“How does that help?” I snapped quietly. “Sorry I violated your privacy, but don’t worry—I’m famous?”
“It might explain why you need discretion. Why we’re here at all.”
I shook my head. “No. That makes it worse. Makes it sound like I think being Fraser Kincaid means rules don’t apply to me.”
Dex lifted an eyebrow. “But youdoneed special treatment. That’s the whole point of this setup. Fake company name on the booking. Me posing as the boss. All of it.”
“That’s different,” I said, standing because I couldn’t stay still with this argument in my chest. “That’s protection.”
“For you,” Dex said.
“For her too,” I shot back. “Because I’m sure she doesn’t want the attention. Because—” I stopped myself, jaw tight.
Dex studied me a beat longer, then sighed like a man who knew he wasn’t going to win this today. “Fine. But try not to make it worse, yeah?”
“I’ll try,” I said.
He clapped me on the shoulder. “Good man. I’ll go unpack. And let’s not walk in on more people.”
He left before I could respond, the door clicking shut behind him.
Graham.The team’s guy who handles the on-the-ground stuff. Normal bloke on a normal trip to a ranch in Colorado.
Christ, even I didn’t buy it.
My phone buzzed with a text from Olivia:
Rose’s admin person, Denise, is here at the main building with the paperwork. Want me to handle it?
I typed back:
No, I’ll come.
Denise wasin the main house foyer when I walked in. Mid-thirties, glossy smile, hair that looked professionally blown out even in the middle of a ranch. She held a laptop under one arm and a stack of printed papers under the other.
“Ah!” She flashed her smile at me like we’d known each other for years. “I’m Denise. I handle booking, paperwork, waivers, and all the boring stuff Rose pretends she doesn’t care about.”
I paused at the wordpretends,and the way she said Rose’s name. Like she was explaining a child to a substitute teacher.
“I’m Graham. Nice to meet you.”
Denise’s eyes flicked over me, appraising, and her smile widened.
“So,” she said brightly, lowering her voice like we were sharing gossip, “you’re the one who arrived early.”
My stomach dropped.
“I—” I started.
“Don’t worry,” Denise cut in, laughing lightly. “I heard what happened. Rose was… rattled.”
Rattled. That was one word for it.
“I didn’t mean to—” I began again.
Denise waved a hand as if she was dismissing a minor inconvenience. “It’s fine. Rose is just very particular about her privacy. You’ll learn.” She turned slightly and called toward the hallway, “Taylor!”
A man appeared like he’d been waiting behind a door. Late twenties, lean, wearing a hoodie. He carried a small toolkit and his phone was already open to some app screen.
