And from there, he keeps talking, and by the time we load into the Escalade, Grayson is shaking his head and laughing. “He’s a character.”
“Yes,” I say, smiling. “He is.”
The driver eyes me from the front seat. “Welcome. I’m Axe.”
I laugh. “The Axe?”
He grunts. “In case you didn’t notice. Adrian talks too much. Just Axe is fine.”
Adrian climbs into the vehicle and leans around his seat to eye us. “Axe me anything you like.”
I laugh and Grayson just shakes his head. Adrian grins and turns forward. “Home we go.”
Home.
That word slides under my skin and nestles deep into my soul. It affects me emotionally on so many levels. Butterflies erupt in my belly. We’re going home. I’m going home. My eyes meet Grayson’s and warmth spreads between us. “Home,” I murmur.
“Home,” he repeats, tenderly stroking my cheek. “And it’s been too long.”
“Yes, it has,” I murmur.
Grayson slides his arm around me and I snuggle in close to him. We don’t speak for the short ride. We just sit there, together. And considering not so long ago, we didn’t believe we’d be together again, it’s a pretty darn perfect way to spend a ride. We’ve just turned onto our street when Grayson’s cellphone rings. He shifts and grabs his phone, glancing at the caller ID.
“Eric,” he informs me before he answers.
He greets Eric and then listens and while there is no outward reaction to whatever Eric says, the air shifts, thickens, his mood darkening. “Blake has a team for that.”
He listens again and then says, “Right. Understood.” He disconnects.
