It’ll be beautiful, that much I’m sure of.
Another ping. I laugh lightly, expecting a funny line from Toby or some saucy remark from Asher, whose wonderfully dirty mind works 24/7 solely to entice me. But it’s not any of the Morgan brothers.
The number is blocked, but I open it.
Stay away from the Morgan brothers or pay the price.
I drop the phone on my desk, startling Jamie as he walks back into my office.
“Whoa,” he says. “What’s wrong?”
“Read that…” I manage and hand him the phone.
I look out the window. It seems quiet on my side of the city. Traffic flows smoothly below. People the size of ants rush left and right. Across the street, I catch glimpses of the neighboring offices. I see folks in smart shirts and dark slacks, carrying their laptops from one work station to another.
It all looks normal, but there are eyes watching me, even if I can’t see them.
“Who the hell sent this?” Jamie asks, downright outraged.
“I honestly don’t know. But someone has my personal number, and they’re using it to threaten me.”
Jamie sits on the edge of the desk; his brow furrowed with concern. “Someone who knows about you and the Morgan men.”
“We were at the cabaret show on Friday. Maybe someone saw us there. Maybe they recognized Cole, Asher, and Toby. I have no idea. It’s weird.”
“It’s also worrying. We’ve got enough to deal with. You should alert the police, Will.”
I give Jamie a confused look. “They’re not going to do anything about it. It barely qualifies as a cybercrime.”
“Tell the brothers, then.”
“No,” I reply and shake my head. “No way.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’ve got this good thing going. It’s the one good thing to come out of this whole disaster with Terrence, because we both know the wedding itself will be a nightmare, and because it’s just a text message.”
Jamie gives me a pleading look. “Now isn’t the time for you to turn into a warrior queen.”
“I’m not being a… whatever. I’m just thinking clearly. If the messages continue, if at any given moment, I feel unsafe, I will definitely tell the guys, and I will call the police. But until then, it’s just a text. It could be nothing, just some jealous chick trying to get a rise out of me.”
Doubt lingers in the back of my mind, but I stick to my guns. That message could be a fluke. I may never get another one. And if I do, I’ll do something about it. In the meantime, we’ve got bigger and richer fish to fry. Jamie nods likehe sort of agrees and holds up his iPad for me to read one of the emails he got a few minutes ago.
“Fantastic. The Mixologist has agreed to handle the bar, and they also sent a preliminary menu with a winter theme. Damn, they’re fast. No wonder they’re so popular,” I conclude.
By the end of the day, we’ve got a couple more confirmations and meetings set up for the next day. The planning stage is moving along nicely, and I can only hope we’ll keep the momentum going until we deliver the dream winter wonderland wedding for my ex and his bride.
As I step out of the office building and into the dark limo Cole sent to pick me up, I instinctively look both ways.
Wondering.
Looking for those eyes.
But there’s nothing, just winter darkness, people heading home, red taillights on cars leaving the city, an me on my way to another hot date with the Morgan brothers.
6
COLE
