How old was this kid? Seth was thirty-two, so logically his son shouldn’t be older than thirteen or so. But another scan of the teenager told her he definitely was.
With a backpack over one shoulder and a bulging duffel dangling from his fist, the young man stared back, his eyes almost accusing as he swept the office.
“Holy shit,” River muttered, seemingly frozen in place.
The teenager’s gaze peeled from her as he dropped his luggage on the floor with a thud and glowered at Seth’s junior PI. “I need to see Seth Cooper. Now.”
His voice stunned Heavenly all over again. It was so shockingly like Seth’s—timbre, inflection, even accent.
“Um…he isn’t here,” Heavenly replied, proud that her voice sounded steadier than she felt. “What’s your name? Maybe I can help.”
His eyes narrowed, his expression laced with barely controlled fury. “When will he be back?”
She darted another glance at River, not quite sure what to say.
“I’ll…ask Beck if he knows.” River shot Heavenly a meaningful look as he pulled out his cell phone and dashed off a text.
Good idea. He should know about this shocking development. What were they going to do? Say? Seth wouldn’t be home for almost twenty-four hours.
“Who’s Beck? And who the hell are you?” The teenager demanded.
“I’m River. I work with Seth.” Before he could say more, his phone dinged in response. He glanced down to read the reply, leaving Heavenly the sole focus of the kid who wore Seth’s face like an accusation.
The more she looked at him, the more she knew her suspicions were right. She saw Seth in the way the stranger held his shoulders, straight and proud. In the stubborn set of his jaw, which she’d seen on Seth countless times. Even the way he scanned the room, taking in every detail with sharp, assessing eyes.
All pure Seth.
“I didn’t catch your name.”
The teen scowled at her, eyes flashing with suspicion. “You his secretary or something?”
Panic fluttered in her chest. She had no roadmap for handling this situation. But if the kid wasn’t even willing to tell her his name, she refused to divulge Seth’s secrets—especially given his attitude.
“No, I’m just helping out today,” she said finally. “But if you’ll tell me who you are, I can help find him.”
“Fine. I’m Hudson. When can you get him here?”
Since the truth would only make him angrier, she groped for an answer that might pacify him.
“Hey, don’t grill her. She’s just trying to help,” River snapped. “I’m working on it.”
Heavenly was grateful for his intervention. “Would you like something to drink while you wait? A soda or water?”
Grudgingly, Hudson accepted a bottle of water. She grabbed it from the small refrigerator, then watched him ease onto the leather couch, perched on the edge as if ready to bolt. In the background, River’s phone dinged once. Twice.
Their unexpected visitor fixed on the stairway, as if expecting Seth to materialize at any moment. The tension radiating from his tall, lanky frame was palpable.
Heavenly tried to guess his age. Fifteen? Sixteen? Where had he come from? Based on his accent, somewhere back east. Where was his mother? And why did he look so ready to burn the world down?
His gaze shifted, and he studied her with the same sharp intensity, though his voice softened. “What’s your name?”
“Heavenly.” She lowered herself onto the chair across from him, trying to appear nonthreatening and approachable.
Finally, something besides anger flickered across his features. “That’s…fitting.”
Was he…hitting on her?
“That’s enough,” River growled.
