“I did, and I am enjoying the celebration. It’s been… enlightening. I do have a question, though. What happened to your rule of not mixing business with pleasure? Tristan Whitmore? Seriously? I’m a little surprised you hooked up with a client.”
Cree didn’t like his tone or the disapproving scowl marring his face, but if he had a problem with her and Tristan being together, that was his problem.
“Rules are meant to be broken, and that’s one I broke. Any other questions? Comments?” Her tone was hard and unyielding, and Cree’s invisible claws came out at his mention of Tristan. It wasn’t her fault if Milton couldn’t attract her attention. If he was mad because she never wanted him, oh well. That was his problem too.
Milton didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds, and then he chuckled. “You’re something else, Cree, but I’m not here to give you shit about your… choices. I’m here because there’s something you need to know.” He lifted his cell phone. “Is there somewhere private we can talk?”
“That depends. What are we planning to discuss because discussing my husband is off limits?”
“Well, let’s just say I have information and photos you’re going to want to see.”
After studying him for a minute, curiosity got the best of Cree, and she led him to Nyla’s office. When they entered, she was reminded that her sister’s compact workspace was smaller than Cree’s walk-in closet, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t intend on being in there long.
She propped herself on the edge of the desk and folded her arms across her chest. She didn’t miss the way Milton’s gaze traveled to her breasts, lingered, and then returned to her face.
Struggling not to roll her eyes, she said, “Okay talk. What’s so important that you had to bring it to my attention tonight of all nights?”
Milton cleared his throat. “A couple of hours ago, a friend of mine, another private investigator, told me someone at your firm hired him to follow you.”
Unease crept through Cree, and she slowly pushed away from the desk. “What are you talking about?”
“The only reason I’m even bringing this to your attention is because I consider us friends,” he said as he pulled something up on his phone. “I don’t know what’s going on at the firm, but someone is digging into your life.”
“Who?”
“My contact wouldn’t say who, but he knows I’ve done a lot of work for you, and he gave me a courtesy call. When he turns in his report to his client, it will include photos, as well as information that he’s found on you.”
Milton handed her his phone, and Cree glanced at the screen. As she sifted through photos of her and Tristan, confusion and anger battled within her. Some pictures were from as early as the day she met Tristan at the condo near the lakefront. Others included them leaving the grocery store, kissing outside of a restaurant, and there was even a picture of them as recent as yesterday, standing in front of the commercial building Tristan had just purchased.
What Cree didn’t see were any photos of her and Tristan in Atlanta. That didn’t mean they didn’t exist. The more photos she viewed, cataloging her and her husband’s relationship, the madder she got.
Whoever the PI was, he’d been following her for a while without her knowing, which was disturbing. But why? Why would someone at the firm hire a private investigator to follow her?
As she pondered the question, she thought about her conversations with Warren. Of course, he was the first person to come to mind. She got along well with Felicia Watts, the other partner of the firm, as well as their associate lawyers.
But Warren? From the moment he had questioned the contract she had signed with Tristan, curious about why it was only for six months, he’d been acting strangely around her. Then again, if she was honest, he’d been treating her differently for longer than that. They used to work well together. Yet for the last few months, she felt he was in competition with her. After she’d signed Tristan, the tension between them grew, and he questioned almost everything she did. But why?
As she paced in a small circle, one question after another bombarded her mind. Was Warren planning to use the photos against her somehow? He might know she and Tristan were married. Did he intend to put her on blast with her other clients? Have them questioning her integrity and ethics?
She stopped and looked at Milton. “Why are you giving me a heads-up on this?” she asked as she handed him his phone.
“I told you because we’re friends.”
Cree studied him for a few minutes, searching his eyes, questioning if he was being honest. At first, she wondered why he hadn’t been the one hired to follow her, but she knew why. The people she worked with knew she and Milton were friendly. They wouldn’t have hired him to do their dirty work, knowing there was a chance he’d tell her what was going on.
“I’m serious, Cree. Just because you’ve turned down my advances doesn’t mean I don’t still consider you a friend. There are no hard feelings, and I only brought this to you with good intentions. Oh, and congratulations on your marriage. I’m not sure if I mentioned that.”
“Everything okay in here?”
Cree jerked her head to the open door to find Tristan standing there looking fierce and intimidating. She had momentarily forgotten about the party, even though she could still hear the music and her guests in the distance.
Her husband’s gaze moved from her to Milton and then back to her again before he entered the room like he owned the space. Her heart rate increased. Her pulse pounded in her ear. And her girlie parts sparked with awareness.
He’d always had a visceral effect on her, and now that they were married, her body lit up from the inside out whenever she was in his presence.
When he stopped in front of her, and slid his arm around her waist, Cree didn’t miss the concern in his eyes.
“What’s going on in here? You okay?”
