Chapter 2
Chapter Two
S he was going to need more concealer.
In her lovely bathroom, her little sanctuary, Gia dabbed on her makeup.
She was headed to work shortly, had a full day ahead of her, and needed to hide two sleepless nights and her bruises.
She hadn’t slept much Saturday night after the gala, and she’d spent Sunday locked in her apartment, ignoring the world, and worrying about Willow.
Everyone had called to check on Gia, and she’d done her best to reassure them she was all right.
Last night, she’d been exhausted and sure she’d sleep.
Instead, she’d had nightmares of Dennett’s man chasing her…
but as she ran, he’d morphed into a steely-eyed Saxon, which had strangely scared her more.
Finally, Gia had fallen into a restless sleep in the early hours, then slept through her alarm. Which meant she was late. She hated being late.
She blew out a breath and studied her reflection.
That would have to do. She walked into her bedroom, wearing only her black bra and panties.
Gia loved lingerie. She owned zero pairs of granny panties, and she had more bra and panty sets than she’d ever ’fess up to.
She stepped into a sleek, navy-blue dress, and pulled her hair up into a twist.
She dug around in her walk-in wardrobe, and found a pair of navy Jimmy Choo pumps.
Then, her cell phone rang.
Cursing, she ran into the kitchen. She could run in heels just fine. She was the shortest in her family, so she’d been trying to compensate for years. Hell, she could probably run a marathon in heels. Okay, maybe not a marathon since she hated running.
She snatched her phone off the kitchen island. It was Haven.
“Hi, girlfriend. I told you yesterday, I’m fine.”
“G, I’m the queen of telling people that I’m fine when I’m not. Don’t kid a kidder.”
Gia sighed. “Fine. I didn’t sleep well. I’m worried about Willow.”
“But not yourself,” Haven said dryly.
“And I want to skewer Saxon with a fork and watch him bleed.”
“Hmm.”
Haven had a funny tone to her voice. “What does that mean?”
“It means hmm .”
“Haven—”
“It means that after thirty seconds around you two, I feel the need for a cigarette. And I’ve never smoked in my life.”
Gia sniffed. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You know, Gia. You’re the smartest woman I know.”
“He’s like an annoying older brother.” Liar, liar, Gia Gabriella. She’d never, not once, thought brotherly thoughts about Saxon Buchanan.
“Hmm,” Haven said again.
“I’m ignoring that and hanging up now. I have to get to work.”
“I won’t forget. One night, I’m going to get you tipsy on your favorite Syrah, and you’re going to tell me all about your supernova sexual tension with the oh-so-sexy Saxon.”
“Nothing to tell. Okay, bye.”
Shoving all thoughts of Saxon down deep and clanking a big padlock on them, Gia grabbed her things and strode out of her apartment.
She lived in a gorgeous building in SoMa.
Between her apartment and her business, she owed way too much to the bank, but thankfully, Easton was a financial whiz.
After he’d left the Army Rangers, he’d dedicated himself to making money.
He managed all her investments, and Firelight PR turned over a tidy profit.
Her car was waiting out front. Her driver, Rob—a buff man in his late forties—opened the door for her.
“Morning, Ms. Norcross.”
“Good morning, Rob. How’s Katie today?”
The man grinned. “That florist you suggested did the trick. She loved the flowers, and forgave me.”
“Wonderful news.” Gia slid into the back seat of the Mercedes.
Rob had lost his first wife five years ago to cancer. He’d found navigating the dating scene hard, but had ended up falling for the sweet, forty-something schoolteacher who lived next door to him.
The car slid into traffic. Gia’s office was downtown, so there wasn’t far to go, but she got a lot of work done on her phone on the drive.
Gia was happy for Rob and Katie. And Haven and Rhys. Gia had no time for a man, and had yet to meet one who could keep up with her. So many felt intimidated, or were needy, or competitive. The last guy she’d dated could not handle the fact she made more money than he did.
Lifting her phone, she opened her emails. Work was all she needed.
She started sorting through the urgent stuff that needed her attention. She had her assistant cull lots of them. She also had a great team at Firelight PR. She loved her job.
She did work for Easton, especially for the Hutton. She did work for Vander when he let her. Norcross Security at least had a website, but much to her dismay, no social media presence. Vander had made it very clear that he’d never post on social media.
She saw an email from a Kenneth Grahame and froze. He was the author of an old English children’s story, Wind in the Willows .
Willow.
She opened it. There were only two words. I’m okay.
Gia closed her eyes. Her friend was okay. Of course, Willow hadn’t thought to ask about Gia.
Willow had survived a tough upbringing. Her mom had been an alcoholic, and her dad had just been plain mean.
They hadn’t been poor, but they’d been definitely on the bottom rung of middle-class, and clinging to it desperately.
Willow had always resented that she’d had to go without.
And when times were tough, her dad had coped by hitting Willow and her mom sometimes.
Willow always had an edginess to her, like she was looking for where the next blow might come from, or searching for her next escape route. She’d been wild, and still was. Teenage Gia had been in awe of her.
Now, grown-up Gia was just worried about her friend. They weren’t as close as they had been. Willow had a drug problem, and Gia had paid for rehab twice. Her heart twisted. Willow had stayed four days the first time, and two days the second time around.
Her brothers and Saxon wanted Gia to cut her off, but then Willow would have no one.
Gia remembered that Willow had been the one who’d taught Gia to use makeup. They’d giggled together about boys. She’d helped Gia get revenge on Nancy Butler, who’d kissed Gia’s boyfriend at school. There’d been a lot of toilet paper involved.
She smiled, remembering those days. Willow was also the only person a young Gia had confessed to that she had a deep crush on her brother’s best friend.
Yeah, she’d crushed hard on the gorgeous, beautiful, golden Saxon Buchanan…
for about thirty seconds. She’d been twelve and full of budding hormones.
He’d been sixteen, and took every chance to tease Gia—about her hair, about being on the debate team, about her boyfriends, about everything.
Argh, he made her lose her temper quicker than anyone she’d ever known.
Over his and Vander’s last few years at school, Saxon had become her nemesis.
Whenever they’d been in the same room, they’d argued.
He’d teased her and she’d shouted at him.
The man thought he was better than everyone else, and he was so damn bossy.
She’d watched him work his way through all the cheerleaders at school with ridiculous ease.
It had been Gia’s sworn duty to keep the man’s ego from growing to epic proportions.
She might have shed a tear or two when he’d enlisted with Vander and they’d both joined the Army. Not that she’d ever tell Saxon that.
She’d seen him occasionally when he and her brothers were on leave from Delta Force. Even then, Saxon had excelled at annoying the hell out of her. The man knew just what buttons to press, the arrogant know-it-all.
Gia shook it all off as the car stopped. “Thanks, Rob.”
“Call me if you need me.”
She strode into the building. She loved the bright, airy lobby. Firelight PR took up two floors, and she kept tapping on her phone as she rode the elevator up.
“Morning, Janine,” she said to the receptionist at the high, polished reception desk.
“Good morning, Ms. Norcross.” The bubbly blonde smiled back.
Gia strode through the open-plan office area. Phones were ringing, keyboards clacking, and several people surrounded a whiteboard, having a spirited debate.
Ah, yes, she loved her work.
She neared her corner office, and outside, her assistant Ashley Wu rose from her desk. She was two years older than Gia, with the long lean body of a dancer. She was also the most organized woman on the planet.
“Morning.” Ashley held out a takeout coffee cup.
“I knew there was a reason I employed you.” Gia sipped and groaned.
“Late night?” Ashley’s long, dark hair was black at the top, but slowly changed colors to a silver-pink at the ends.
“Rough night,” Gia corrected. “Caffeine will be my God today.”
“How was the gala?”
“Great.”
Ashley lifted a newspaper off her desk. “Uneventful?”
Gia saw the headline. Shootout at Museum Charity Gala.
“Hmm.” Gia drank some more coffee.
“It says that a woman in a gorgeous blue Alberta Ferretti dress and a man pulled guns and fired on each other.”
Oh, crap. “Really?”
“Gia, I helped you pick out that dress. I’m guessing Easton pulled a ton of strings for your name not to be in here.” Ashley stabbed the paper.
“My brothers handled it.”
Ashley got a dreamy, faraway look on her face.
“Ash?”
“Sorry, just a little daydream about your brothers handling me. All three of them, at the same time.”
“Ew, stop fantasizing about my brothers.” Gia had suffered her entire life having three hot brothers. “And Rhys is taken now.”
“I hate Haven,” Ashley said good-naturedly. “That lucky bitch.”
Smiling, Gia crossed to her office.
It was airy, elegant, with pops of color.
The windows at one end let in lots of light.
Behind her wide, pale-wood desk she had built in shelves that flanked a colorful painting done in splatters of pink, yellow, blue, and green.
Two comfy, yet stylish, white guest chairs sat in front of her desk.
At the other end of the space was a sleek, feminine chesterfield sofa with lots of colorful pillows.