His executive assistant, Jennifer’s, voice came through the intercom. “Mr. Sullivan, your 11:30 with Harrington Tech is ready in Conference Room B.”
“On my way,” he responded, straightening his tie.
He had an empire to run and a locksmith to check in with. Both would have to wait their turn.
The meeting had run long, as Harrington meetings always did, but he’d managed to slip away by 1:30. Kane’s deep voice came through Archer’s helmet speaker as he navigated through midday traffic on his Ducati. “The locks have been changed.”
“Any complications?” Archer asked, taking a hard right toward the waterfront. He wasn’t heading anywhere in particular—just needed to feel the rumble of the engine, the lean of the bike as he carved through the winding streets.
“Negative. Standard installation, all access points secured. Changed the main door, balcony door, and added a security bar for good measure.”
“And Morgan?” The question slipped out before he could consider how it sounded.
There was a brief pause on the line. “She seemed stressed. Kept checking her phone and working on her laptop while supervising the installation. Mentioned something about a client presentation.”
Archer frowned behind his visor. “Was anyone else there? Any sign of the ex?”
“No visitors. But..." Kane hesitated.
“Get out with it.”
A low chuckle came through the speaker. “She asked about you.”
Archer’s hands tightened incrementally on the handlebars. “What about me?”
“How we knew each other. How long. Whether you were always so mysterious.”
Damn. He should have briefed Kane better. “And your response?”
“I kept it vague. Said we’d worked together for years, that you valued privacy, and that you had a habit of helping people who needed it.”
Archer nodded, even though Kane couldn’t see him. It was close enough to the truth without revealing anything important.
“She also said something interesting when I was finishing up,” Kane continued. “Said her company was having problems with their security systems, and that her boss was looking into new vendors.”
Archer slowed at a light, his strategic mind immediately shifting gears. “What company?”
“Vertex Creative. Boutique marketing firm that’s rising in the ranks. They’ve got multiple locations in a few different states. About four hundred employees. Been around for almost sixty years.”
Archer filed the information away, another piece of the puzzle that was Morgan. “Interesting.”
“She mentioned the management’s been ‘running it into the ground,’ direct quote.”
The light changed, and Archer accelerated perhaps more aggressively than necessary. Interesting. Very interesting.
“Anything else I should know?”
Kane cleared his throat. “Just one thing. When I was leaving, she asked if I could pass along a message to you.”
Archer braced himself. “Go on.”
“She said, ‘Tell him thank you, but now I owe him dinner. My treat, his choice.’”
Something warm and unexpected bloomed in Archer’s chest. He tamped it down immediately. Getting involved with Morgan would be unwise for a multitude of reasons, not least of which was that she had no idea who he really was.
Yet he heard himself asking, “What did you tell her?”
“That I’d pass along the message.”
