Then a slightly taller lady than Jade ambled up. Her curly blond hair made a statement, but I knew who she was. We had files on all the Harts, but Maggie Marx was also a TV reporter.
“I’m Maggie, Dillon’s wife.” She held her wine glass, assessing me with curious intent.
I’d never been in the spotlight with so many people excited to meet me or regarding me as though they knew something about me that I didn’t, but I hadn’t been with the ATF long enough for news reporters to recognize me. Yet, the vibe Maggie was throwing my way told me she might have seen me before.
Just to be sure, I asked, “Have we met before? You look familiar.”
“You’ve probably seen me on the news,” Maggie said. “I’m a reporter for WBXC.”
I bobbed my head. “That’s right. Didn’t you report on a gang bust about a month ago?”
“I’m mostly a crime reporter,” Maggie replied.
Fran had dashed off.
“Maggie is up for an award this year,” Jade gushed.
Grace seemed bored with shoptalk. “Isn’t she perfect?”
I felt as though I should twirl around like a model as the knots in my stomach notched tightly. Again, I wasn’t shy. I owned my shit but not at that moment.
Maggie brought the wineglass to her lips. “Grace, careful. You know matchmaking will not go over well with Duke.”
“How can I play matchmaker if he already likes her?” Grace said.
“Very true,” Jade agreed. “Maybe Joy can snuff out Duke’s grumpy style.”
That got a laugh out of me. “Is he always like that?” I might as well join the fray instead of fighting against Grace or maybe lying to myself.
“You have no idea.” Jade rolled her eyes. “Let me take your coat.”
“Can you point me to the bathroom?” I needed a minute to compose myself.
“Follow me,” Jade said.
Shrugging out of my jacket, I had yet to glance around for the elephant in the room. A laugh broke out in my head. Duke wasn’t an elephant, but for fuck’s sake, he sure was the metaphorical animal.
With no Duke in sight, I felt less tense as Jade hung up my coat in the closet on our way into a wide hallway.
“This is a beautiful place,” I said. “I understand Duke used to own it.”
She closed the closet door. “That’s right. You should’ve seen it when he lived here. It was cold and sterile.” She wrinkled her nose. “You know how some men can be with no taste for design.”
“Speaking of Duke, is he here?” I asked as she guided me farther down the hall.
“He and Brian are in Denim’s man cave.” She pointed at the door beside the guest bathroom. “Duke got an urgent phone call. Anyway, once you’re done, you know the way back.”
I tossed a look over my shoulder. “Pretty simple.”
After I closed myself into the bathroom, which was almost as large as my studio apartment, I stood eerily still as I listened for voices. The man cave was on the other side of the shower wall, but I couldn’t hear anything.
I checked myself in the mirror, running my fingers through my hair, breathing in and out.Please let me get through this day.
After giving myself a pep talk, I stepped into the hallway and lingered, admiring the watercolor painting between the man cave and bathroom while attempting to hear Duke and Brian’s conversation.
“I might have a lead on who in our ranks leaked that meeting,” a man with a Spanish accent said in a voice I could barely make out.
I strained to hear more.
