Three days later
“MIKE, THERE’Sa Benito Benzo here to see you.”
“I’ll be right out,” I told the front desk attendant and hung up my private line. I strode out of my office wearing a T-shirt, Puma track jacket, jeans, and black patent Jordans. I was that kind of boss—a dressed-down one.
“Mr. Benzo,” I said, greeting the small man wearing an Armani suit in my lobby.
“Mr. Wind.” He offered his hand and I took it.
“Mike, please.” Mr. Wind was my dad, and while he’d been both supportive and civil lately, I was my own man.
“Then Benito, I insist.”
“Let’s go back to my office. You brought something for me?” I cocked an eyebrow at his case and he nodded. Apparently, he was the best at what he did.
I led him back to my office and tossed my jacket over my chair, leaving my tattoo on full display as I pointed to the table. “Let’s set up over here.”
Benito set his case down and opened it. When the bright sunlight hit its contents, it set the room ablaze.
“Nice,” I said.
“All of these are top quality and clarity, like you asked, and all are platinum set. I also brought a sizable selection mixed with different-colored stones as you requested.”
Lynx had said yes, but it didn’t mean that I wasn’t going to get her a ring. I could afford the best, and that was what she was going to receive.
In my mind, the ring had to have some color—something warm and bright like her true heart. I gravitated toward a large emerald-cut diamond flanked by two yellow diamonds, bold like the sun, emanating warmth like the big ball in the sky.
A while back, Lynx had mentioned she was tinged, colored with something bad or some such shit. I hated hearing it. No fucking way was I letting her live the rest of her life feeling that way.
“This one,” I said, tapping a finger on it.
“Good choice.”
Benito packed up his case while I wrote him a check with a lot of zeroes.
“Nice doing business with you,” he said as I walked him to the front entrance. “Send anyone my way.”
ICAMEhome to a dark condo. “Lynx?” I called out, looking at my phone.
It was after seven. After meeting with Benito and then showing the ring to Lisa, I had to head up a marketing meeting. I’d capped off the day dealing with a shitstorm over by the hot tub—a very angry wife had caught her husband vacationing with her best friend.
In all the excitement of the afternoon, I hadn’t texted with Lynx.
She had plans to meet her therapist and then head to lunch with Sammy today. Lynx was supposed to be picking up some of her sister’s pieces to sell in the hotel’s boutique, and show Sammy the latest pages of her book.
Overwhelmed with the book and busy helping me, she’d put her degree on hold again, pushing her classes to the side. “I’ve learned more in the last few years than most do in a lifetime,” she told me.
Considering the options where she could be, I tossed my track jacket and T-shirt in the hamper, changed into a pair of jeans with holes worn in the knees, and made my way to the bar. In my mind, if Lynx got home soon, maybe we’d stay in.
It wasn’t until I was screwing the top off the Jack that a shiver swept over me. I didn’t like that she wasn’t home, hadn’t called or texted. Trying to tamp down my caveman instincts, I grabbed my phone and shot her off a text just as a call came in.
My stomach sank when I saw the call was from Landon.
“Talk to me,” I demanded. “Where’s Lynx? She was supposed to meet Sammy, and now she’s not here.”
“Listen, Mike, I’m in my car, heading to get you, and then we’ll talk.”
“No fucking way. Spill it.” I paced the dark apartment, finally leaning my forehead against the window.
