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My brother casts me a helpless stare, like a teacher who knows their student will do whatever they’re set to do no matter how much advice has been given.
Then a text message arrives from Blake. “Hey, I’ve gotta go.”
Rob gets up and pats my shoulder. “Well, good to have you back, brother. But don’t let me lose you.”
“No. You won’t.”
My last breakup almost killed my spirit. Although I kept it airtight inside me, my big brother knew. To say that I was distracted at work because of it is an understatement. I was useless. But one good thing happened during that spirit-breaking period. A miracle. Separate from my struggle, my brother found the love of his life, Amber-Rose, who is now his wife and the mother of his child—soon children.
I hope this is my time, although no doubt it’s going to be a turbulent flight.
Simon Blake is already waiting inside my office, donning a country look with his navy cotton shirt and chinos. Far from the notorious description of Alaskan men, ‘the odds are good, but the goods are odd,’ the former trooper is a dark, entrancing guy who proves that a man can have it all—brawn, brain, moves and mental toughness.
Back in his twenties, he was apparently scouted by a well-known modeling agency. Lucky for us, he shunned the promise of glitz and glamor. Now, the private investigator has worked exclusively for Hartley Marine for almost a decade. His job description is pretty loose. As long as something needs investigating, be it business or personal, he’s our man.
Despite his sharp face and toned physique, the guy has mastered the art of not standing out in the crowd. He’s a chameleon, always looking the part, whether in a tuxedo or a t-shirt and jeans, blending in with a crowd of high-flying socialites or street criminals.
“What have you got?”
“Isabella Martin.” He swipes an envelope across to me.
I open it. The first thing that comes out of it is a photo.
My knees go weak.
Look at her and her magnificent eyes. She’s wearing a green dress, plunging at the front, tight everywhere else. The background indicates the photo was taken at a hospital fundraising event.
“Twenty-nine years old, born in Rio. She immigrated to the US with her parents just before she turned five and spent most of her adult life in New York. She now lives in Los Angeles, working as a pediatric nurse in the UCLA Children’s hospital, and also a second-year student at the university’s med school.”
“Criminal records?”
“She’s clean.”
“What’s her tie with Fletcher?”
“Now, that’s where things get interesting.”
That makes my gut twist.
Blake explains, “It goes back to her parents. Her father got into trouble with a Brazilian mob. He leaked information to the authorities after a couple of boys were murdered. Guilty conscience, I guess.”
This is bad news. Right now, my conscience tries to weigh in with my decision to pursue her. There’s a fine line between the past and the present. If I want Isabella in my life, her whole timeline will tangle with mine—no exception. Am I prepared?
Blake surveys me. He knows what I’m thinking.
“Go on,” I urge.
“He was a brilliant computer scientist, but nobody could protect him in his own country—nobody even tried. Fletcher senior got to know him prior to the debacle. In fact, Isabella’s mother was a capable programmer too. So they were like Fletcher Tech’s golden geese. Senior helped the family immigrate to the US. Illegally at first, but eventually the whole family were naturalized.”
“So you think Isabella is paying his father’s debt?”
“Maybe. Or she may simply be in love with Donovan Fletcher.”
I growl under my throat. What does he know? I refuse to entertain his provocation, so I continue. “Is that Brazilian mob still at large?”
“He’s in jail for life, no parole.”
“Where are her parents now?”
