‘Not at fault.’ Hamish’s tone was grim.
Her ears pricked. ‘Something I can help you with? GB&A is not no-win, no-fee, but we are good.’
‘Nope. Old news, doesn’t need rehashing.’ Hamish tugged his sleeve down. ‘What about next Saturday? Justin’s having a few people over.’
His rejection didn’t guarantee she wouldn’t return to the subject—sometimes prospective clients needed a little more encouragement. But she could play the long game. Well, the medium-game, anyway; she wasn’tthatpatient.
‘Justin? Don’t know him, so I can’t just turn up. It has to be something more public.’
‘You met him at the restaurant the other week,’ Hamish said. Then he grinned. ‘Of course, six-foot-six and built like a tree trunk, he’d be easy to overlook if your attention was … elsewhere. But it’s fine, you can come to his gig as my date.’
Hamish had tickets on himself, yet the cockiness combined with the banter was oddly attractive. ‘I said I was willing to help get the info from Tara, not commit myself to purgatory.’
‘Fair. But you know what comes after purgatory if you do it right?’
She had to think for a moment, then stifled her slightly appalled giggle.Heaven. ‘My nonna would drag you by the ear to the kitchen sink and wash out your mouth for that blasphemy.’
Sam glanced sideways at Dad and Jemma cringed. Her father wasn’t accustomed to seeing her flirt. Hell, no one was.
‘We’re going to Justin’s, too,’ Sam said. ‘It’s a fundraiser for the fire service, so everyone will be there.’
Jemma flicked open the calendar on her phone and groaned. ‘Can’t do. I’ve got a function in the city.’
Dad threw up both hands. ‘I thought you were supposed to give us a heads-up on your obligations?’
‘Well, then, here’s your heads-up.’ Jemma pushed her coffee mug toward Sam as the other woman silently offereda refill. ‘I didn’t mention it for a reason, Pierce. I can’t have you escorting me to every meeting, obligation and function for the foreseeable future.’
‘Yes, you can,’ her father growled. ‘And will. It’s not negotiable, Jemma. Not until either you or the police work out who’s behind this.’
‘Wait—behind what?’ Hamish said.
Jemma grimaced, annoyed that the levity had slipped from their conversation. ‘Nothing much. Just some empty threats.’
‘Not exactly empty,’ Sam interjected, her voice sharper than before. She turned to Hamish. ‘Someone threw a brick through Jemma’s grandparents’ restaurant window.’
‘There’s a vendetta against them?’
‘Sure, it’s the family Mafia connections,’ Jemma tried to joke. ‘Horse’s head in the bed, next.’
‘It was directed at Jemma.’ Dad’s voice was tight with concern.
‘Dad, you make it sound like it was an actual attack. It’s just scare tactics,’ she explained to Hamish, as though it was a common occurrence. ‘Clearly someone I’ve ticked off at some stage.’
‘But it is the reason why Jemma is staying here,’ Sam said, stacking the empty plates. Jemma had noticed that she had a tendency to tidy when she was worried. ‘And it’s why one of us will skip Justin’s party. She’s not going to this function by herself.’
Jemma struggled not to roll her eyes. ‘Sam, I appreciate your concern, but this is just a work dinner, black tie, formal, fancy clients. Posh venue, nothing dangerous.’
‘It’s a shame you and Kain broke up,’ her father remarked.
She swung to face him. ‘I kept his existence secret from Nonna for years because that is exactly the sort of commentI knew to expect from her. Obviously the matchmaking trait is genetic.’
‘Can’t tell you how not interested in your personal life I am,’ Dad said. ‘I only meant that his presence could have been useful at this function.’
‘He did make a great handbag.’
‘Jemma!’
Her father’s reaction was predictable, yet she couldn’t let it slide. ‘Fascinating, isn’t it? Men can parade their trophy wives, but when the shoe is on the other foot, the inequitable power dynamic is suddenly unacceptable. Even for my family, apparently.’
