Gil was rendered temporarily mute by Morris’s declaration.
“That’s what I thought.” Morris clapped him on the back. “I’m not saying you’re wrong about the ex. He sounds sketchy. I’ll dosome digging. But no one’s ever gonna believe you aren’t biased. Not when it comes to this.”
What was he supposed to say to that? Thanks? You’re right? Shut up? All he wanted was to get out of this conversation. Away from Morris. Away from everyone.
Except Ivy.
“Go on.” Morris was flat-out laughing now. “Find our girl. Make sure she’s okay. Maybe hold off on telling her you have to name your firstborn after me. Might be too soon.”
Morris was still chuckling when he left Gil standing in the hall outside the interrogation room.
Now what?
26
IVY OPENED HER EYES and straightened in the chair. How long had she been asleep?
Her hand went to her mouth and encountered a little bit of wet at the corners. Her heart rate spiked. Had she drooled on Tessa’s squashy chair? She ran her hand over the fabric. Dry. She’d woken up before she slobbered on the furniture. Well, there was one thing that went right today.
She leaned forward and rested her head in her left hand. Her entire right arm throbbed. She hadn’t had any pain meds, prescription or over the counter, all day, and that had been a mistake. Huge.
But after she lost it on Gil, she was so discombobulated, she forgot to take them. Then she was in full-blown pitch mode and forgot again. Then she got caught in a shooting in the middle of a hotel lobby, and no one could be expected to remember anything after an experience like that.
Right?
She lifted her shoulders, dropped them, and repeated the movement until some of the stiffness left. As she worked her shoulders, she listened to the murmurs from the kitchen. She could make out four voices. Luke, Zane, Tessa, and Faith.
But not Gil. If he was in there, he wasn’t making a sound.
Her bag was at her feet. She rummaged through it until she found her phone. Sixteen text messages from colleagues at work, all asking how the pitch went and if she’d already left the hotel before the gunman shot up the place. The answer to the first was simple. The pitch went great. They had an excellent chance of winning the grant, and not because the lead researcher wanted her to go out with him.
The answer to the second was more complicated. She doubted her new friends would be thrilled if she spread it around that she’d been in the building but they had hurried her out the door. Not that anyone would fault her for leaving the scene of an active shooter situation. Given the option, most people would get out of there.
Lord, why is this so hard? I want to make people’s lives better. I want to help, and I want to do a good job, and I don’t want to be afraid all the time. Will I ever not be afraid again?
Although, if she was honest, at the moment she wasn’t afraid for herself. At least not that she would get shot or blown up. She was afraid to face Gil, and that wasn’t anyone’s fault. Well, except Gil’s. Mostly Gil, and a little bit her. She was still frustrated with his high-handed treatment. That was over. Period. End of discussion.
But the yelling. Her skin flamed at the memory.
“You’re awake.” Tessa came around the low corner. “How’s the arm? Need some meds?”
Zane must have told Tessa he’d grabbed her arm. “Zane isn’t still worried, is he?”
Tessa lifted her hands in a “what can you do?” gesture.
“I’m fine. I think I’d rather wait and take the strong stuff before bed.”
Faith joined them and sat on the sofa across from her. “Where do you want to go tonight? Back home?”
“Do I have a choice?” Ivy wasn’t trying to be a brat, but she hadn’t had much choice about anything since Friday night.
Faith and Tessa shared a look. The kind of look that told her Gil had spilled the tea. Faith dove into the fray. “Gil made it clear that you were to be free to decide where you sleep and who is with you.”
Tessa made a pitiful effort to fight a smile but lost the battle. “You made your point, Ivy. And you aren’t wrong. But”—she glanced at Faith, then back to Ivy—“Gil’s intentions were good. He’s protective of everyone he cares about. He can’t help it. It’s who he is. I’m not saying his feelings for you are similar to his feelings for me, or Faith, but he’s protective of us. He’s also protective of Zane and Luke. And he’s crazy protective of Emily. Not that he should have taken over your life and started running it. But I’m just saying that if you can’t handle a protective guy, then you aren’t going to be able to handle Gil.”
Faith nodded her agreement. “At all.”
“I don’t mind protective.” Why was she whispering? She cleared her throat. “But there’s a difference between protective and smothering.”
