Page 25 of Grant’s Heat

“Agreed,” he stated. “But yeah, my digging included thorough looks at everyone remotely close to Abbi. I can’t seem to recall anything out of place with Rio, though.”

“She doesn’t talk much about her family,” I confirmed. “Definitely no brothers or sisters who she’s mentioned. Parents are still married. They live back east. Maryland, I think?”

“That sounds familiar. Yeah, Baltimore. That’s where she had the priors. Did you get to the bottom of all that?” He tipped the beer bottle to his lips and took a long pull.

“I guess it was a post-breakup, first-love kind of thing.” I shrugged, expecting he was about to make a big deal over something that really wasn’t. “I mean, we’ve all done stupid things when we were young and brokenhearted, right?” I threw in a chuckle, hoping the mood would stick.

“Grant.”

I looked up from where I was spinning the bottle opener on the countertop. “What?”

“Cut the shit, man. She’s got a serious problem. I never lit so much as a match over pussy, and I’m damn sure you never have either. This isn’t some teenage prank we’re talking about here.”

“You don’t think I realize how fucked up this is?” I said quietly. “But what do you want me to do, Elijah? Walk away from her? I care about her. I’m fucking laying my throat under your boot right now and admitting it to you. I care. About. Her. She’s a married woman, and like a dumbshit, I’ve let myself develop feelings for her.”

My friend’s stare darkened with obvious pity. I wanted to throat-punch him.

Fucking pity.

Shaking my head in disgust, I said, “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t want your pity.”

“Then what do you want here, dude?” He set down his beer, threw his arms up, and began pacing back and forth. “If I tell you to cut and run, you’ll say no. If I tell you to throw your hat in the ring, you’ll say no. If I tell you to go fuck her out of your system with someone from your contacts list, you’ll say no.” He stopped pacing and faced me. “What do you want from me right now? Just tell me. Seeing you like this is getting on my nerves. And honestly? It’s starting to get to me here, too.” He thumped his chest with his fist, and the gesture made me feel like I was suffocating.

I chugged my entire beer and slammed the bottle down onto the counter. “Jesus Christ, what a mess I’ve gotten myself into.”

“Won’t argue that one,” Banks muttered.

“What do I do, man? I’m asking sincerely here.”

Elijah took more steps—this time to circle the kitchen island and grab a second beer for himself. “Maybe…you’ve just got to slowly distance yourself from her.”

“Slowly.” I nodded while echoing it. Then again. Shit, it was like I’d never heard of the word before. Granted, when one was helping Sebastian Shark run a worldwide empire, “slow” wasn’t a concept that got indulged very often.

“Exactly,” Banks reiterated. “So it doesn’t seem like you’re abandoning her, and she has time to adjust to either being by herself more or Sean will start being home at a regular quitting time by then.”

The plan didn’t seem that far out of line. It could seriously work if, like Elijah suggested, I backed off over time.

“Another idea? Tell Bas to start sending her husband home on time. Damn, now that one’s good. Why haven’t you thought of that?”

“I have,” I protested. “But when I mentioned it to her, she lost her shit. Made me swear I wouldn’t say anything that would make Sean look bad at his new job. And dude, when I say lost her shit, you don’t know a meltdown until you see this woman melt down.”

“Why would you tell her first? Why not just go and do it? That was your mistake, dumbass.”

“Yeah, I know that now. But at the time, when she was going to pieces in my office, looking like a zoo animal in desperate need of a tranquilizer, I was trying to calm her down with any idea I could come up with. It seemed like a logical idea.”

“It is a logical idea…to a sane person. But that’s where you went wrong, see?”

“Don’t be a jackass, Banks.”

“Okay, okay. Seriously, though. Call human resources. Tell them to call down to the job site and tell Sean Gibson he’s reached his max on overtime for this pay period. At least the problem will be temporarily solved.”

I dipped my head, agreeing with him—until my mind hit another roadblock. “It would sound viable coming from HR, but I’d still have to make sure my name stays totally out of the exchange.”

“Easy solution to that. I can make the call. I’ll tell them I was reviewing payroll, and we’re over budget. They won’t question me—not that they’d question you either, but if you don’t want to risk having your name attached to the bulletin, then I’ll handle it. You won’t be anywhere near the whole matter.”

I nodded with steadier intent. “It’s a solid idea.”

“Of course it is. It’s mine.”