He sits forward in his seat. “Like what?”
“Apparently—and honestly, I have no idea if this is true, but Molly said it was what circulated at the time—he was tapping Keely May’s phone and stealing her stories.”
“What?” he snaps. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No.”
He smiles broadly. “This is excellent. This gives me enough ammunition.”
“To do what?”
“To get a search on his computers. We haven’t tapped him yet.”
I smile proudly. “Hopefully this will help us.”
“Good work, Em.” He swivels on his chair and makes a note.
I watch him for a moment. “There was also something else.”
His eyes rise.
“I haven’t said anything to Jameson, but Gabriel Ferrara made a pass at me last night.”
His face falls. “He did what?” he snaps.
“Don’t get excited,” I stammer.
“What did he say?”
I frown as I think back. “I was at the bar, and he asked me who I was. I thought he was just being nice, and I replied Emily.”
Tristan frowns as he listens.
“Then he picked up my hand and kissed the back of it and said, ‘My name is Gabriel Ferrara, and I like to take over all things owned by Jameson Miles.’”
Tristan’s eyes widen.
“Then he said, ‘Women included.’”
“What the fuck?” Tristan snaps. “Are you fucking serious?” He stands in a rush.
“But I don’t know if I read it the wrong way or . . . ,” I stammer. “I don’t want to be making more of this than it is, but I felt that it was really quite off.”
Tristan’s eyes blaze with anger. “What did you say?”
“I told him he was insulting my intelligence and to go away.” I curl my lip in disgust. “He makes my skin crawl.”
“Fucking hell.” Tristan sighs as he turns and puts his hands into his suit pockets and stares out the window, deep in thought.
“I didn’t say anything to Jameson because I feel like that’s exactly what Gabriel wanted me to do.”
Tristan’s jaw ticks in anger. “He wants to start a war.”
“That’s what it felt like . . . there could be no other explanation,” I whisper.
“He’s trying to rattle him by attacking him on a personal basis.”
“Yes.” I sigh as my heart bleeds for my Jay. “I worried about whether I should say anything to you all night.”
Tristan’s eyes come to me. “Don’t tell Jameson.”
“Okay.”
“Let’s keep this between us.”
I exhale heavily.
“I’m concerned about Jameson,” he says. “He’s about to fucking crack.”
“I know; I’m going to try to get him out of the city for the weekends and get him offline. I’m doing all I can to keep him calm.”
“Good idea.” He nods, still deep in thought. “If you had told him about Gabriel, he would be over there strangling the fucker right now.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I know.”
“You did the right thing.” He smiles. “Thank you for telling me.”
My eyes hold his. “I hate not telling Jameson, but I feel like I need to protect him from this. Gabriel is just trying to rattle him.”
“My thoughts exactly,” he agrees. “Thanks, I’ll get on this now. Can you do me a favor and try to find out as much about Hayden’s personal life as you can? Where he hangs out, partner, that kind of thing.”
“Okay, I’m on it.” I stand and leave his office and walk over to Jameson’s office, and I knock on the door.
“Come in,” his deep, velvety voice calls.
I open the door to see my beautiful man sitting behind his desk. He smiles warmly when he sees me and pats his lap.
I lock the door and sit on his lap and take his lips with mine. “Hello, boss.”
He runs his hand up my thigh. His mouth goes to my neck, and I smile, and then I see it.
A half-empty glass of scotch sitting on his desk. I glance at my watch.
“It’s eleven o’clock, Jameson.”
He rolls his eyes and pushes me off his lap. “I needed something to take the edge off. Don’t fucking start, Emily.”
“Okay,” I whisper. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he snaps as he turns back to his desk.
“Three days until our weekend away,” I whisper.
His phone rings, and he glances at the screen. “Can’t come soon enough. I have to take this. See you tonight.”
I kiss him softly, and then he answers the call. His voice instantly turns to the authoritative tone he uses with everyone else.
I stand at the door and watch him as he listens. He mindlessly picks up the scotch and sips it before he talks.
My heart drops.
Many a stressed-out CEO has been found in the bottom of a Blue Label scotch bottle.
Please, not mine . . .
I look around guiltily and then back down to my phone, and I put into the search bar “budget weekends away.”
“God,” I sigh. “Where can I take him?”
“Are you still going on about that?” Aaron asks.
Molly slides her chair to look over my shoulder.
“I want to take him somewhere that money can’t buy.” I twist my lips as I think. “It has to be something really special.”
Aaron chuckles. “Your special and Jameson Miles’s special may be a little different.”
“The thing is, when he’s at my apartment, he detaches from who he is. I want him to realize that we don’t need to live in a swanky apartment to be happy.”
“You’re fucking crazy.” Molly sighs. “What I wouldn’t give to live in his swanky apartment. Anybody would be happy as a pig in mud there. When are you inviting us over, bitch?”
“Right?” Aaron laughs.
“Hmm.” I narrow my eyes as I think.
“What about camping?” Molly says.
My eyes flick to her. “Oh, but we don’t have a tent or anything, and I won’t have time to buy it.”
“I’ve got it all. You can borrow ours. Michael and the kids go camping all the time.”
I stare at her for a moment. “Do you reckon he’s ever gone camping before?”
“Umm . . . that would be a definite no.” Aaron widens his eyes to accentuate his point. “Nobody goes camping of their own free will.”
Excitement fills me. “Really? Could we borrow your things? You wouldn’t mind?”
“Not at all. Take it. Michael and the kids are going to Dallas on Friday to see his parents for a week. They won’t be using it.”
“Maybe.” I smile as the idea takes shape in my head. “But the car,” I say, thinking out loud.
“Take Michael’s pickup truck, Bessie. Give him the full Swamp People experience.”
“Really?” I smirk as I imagine Jameson in a pickup.
“Yeah, it’s a total piece of shit, but it’s reliable.”
Aaron shakes his head in disgust. “Are you trying to scare him away on purpose?”