Oh, good grief.
“Interference on Leland? He won’t be in the way? What are you two talking about!?” And just like that, the man who could effortlessly make Jason’s death look like anindisputable accident was staring him down, neck vein bulging, looking like a lion ready to pounce.
Leland stalked up to Jason and stabbed his finger into Jason’s chest. “This may be your mission, per Eric, but no one is sidelining me! I may be old enough to be this child’s grandfather,” he threw a hand toward Rowan, who groaned like the adolescent he was, “but I have more experience than all of you—”
“Hold on, Leland.” Jason held up a hand and pushed Leland’s finger off his chest. “No one is sidelining you. Are you kidding me? We need you. I know that.”
Leland steeled his eyes at Knox. “Then what was all that about? That ‘I’ll run interference for Leland. He won’t be in the way,’ huh? What wasthat?”
Knox took a deep breath. And Jason knew that look. He knew what Knox was about to say before he opened his mouth. Jason covered his eyes with his hand as if he could keep the inevitable from happening.
“Leland,” Knox said. “I was just assuring Jason that if he wanted to make a pass at your niece, that I would do my best to keep you from killing him. That’s all.”
Jason slid his hand down just past his eyes to meet Leland’s pointed gaze. He was half-afraid Leland wouldn’t believe Knox. And half-afraid he would.
“Boys,” they all turned to Tayla’s voice, “shouldn’t we be going? It’s eight o’clock.”
She heard the conversation. No doubt about it. Jason could see it all over her face. But she didn’t seem mortified. Or angry. Should he say something? Like what?
She directed a brief look of warning to Leland, smiled at Knox, and finally looked at Jason. “Are you ready?”
“Of course.” He turned to Rowan. “Keep a sharp eye on those cameras.” He pointed to the computer screens.
“I know. I got it.”
They headed out without another word. Jason tried to convince himself the silence wasn’t awkward. Walking to the elevators, all he could think about was that this was his most surreal mission to date. And that was saying something.
“Tayla!”
Of course. The very first person she saw as they entered the ballroom would be Chance Chesson. Two-time Oscar winner and two-time Tony winner. And one of the kindest people she knew. He was also the loudest person she knew.
“Tayla! Tayla! Tayla!” He rushed over and gave her a surprisingly graceful hug—considering he carried a full glass of champagne in each hand. Didn’t spill a drop. The man had all kinds of talent.
“Oh Chance, what a wonderful surprise. How are you?”
“Good, good. Oh! Sylvie is just over there. She would love to see you.”
Sylvie Hanes was an extraordinary actress, director, and producer. And frequently in the company of Chance Chesson. The Hollywood rumor mill debated whether or not the relationship was platonic. Tayla was curious too, but it wasn’t anyone’s business. Perhaps that’s why they chose to vacation on the enchanting andprivateIsadora Island. Paparazzi never stepped foot on Isadora Island—that was one of Alec Drakos’ guarantees to his guests. She wasn’t sure how he could promise that, but she probably didn’t want to know.
“Of course, I would love to see Sylvie.” She turned to Jason. If she didn’t introduce him to Chance right now, itwould be noticeably rude. But she wasn’t sure exactly how . . . No time to think.
“Chance, this is Jason.” She linked her arm through his, praying he was okay with how she was handling this. “We met yesterday. Isn’t this island divine?”
Chance’s eyes lit up. “Hello, Jason.” He transferred the drink in his right hand to his left. And, defying the laws of physics, he held two brimming flutes of champagne in his left hand while shaking Jason’s hand with his right—without losing a drop. Talent.
The men exchanged pleasantries. Then Sylvie appeared, and they repeated the whole exchange. Tayla didn’t want to get pulled into a long conversation, so she was relieved when the band started playing a song Chance insisted he and Sylvie “simply must dance to.”
The couple dashed away and Tayla wondered if Chance would dance holding the champagne flutes. She almost wanted to watch that. But she needed to focus. She needed to talk to Jason. Privately.
“Let’s check out the view on the veranda,” she said.
“After you.” He stepped to the side.
The veranda stretched the length of the ballroom with several sets of glass doors welcoming guests to flow between the outdoor moonlit vista and the indoor festivities.
Tayla walked to the edge of the veranda, out of earshot of a few guests enjoying the nighttime view of the ocean.
She faced Jason to spill out her concerns. And her heart skipped a beat.
