“You’re welcome.” He has the nerve to sound sincere.
Just what I need right now.
I fling open my door, making him choke. The next instant he’s by my side, looking murderous, as I stride toward the small building.
The inside of the building doesn’t match the outside. It’s ranch standard from the front, but behind the door is a state-of-the-art office. There’s even a smiling woman to greet me.
“I’m Mae! Come on in. Grayson said you’d be showin’ up.”
Probably Stone’s doing.
Or Caleb. Given that my brother is all up in the middle of everything even though he’s on the other side of the world.
“Here I am,” I say, barely sounding civil.
A cup of cold water is shoved into my hand. “Have a seat. I’ll tell him you’re waitin’, hang tight.”
Maybe I look hot. Or mad.
Or both.
Stone, being the granite column he usually is, stands by the door. Hands folded in front of his lap again, still wearing his sunglasses.
Good damned grief.
“Ms. Allison,” a deep male voice reaches me before I realize a tall man is watching from the open doorway to myleft. He fits the bill. Scowly like all the other men in my life these days.
Well, I’m scowly too. My anger is simmering when I stand and walk toward him. “Appreciate you seeing me.”
He nods toward a large leather chair—made for accommodating large men, I suspect. It’s angled in front of a spotless wooden desk that’s big enough to hold a table setting for six.
Gray takes his place behind the desk. Solemn, with cold eyes and a hard angle to his jawline.
Before I can say anything, he speaks. “I want to start by telling you that your brother is one of my favorite people.”
Oh.This disarms me for a half a second.
“He’s one of my favorite too, when he’s not meddling in my business. But thank you for telling me that.”
“What brings you here today, Ms. Allison?”
Sitting straight, I get to the point. “I need to know what’s going on.”
His left brow goes up, but that’s his only physical reaction as he watches me like I might be a grenade with a pulled pin.
“With?” he asks cautiously.
“My security detail,” I say, forcing my tone neutral. “The case. All of it.”
Gray glances at Stone and back to me. “Why do I feel like this is a trick question?”
I lean forward, slightly, blinking at Gray.
“Technically it wasn’t a question. It was a demand. And I’m sure you’re aware that there was a sudden change in my protective detail. Given that you’re the kind of man who runs a tight ship—who would know every nuance about every client’s case—I’m sure you have answers.”
There’s a subtle twitch to his mustache.
The receptionist’s tapping on her keyboard in the lobby is the only sound for at least 60 seconds.
