“Harlow, this is Haven. My best friend and my brother Rhys’ best decision.”
With a smile, Haven sat and shook Harlow’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Sorry to hear about your dad and everything.”
“Thanks.”
“I had my own problems a little while ago.” Haven ordered a martini, then launched into a story about a missing $100-million-dollar painting, a toxic ex, nasty bad guys, and trying to avoid falling in love with Rhys Norcross.
Gia swirled her drink. “Haven failed miserably on that last one. She was so busy swearing off men after her ex, she was totally blind to the fact that my brother had his eye on her.”
Haven smiled. “And then he kind of steamrolled me with his bossy, alpha-male hotness.”
Harlow made a sound. “Norcross men are good at that.”
“Rhys also kept me safe, rescued me, and loves me more than anyone ever has before.”
Harlow could practically see hearts in Haven’s pretty eyes. Harlow definitely wasn’t going anywhere near the L word.
“I’m so worried about my dad.”
Rome leaned closer. “Easton and the others will find him. Vander can find anyone.”
Harlow nodded. She wanted to believe that.
The women chatted about work—Gia owned a successful PR firm, and Haven was the curator at the Hutton Museum, which Easton’s company owned.
Glancing around the bar, Harlow spotted a woman with a fabulous pair of Jimmy Choos on. As she watched, the woman stopped talking midsentence, her mouth dropping open.
Harlow turned her head to follow the woman’s gaze, and her heart did a crazy dance against her ribs.
Easton, Vander, Rhys, and Saxon were walking across the bar.
She didn’t blame the woman for being rendered speechless.
They sure were an assault on the senses. Saxon—tall and elegant, with a gold gleam to his hair, and a blue shirt that set off his golden skin.
Rhys Norcross had his jacket off and slung over one shoulder. The top buttons of his white shirt were open, and he had messy, rock-star hair. He spotted Haven and a smile broke out on his handsome face. Wow. It was a doozy. Sexy, with a dash of charm and cheek. She was pretty sure all the women in the bar sighed at the sight of it.
Vander was next. His black hair was a little past needing a cut, framing his expressionless face. It was the kind of expression that taunted a woman to get to know the man beneath it. He wore a black suit that did nothing to hide his muscular body.
And Easton.
Her chest tightened and she felt a tingle in her belly. He was just hot. Handsome, and radiating power and authority.
His gaze found her, and she felt like the center of his universe.
“Wowser, those two are generating some heat,” Haven murmured loudly to Gia.
“Tell me about it. My bro is toast.”
Harlow ignored them.
Rhys and Saxon claimed their women for kisses. Vander nodded at Harlow, then turned to Rome for an update.
Easton gripped Harlow’s shoulders. “We haven’t found him yet.”
She slumped. God. Where are you, Dad?
“But he was spotted at a few places. He’s alive, Harlow, and seems to be laying low.”
She jolted. “He’s avoiding us on purpose?” She felt a spark of annoyance.
“I’m guessing he’s avoiding the people after him, not you.”
“And putting us through hell worrying about him.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “How could he do that?”
Easton cupped her cheek. “Calm down, baby.”
“I need another martini.”
Then he shocked her by running his thumb across her lips. “You’ll deal. You’re tougher than you think.”
“I’m going to cry later and you’ll change your mind.”
He just shook his head, a faint smile on his lips.
“Any luck with Rhoda Pierce?” she asked.
Vander turned to them, his face hardening. “Talked to her right-hand man. Wouldn’t put me through to her, but she’s agreed to meet me tomorrow.”
“This could all be a misunderstanding?” Harlow asked hopefully.
“No,” Vander said.
“Damn.” She needed a moment alone, plus she needed the restroom. Her bladder was full of martini. “I’m heading to the ladies’ room.”
Easton frowned.
“It’s just over there.” She pointed to the hall with a discreet restroom sign. “Rome checked it already. There’s no way out of there, unless you can shimmy through a tiny window and scale the building.”
“All right.”
Harlow crossed the bar, suddenly full of anger at her dad. She couldn’t believe he was avoiding her and her family. Her mom was so worried. “Dammit, Dad.”
She accidentally bumped into a man.
“Sorry,” she said automatically.
Then she glanced up and saw heavy brows over dark, angry eyes. She gasped. It was Hugo, Antoine’s cousin.
“Hey, pretty bird.”
Her skin crawled. “I’m with friends.” She looked back and saw Easton watching them with a frown.
“I know you have protection. Norcross protection.” Hugo spat the words. “Those fuckers think they own the city.”
“Leave me alone.” She sidestepped him.
He just leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “If I get you for Antoine, I bet he’d reward me real good. Snatch you away, where no one can find you.”
Her pulse tripped, and she saw Easton start toward them.
Hugo moved closer, invading her space, and his hot breath brushed her cheek.
“And he might even share.” Hugo made an ugly, sucking sound.
Her heart was pounding so fast she could barely breathe. A trio of laughing women moved closer, and Hugo moved away.
Harlow turned and she couldn’t spot him anymore.
Easton reached her. “What’s wrong?”
“That was Antoine’s cousin.”
Easton glanced back and waved Vander over.
“What did he say?” Easton demanded.
She gave him a quick summary.
Dark anger fired in Easton’s eyes. “Anything else you aren’t telling me?”
She sighed. “Antoine might have agreed to wipe out whatever my father owes him, in return for…me.”
A muscle ticked in Easton’s jaw, and he looked at his brother as Vander reached them.
“Hugo Durant, Armand’s asshole cousin, just threatened Harlow.”
“Fuck,” Vander muttered. “Let’s find him.”
The men stalked out of the bar. Rome stayed behind, but from his scowl, it looked like he’d prefer to be out on the hunt.
Harlow was really busting to go to the toilet now. “I’ll be in the ladies’.”
She walked in. Everyone was trying to keep her safe. Easton was like a shield, protecting her.
She moved quickly into a stall and took care of business. When she strode out and washed her hands, the vanity in front of her seemed to wobble, and she blinked. Then, the room spun, and she felt a little woozy. She gripped the sink. What the hell? How many martinis had she drunk?
The room swirled, her legs faltered, and her skin flushed.
A door opened, and she looked up to see a redhead stride out of another stall.