“I agree, Popsy. All these pregnant women can’t handle you if you fall. Better to be safe for the sake of the next generation,” Dante chirps.
“No one asked you,” I gripe, knowing he’s right. The wheelchair is a precaution.
“We brought you something that might help bring that smile back.” Lynda produces a bag out of nowhere, handing it over. Devin clutches it on my lap, gnawing on the edge.
I glance inside and my emotions take another swing. Inside is a new yoga mat, blocks, elastic bands, and an inflatable medicine ball. “Thank you,” is all I can say over my scratchy throat.
“Evin said you left your things back in Vegas. These are for your home training.”
“They are perfect.” I raise my eyes to the woman and her husband considered a part of the extended Graham family, trying to control the urge to burst into tears.
She acts fast, hugging me so my face is hidden, and giving me time to suck in a few deep breaths. “You’re where you need to be. We are all pushing until you dance again.”
I nod, beating down the reaction at her kindness. That’s it, she’s said it. I want to dance again. And at this moment, it hits me hard. I will dance again. No matter what. “I will dance again,” comes out raspy.
She backs away, her eyes warm with love.
“Y’all about done? The martinis are ready,” Annie calls.
“Shit, you’ll need the wheelchair tonight if you have one of those.”
“Then bring it in.” I glance up at him. “Let’s enjoy our welcome home.”
Chapter 31
Evin
“Be back in a while. You need anything, call me.” I kiss Poppy, rubbing my thumb across her cheek.
“I will,” she smiles, “stop worrying.”
“Seriously, leave already.” Ryanne points to the door, scowling. “Go have a beer, or five, order our food and give me some alone time. This is my last night with my best friend for weeks!”
“Got him.” Dante presses on my shoulder, cutting his eyes to the door. “Let’s go.”
He follows me, sliding into my truck, and before I’m out of the space, he’s barking, “Dude, what is up with you?”
“Dude?” I crook an eyebrow.
“Yes, you’re even more protective than normal, and that’s saying a lot.”
I grip the back of my neck, feeling the sharp tension that’s been a dull ache all day. “Don’t know what it is, but something’s off.”
“Something’s off? Care to elaborate? From where I stand, everything is coming together perfectly.”
“Marco called early this morning.”
“So? He contacts you every day.”
“No, man, he called,” I emphasize the word, “didn’t text. And he did it from a secure, unavailable number.”
“What the hell?”
“Exactly, gave me some bullshit excuse.”
“And you don’t believe it?”
“I didn’t exactly care. He asked about Poppy’s appointment with Rexwell, which I’d already reported to him through text. But he pried deeper, wanting to know specific details on her rehabilitation here in South Carolina.”
“The man’s been prying since day one.”
“This was different. He changed the tune of the conversation by getting personal. He asked things about my house, a security system, the safety of the neighborhood, shit like that. Then he wanted to know if someone was going to be with Poppy when I wasn’t around.”
Dante sits up straighter, twisting to face me. “Be with her how?”
“When I questioned that shit, he backtracked, covering by offering a private nurse if needed.”
“A nurse? Pips doesn’t need a nurse.”
“Exactly, and he knows it.”
“What else did he want?”
“I was waiting for him to ask to speak to her, figuring that’s why he called, but he never did. He hung up with the standard ‘take care of her’.”
“The same way he ends his daily texts?”
“Yes, but it was his tone. It was assertive like he was giving me an order and there was a hint of worry.”
“Well, he wasted his breath there. Shit, I hate to say this, but have you thought about Natasha?”
“It was my first thought.” I clench the wheel tighter. Anger burns in my blood thinking about how Tasha dodged the protection order by leaving town. It’s hard to prove someone is stalking you when they are across the world.
I debate sharing the next piece of news, but if my instincts are onto something, Dante needs to be in the loop.
“There’s something else.”
“From Marco?”
“No, I got a call from a longtime client today while we were at my parents’ house. Tony requested a meeting on Monday. Said it was urgent.”
“You’ve been out of the office for an extended amount of time.”
“My being out of the office isn’t an issue. None of my clients have suffered any personal commitment. Most of them didn’t know I was in Vegas. What’s unusual is him calling me on a Saturday to discuss business. When I say he requested an appointment, it was more of a demand.”
“Is he the needy type?”
I let out a loud, caustic laugh and cast my eyes to him. “Tony is anything but high-maintenance. He’s been with me since my early days in investment management. I’ve made the man a multi-millionaire.”
“Humble brag.”
“Nothing humble about it. I have a personal relationship with all my clients, but with him, it’s always been tight. He and I are a lot alike, or we were before I met Poppy.”
“Seriously, maybe you’re looking too much into this. Didn’t the market make a turn last week?”
“He’s safe and he knows it. I emailed his review on Thursday night after Poppy’s appointment.”
“Maybe he didn’t like what he saw.”
“Dante, two months ago, he sat in my office and busted my balls for a good fifteen minutes after he learned I’d eloped. When I say we’re a lot alike, I mean the brotherhood of lifetime bachelors. He loves the women, but mention commitment and he’s out the door before his pants are zipped. The man has it all: success, wealth, looks, charm—many broken hearts in his wake, and yet the women keep coming back. His parting words were something about losing a brother to the power of pussy.”
“Did you kick his ass?”
“Didn’t cross my mind, because that’s him. An hour later, a thousand-dollar bottle of scotch was delivered with a note.”
“What did the note say?”
I open my console, locate the card, and toss it to him.
‘Fuck, Graham, one look at her and I’d hand over my man card, too. Happy for you. Look forward to sharing a drink with your new bride.’
“Okay, he’s not a dick?”
“Never to me, until today. It was like talking to a stranger. He was all business. Not even a hint of the friend I know. When we hung up, I checked my email and five more meeting requests were waiting. All of them from clients in Tony’s inner circle. I called Tessa.”