“Cole,” the man corrected as he motioned them to the couch. “Please have a seat. Can we offer you something to drink? Water? Tea? Something stronger?”
“Water, please.” Cass took a seat on the closest couch, leaving room for Grayson to take the spot next to her.
“Same for me, please.” Grayson sat and rested his ankle on his knee.
“Why don’t I grab those for us?” Without losing Cole’s arm, Dana set her wineglass on the coffee table and picked up his half-filled tumbler. When she straightened, she turned in to Cole and brushed her free hand over his chest. “Did you want a refresh?”
“Please.” He touched his lips to the top of her head and let her go. “Thank you.”
She gave him a smile and made her way to the kitchen. Cass watched her move past the stove and to the nook near the back wall. Dana set the tumbler on the inset counter and opened the cabinet above, the door hiding her from view. When Grayson squeezed Cass’s shoulder gently in warning, she turned back to the conversation.
Cole had taken a seat at the end of the second couch, facing them, his attention on Cass. “You had questions for me?”
She hoped her smile wasn’t as shaky as she felt as she rubbed her hands down her thighs. Between the day’s events and the auditory warning, she was feeling decidedly off-balance. That warning—had it been about Cole? Dana? Or a sign of something coming?
She set the questions aside and started to pick her way through the murky unknown. “I understand you talked to my mother earlier today.”
He nodded. “I did.”
When he didn’t elaborate, she pushed. “May I ask what you spoke about?”
Cole cocked his head, his pleasant demeanor replaced by a steady, considering gaze. “For the last week, Burton Entertainment has been in the midst of some complex negotiations on a new venture.”
Considering who Cole was, Cass wasn’t surprised her mother would be the one to act as his negotiation strategist. “I’m assuming Pythia was providing advice on how to maneuver successfully through these negotiations.”
“Yes.” His fingers began to tap on his knee. “Early this morning, Dana was informed our potential partners were grappling with some concerns. In order to mitigate those concerns, I required Pythia’s input. Hence my call to Rhea.”
It sounded legit, but it didn’t fit. There had to be more than simple business involved. She took a chance and pressed harder. “And that was all you spoke about? The contract negotiation?”
Cole’s gaze sharpened. “Yes.”
Frustration bloomed, so she switched gears. “During your conversation with my mother, did anything happen?”
Cole’s fingers stilled, and he frowned. “Like what?”
“Did she cut the call short? Was she interrupted?” Grayson covered her hand, and only then did she realize she’d been nervously plucking at her pants.
“No.” Cole’s eyes flickered to Grayson’s hand on her thigh then came back to her. Whatever he saw on her face had him leaning forward, his forearms braced on his knees. “Why? What’s going on?”
She searched his face, hoping to spot a sign that she was being played. When all that stared back was genuine concern, she looked at Grayson. He, too, was studying Cole intently. When he turned to her, he squeezed her hand, dipped his chin, then let her go.
Okay, so I’m not missing anything.
Reassured, she took a steadying breath. “At some point this afternoon, my father was attacked, and my mother is now missing.”
There was a gasp from Dana, who had paused halfway into the living room, holding a tray with two tall smoked glasses and one whiskey tumbler, her mouth opened in a small o of shock.
Cole’s back went straight, and his face turned hard. “Attacked? By whom?”
“We don’t know,” Grayson answered.
“Oh my gods, is your father okay?” Dana came the rest of the way in, set down the tray on the table, and handed out the drinks.
“He’s stable for now,” Cass said, taking one of the tall glasses.
Dana turned to hand the second glass to Grayson. “That’s a relief.” She straightened, shot Cass a look, and turned away.
Cass, who had her glass halfway to her mouth, paused and narrowed her eyes. What was that?
