Chapter 29 Kate
KATE
“I’m so sorry I missed out on our plans. We . . . had an unexpected business trip come up. I would’ve told you, but I accidentally left my phone at home.”
Becky is sitting across from me at lunch, eyes wide in disbelief. Luke is three tables down in a booth across from Jackson, gaze rarely straying from me.
“You don’t mean . . . oh dear, are you”—she glances over at our boss, leaning closer—“sleeping with him?”
A fleeting thought of lying goes through my brain, but I dismiss it. At this point, I genuinely don’t think she’s going to spill, and she has dug up quite a bit of dirt for me.
“Well . . . now that you’ve asked up front—”
She claps her hands together. “Oh dear! I just knew it! When he looks in your direction, it’s like the entire office temp jumps up a hundred degrees! Young love . . . ahh . . .”
I shift nervously as her eyes grow distant.
“I don’t . . . I don’t really know what you mean.”
She dismissively waves a hand, a smile curving up her cheeks. “You know what I mean! Don’t tell me you’re actually oblivious to how much that man wants you. I’d bet my vintage Pyrex collection on it. He’s mad for you, Katie girl. Mad.”
The way she keeps emphasizing the word mad gives me concern. I nervously toss my hair behind my shoulder, picking at the Alfredo noodles on my plate with my fork.
“I—I think he mostly sees me as a temporary thing.”
It’s nerve-racking, confessing your fears to someone you barely know, but in some ways, it’s almost easier. She doesn’t know me well enough to dive in deeper and get to the root of the problem.
“What makes you say that, honey?”
I shrug. “He’s never once mentioned anything more. No dates, no usual couple stuff, like movies and dinner. Certainly hasn’t said anything about the future. It’s been really . . . odd, I guess.”
I can’t exactly confide in Becky about the wedding, the stabbing, the trip to his farm, or what happened under the waterfall.
Since then, we haven’t repeated it. He set me up in one of his five guest rooms and insisted on driving me to lunch with Becky and everywhere else in the name of safety.
Other than his lingering glances, I feel like he wants me close . . . but still an arm’s length away.
“Well, you know what they say about cow’s milk.”
I stare at her blankly, shaking my head as the waiter stops by to refill the breadsticks Becky inhaled.
“Cow’s milk isn’t free unless . . . no, that’s not it. Don’t give him a cow unless he offers . . . hmm, I think I’ve got it wrong. Hold on.”
The waiter gives Becky an odd look, asking if we want more Diet Coke.
“No, thanks. We’ll take the check.”
“Guy in the suit covered it.”
Becky’s eyes widen again as she giggles like a schoolgirl. I blush, realizing with horror that this is Luke’s first time buying me lunch, and I’m sitting with Becky, three tables away.
“Maybe he does want the milk.”
I have no idea what she’s talking about, so I don’t respond.
I resist trying to scratch the itch on my arm. The stitches are hidden under my long sleeve, which thankfully no one seems to blink an eye at despite the hot summer day. Becky is typing on her phone, presumably looking for a quote about cow’s milk.
“Listen, Becky, I have a favor to ask.”
Her eyes jump up to mine, and I see a spark of excitement.
I lean in closer. “I need you to look into a guy . . . a guy my roommate is dating. I don’t think he’s . . . good for her.”
She’s already reaching for a pen and notepad inside her enormous bubblegum-pink handbag. “I would love to! What’s his name?”
I lower my voice, looking around to make sure no one is listening.
“His name is Nik, short for Nikolai—well, that’s what he goes by. He’s from Russia, I think, and his real name is Edik Lebedev. He works as a bartender at Divine Taste downtown.”
She’s scribbling away. “Hmm, I’m intrigued. What does he look like?”
“Long blonde hair, tattoos, muscular. Has an accent.”
“Oh, yummy. Why don’t you think he’s good for her?”
I shrug. “Just a hunch. Could you text me when you find something?”
“I’ll let you know tonight. I’ve been in need of a good sleuthing session.”
It’s been way too long since I’ve seen my dad. If he lived closer to where we are, I’d ask Luke to make a pit stop, but I know he needs to get back to the office.
“Can we go by Memory Care tonight? My dad lives there.”
Luke is in the driver’s seat of the black SUV as we make our way back to work.
“I had Jackson check in on him and Mel this morning. They’re both okay.”
“Oh, thank you . . . can I still go see him?”
“Of course, if you’d like. The issue is . . . if they are still after you, going around him could expose a weakness. These kinds of people are beyond ruthless. If they know your dad is important to you, they could use that information as blackmail. Potentially.”
The panicked thoughts that screech through my mind are interrupted by my phone ringing. It’s a new one that Luke bought me, since the other may have been tapped. I pull it out to see Mel’s face on the screen.
“Hey, Mel.” I attempt to make my voice sound neutral.
“Hey! I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages. Can we please plan a marg night out?”
“Oh, sure. I’ve missed you. How are you?”
“Aside from missing my bestie, I’m golden. It’s been lonely since Nik went to visit his uncle. He’s got cancer.”
My eyes cut to Luke, and I see his jaw clench. So, Nikolai is gone . . . at least temporarily.
“Well . . . I’m sorry to hear that. Yes, let’s get drinks tonight and catch up.”
“Meet me at Tres Locas? Seven?”
“Sounds good.”
I hit the End button as we pull into the parking garage of the Bradshaw Enterprises building.
“He’s most likely still in the city, lying low until he heals enough to make another attempt.”
I swallow. “Attempt on my life?”
Luke parks the SUV, twisting to face me. “I’m going to keep you safe, Kate. I need you to trust me. We’ll get him before he gets us.”
I want him to kiss me, but instead, he pulls out his gun and attaches it to a holster hidden at his hip.
Whatever this is, I don’t know where I stand with him. The insecurities that haunt me after being with a man for eight years, who cheated on me with my roommate, are creeping in.
Who am I to think that if a greasy-haired wannabe musician bumming off of my crappy apartment doesn’t want me, why would this handsome, ex-military billionaire want me?
I’m trailing behind him into the building, nervous to be alone in the elevator again.
I wrap my arms around my body, hugging myself.
Luke is eons out of my league. He saw me as what was available at the time and nothing more.
Now, he clearly feels guilty for the attempt on my life, and he wants to protect me in case another attempt is made.
Of course he doesn’t want my life on his head.
My clothes suddenly feel tight and uncomfortable.
We’re about to step into the elevator, but I need a minute.
“Can I . . . use the restroom on the ground floor?”
He turns to me, reaching out an arm to hold open the doors.
“I just . . . I’ve had to go since the restaurant, so . . . can I meet you up top?”
I attempt a half-smile, hoping he lets me go. He doesn’t have control over me, but I know he views my safety as his problem.
He debates for a moment, eyes trailing over me before surveying the area around. It’s mostly abandoned, considering it’s Friday afternoon.
He finally nods. “Come straight up after? We don’t know what the next move will be.”
“Of course. See you in a few.”
I quickly turn and walk away, finding the women’s restroom at the end of the hall.
This entire building is swanky, and even the restrooms are no exception.
I do my business and come out to wash my hands.
I look up into the mirror, jerking as I meet the cold stare of Mr. Bradshaw’s chief of staff, Georginne.
“Oh, you scared me.”
I clutch a hand to my chest, blowing out a breath. She doesn’t smile, beady eyes watching me.
Creepy much?
I grab a paper towel, deciding to ignore her. I already got the job. What can she do now if she doesn’t like me for some unknown reason?
“You know, Miss Dawson, you were an easy choice. I could sense the gullibility over the phone.”
My veins turn to ice. Is she . . . threatening me?
“I don’t know what—”
“Of course you don’t. You’re really only good for one thing. One small but vital role of this entire production was all we needed you for.” She shakes her head, cruel amusement creasing a smile across her face. “Now that you’ve played the part, we don’t really have any further reason to—”
“Now, Anya, don’t scare the girl. Save it for when we have an audience,” a deep voice interrupts, thick with an accent.
My eyes cut to the doorway to see the masked man. My heart rate skyrockets, fear prickling my skin.
Nikolai!?
I take a step back, my butt connecting with the countertop of the sink. My veins turn to ice.
I have nowhere to go.