Brannigan ran a hand roughshod through his hair, disheveling it in unruly directions. He was proud of his father for the way he’d turned the family around. Proud of the legacy his father had created before retiring. Hell, the man was still active in half a dozen causes. But in this sense, it didn’t do him any good. “I know, Papà. I know, sorry for pushing.”
“I know how frustrated you are that you’ve not been able to properly meet this man,” his father said, tone gentle. “I know that you like him. But he was close to you tonight. That means he’s in Boston. He’s nearby. Isn’t that a good sign? That he finally came close?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’d have taken it as that. But I asked him tonight why he wouldn’t meet me if he was willing to come this close. He said he has people to protect. He’s not sure if it’s a good idea if I can put a face to him. He doesn’t trust me, Papà.”
“My son, my sweet son, is that what’s hurting you? That he won’t trust you?”
“Isn’t it completely unfair? I trust him. I can’t even put a face to him, or hell, even his name. But I trust him.”
“You do not know his reasons or his circumstances. Do not assume that because he won’t meet you now, he won’t ever do so. He came close to you tonight and for no other reason than to tease you. It’s the first time in six years he was willing to do so. Take that as a positive sign.”
Brannigan sighed heavily. “You’ve got a good point. Okay.”
“And I hope for your sake he’ll reconsider and come meet you properly. It’ll be good for you to date someone you actually like.”
Brannigan pulled the phone away from his ear to stare at it suspiciously for a second before replacing it. “So it’s obvious even to you that I like him?”
“Brannigan. A blind man in space couldn’t miss that.”
“Then surely he’s realized?”
“I would hope so. And that might be part of the reason he’s so cautious. You have a tendency to latch onto things you like and never give them up.”
“Guilty.” Brannigan shrugged, no defense on his lips. He still had Bun-Bun from his infancy sitting on a shelf in his study. Once he decided he liked something, he didn’t relinquish it easily.
“I ask only one favor from you. I know that you’re frustrated and that you want to properly meet him. Please, don’t do anything stupid and dangerous to get his attention.”
“Now Papà, would I do that?”
“Yes. Yes, you would.”
His father knew him too well. “Well, it might be silly, but I promise it won’t be dangerous.”
“Good. Your mother worries.”
Brannigan snorted. Sure, it was his mother. His mother, who was definitely the more practical parent of the two. “Sure she does.”
“Good night, my son. Rest well.”
“Night, Papà.” He hung up and stared at the phone for a while. He thought about texting K again, see if the burner number would still work. It likely wouldn’t. K never used the same phone for more than a day before the number mysteriously disconnected.
Most of the time, Brannigan wouldn’t try it. Tonight, he felt desperate enough to do so. He typed in: Tell me what I have to do so that you’ll trust me enough to meet.
No answer.
Sighing, he called his head of security.
Gideon sounded a little tipsy as he answered, “Hey, boss.”
“He was there tonight.”
“Who was?”
“K.”
Gideon’s lackadaisical tone immediately sharpened. “Wait. Wait, K was at the restaurant? He was your date?”
“I only wish he was my date. But yes, he was at the restaurant. I heard him for a few seconds. Gideon, pull the security footage at the restaurant. I’m sure they have at least a few cameras. I might be able to narrow the field. He was on the phone with me off and on throughout the date.”
“You realize he’s probably already scrubbed the footage.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. He was rattled that I’d almost caught him. He might not be as on top of his game as usual. Just check, please.”
“Sure thing. I’m on it now.”
“Thanks, Gideon.” Brannigan hung up, then blew out a long breath. A hot bath, some bath bombs, and some wine was in order. He needed to unwind if he had even a chance of sleeping tonight.
K was in Boston. Brannigan would find him or die trying.
Brannigan was only in a marginally better mood the next morning. He managed to be cordial to people as he walked into the office—well, one of his offices. He ostensibly had nine. There was one in each of the five-star hotels he owned, his home office (that he actually used the most frequently), and one each for his real estate projects. Those were nothing glamourous, just a trailer on each building site, but sometimes he had to be there for hours at a time.
This morning he went to The Office—originally his father’s, when Mattias Genovese decided to go legit. It was on the second floor of the restaurant he’d opened, a homey and very well-lived-in area with rows upon rows of bookshelves crammed with records. A massive old mahogany desk sat in the middle of the floor, and the laptop and files sitting on it didn’t begin to cover the surface.
Slinging himself behind it, Brannigan set his coffee tumbler off to the side and opened his laptop. He had a slew of emails to get through this morning, some project requisitions to review and sign off on, and other miscellaneous things. Hopefully his attention span would kick in at some point. He felt more than a bit scatterbrained at the moment.
Three emails in, Gideon strode through the door. His head of security looked a bit worse for wear, with dark circles under his eyes, and a slight squint to his dark brown eyes that suggested the dregs of a hangover. He was in his normal white shirt, dark slacks, and discreet black boots. “Sir. No luck on the cameras.”
Brannigan sucked in a breath. Blew it out very slowly to avoid saying something he probably shouldn’t. “Let me guess. They had technical problems.”
“Something like that. They said the cameras went offline about a half hour before you arrived, but the machine didn’t throw up a warning for some reason.” Gideon said this very dryly. “I think I know what caused their glitch.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Brannigan tried to stave off the oncoming headache through sheer willpower. “Damn his thoroughness.”
“I know you’re mad, boss,” Gideon hedged, his Boston accent thickening, “but please don’t do something stupid or reckless to get him to call you.”
“Actually, right now the furthest thing from my mind is talking to him. I’m mad. I’m so mad that I was flipping off random security cameras as I got coffee and breakfast this morning.”
Gideon’s eyebrows rose, although he was trying to tamp down any obvious signs of amusement. “That must have been a sight.”
“Oh, I got more than a few strange looks. But I knew K was watching.”
“You’re really convinced he watches you all day?”
“Probably not all day, but the majority of it, yeah. He always alerts me when he can’t, which tells me something.” Alright, so that was a dead end. Brannigan should have guessed as much. K was nothing if not thorough. Sighing, he let it go. “Alright, so where do we stand on Roxbury? We have enough security to go through there?”