Hard Rules (Dirty Money #1)(69)

Anger at my situation has my hand going into my jacket pocket and grabbing my phone. I check for a message I already know isn’t there before hitting the redial button, grimacing as one ring sends me to voice mail. The line beeps and I say, “This is the last call I’m making. If I don’t hear from you today, I’m out.” I end the call and give myself a mental pat on the back. Let him squirm over the definition of “I’m out.” I’ve just shoved my phone back in my pocket when Shane reappears.

“Jessica got us a viewing of the apartment, but we need to go now. Apparently, the owner still lives there and is out at the moment.”

I stand and grab my coffee while he does the same with his. “How close is it?” I ask.

“Ten minutes in a cab if we can find one,” he says, and we both grab our bagels and toss them in the trash on the way to the door.

Shane hails a cab quickly, and once we’re inside, his hand closes on my leg, and he pulls me closer, aligning our bodies, our legs touching, but already he is glancing at another text message. The next moment, he’s pulling up a video he doesn’t try to hide, watching what appears to be several men in a warehouse, loading boxes on a truck. The instant it’s over, he releases my leg and punches a call button.

“What the hell did I just watch?” he demands of whoever answers the call, and while I can’t hear the conversation, I have a pretty good idea it’s Seth based on what I’ve seen of their interactions.

“You’re sure?” Shane asks, after listening a few beats. “Son of a bitch, this takes everything to a new level. When do you get back?” He listens again, and then, “I want to meet with the security team as well. Tomorrow.” He ends the call, tension crackling off of him, but he contains it, unmoving—every bit of the anger I sense in him well bridled, his control enviable in every way.

Time passes, and still he doesn’t speak or look at me, but his hand comes back down on my leg, silently telling me he’s still right here with me. I reach down and cover his hand with mine, answering with a silent promise that I’m not going anywhere. I’ve never wanted it to mean more.

“I had concerns that one of the companies under our umbrella was a liability,” he says, turning his head in my direction, “and Seth has confirmed I’m correct.”

“Can you fix it?”

“I have to fix it. There’s no other option.”

The cab stops in front of the blue glass building in the center of what seems to be a high-end shopping district. Shane pays the driver and exits first, offering me his hand, and helping me to my feet, allowing me to discover we’re nearly on top of a mall. “I’m no longer objective about this apartment,” I say. “It has me at shopping.”

He laces his fingers with mine. “I’ll bring you back another day and show you around. Unfortunately today, I have some business to attend to.”

“I know your family will be cautious with me now, but I’m still close to your father. Tell me what to be looking for and if I can help I will.”

“Not this time,” he says, draping his arm around my shoulders to put us in motion toward the front door of the building. “I don’t want you anywhere near this problem.”

Like I don’t want him anywhere near my mess, I think, and it’s not a good thought. Suddenly, I can’t help but wonder if we are the right people but at the wrong time. But how could this ever be the right time in my situation? I wouldn’t want to miss knowing Shane and I don’t know where that leaves me, or us.

I’m still trying to figure out the answer when we reach the double glass doors of the building. Shane opens the door for me. I step inside the foyer, seeing gray stone under my feet, a capped high ceiling above me, and a luxury seating area outlined by an expensive-looking blue oriental rug. Shane joins me, and I say, “It’s pretty, but kind of sterile, where the Four Seasons feels warm and friendly.”

“‘Sterile’ seems an appropriate description,” he agrees, motioning toward the seating area where a man and woman, both in business casual attire, are chatting.

His arm returns to my shoulders.

“I feel underdressed and like I need a shower,” I say, as we start walking.

“I’m spending millions on this place if I buy it,” he says. “They’re the only ones who need to take a shower.”

“Only you could say that and not sound arrogant,” I comment.

“Because I see the influence of money as a fact,” he states. “It’s about knowing where your power comes from.”

Knowing where your power comes from. Those words resonate with me, and in my mind, I believe my phone will ring now. Because I took the power I still had left, and used it when I left that message. I’m so lost in thought I don’t immediately realize the woman is walking toward us, and not only is she elegant in black pants and blouse, she has spiky blond hair and her name is Jessica.

Instantly on the defensive, I try to pull my hand away from Shane and he catches it on the other side of his hip. “Shane, let go, damn it.”

“She’s already seen us, sweetheart, and I trust her. You can trust her too.”

“Why didn’t you at least warn me?”

“I didn’t know she was going to be here until we walked in.”