“Thank you again, my friend. And Talia thanks you as well and wants to cook for you the next time you are in DC.”
“I’ll take her up on that,” I promised. “Give my best to your family, including your mother-in-law.”
His noise of disgust made me smile. “Fine,” he said like he was pained. “Take care, my friend, da skorava.”
Once I hung up, I was sitting there, staring out the double stack of windows that framed a fantastic view of the skyline when Hasana Shepherd, one of my two assistants, buzzed me.
I got up and walked to my office door, opened it, and looked out at her. “Yes?”
Her sigh was long. “Why didn’t you answer me on the intercom?”
I grinned at her. “Because I wanted to see your beautiful face.”
She absently rubbed her extended belly, seven months pregnant with her second child. “No. No you did not. You got up because you don’t know how to use the new phone system.”
“Lies,” I assured her. “My watch told me I needed to stand up, so I’m standing up.”
Her expression made it clear she wasn’t fooled for an instant. “This is because Owen’s not here to make you a cheat sheet.”
“I—what?”
“You don’t like to learn new technology because, and I quote, ‘it’s just gonna change in six months, so why should I get used to it,’” she finished, doing a horrible impression of my voice.
“That doesn’t even sound like me,” I informed her.
“Uh-huh. My impersonation skills should not be your takeaway.”
I scowled at her.
“You don’t like to learn new technology.”
“That’s a gross oversimplification of the facts.”
“God, I miss Owen,” she whined.
I did too, and his radio silence was eating away at me, a constant worry at the back of my brain. It wasn’t doing anything for my heart either. I missed his smile, his laugh, the way his brows scrunched up when he was looking at me like I was driving him nuts, and really, simply the sound of his voice. I was so much better, nicer, calmer when he was around.
“What do you want?” I snapped at her.
“Aaron Sutter’s on the line. So I’m going to do you a favor and forward it to your cell so I don’t have you fumbling around with the phone on your desk while he tries to talk to you!”
“I could fire you,” I said flatly.
“And how would you train someone new to use the phone system?”
When she finished, her voice rising, she accentuated each word with a tip of her head that, because it was shaved, somehow made her irritation more noticeable. The fact that she was right about the phones didn’t help anything.
“Fine,” I grumbled, turning and walking back into my office, grabbing my cell off my desk when it rang. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” I tried not to growl.
“Can we meet?” Sutter asked quickly, not exchanging pleasantries.
“Business related?”
“Very much so.”
Sutter, the CEO of Sutter Limited, was a billionaire real-estate mogul who put up resorts and high-end hotels and office buildings all over the world. But most importantly, at the moment he was Owen’s boss.
“I’m in Paris,” I informed him, “so we can just talk and—”
“I’m here as well, so I’ll come to you.”
“I’m at my office. I’ll text you the address. But so you know, I keep a low profile here. Use my private entrance and come without your usual entourage, please.”
“Understood.” The man sounded grave. That meant there was a problem. “I’ll be there shortly.”
After I disconnected, I texted Sutter the address before calling down to my security personnel to expect company. I hated wondering what the hell was going on, which was why, when I was in the position of relating something not everyone could know, I always gave a hint of what was going on so they wouldn’t have to sit and worry until I reached them and we could talk openly. What was more alarming than annoying in this instance was Sutter’s urgency. It wasn’t like him to not just tell me whatever it was, and that would have made me anxious if he wasn’t coming to see me right now.
Walking back to my door, I opened it and leaned out. “Sana,” I said softly, shortening her name, which I seldom did. “Aaron Sutter’s on his way here. When he arrives, will you send him in?”
Her amber eyes settled on my face, all the teasing and banter from earlier gone. “Of course, boss. And I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed.”
“Thank you.”
I went back into my office, realizing after only moments that I was pacing. My phone rang, the call from Darius a welcome distraction.
“Dinner?” he greeted me.
“Yeah, absolutely. Just text me where and when.”
Beats of time went by.
“What’s wrong?” Darius asked.
“I don’t know, but Aaron Sutter just called me out of the blue, and he’s being weird, so…something’s up.”
“And you think it’s Owen?”
“Maybe. What else could it be? We’re not enemies, but we’re certainly not friends, and since I know he’s not inviting me to dinner, I have concerns.”
“Well, give me a call after whatever it is.”
“Will do,” I said, appreciating his friendship, as always.
I had just enough time to put down my phone before the door to my office opened and Aaron walked in, followed closely by his shadow, his bodyguard, Miguel Romero.
“Boss,” Hasana said softly, leaning in. “I already checked with Mr. Sutter and Mr. Romero, and they don’t want anything. Do you need coffee?”
I shook my head. “I’m good, thanks.”
She gave me a slight smile and closed the door.
“Aaron,” I greeted him, holding out my hand.
He clasped my hand tight, his grip firm, his skin warm and dry, meeting my gaze and holding it for a moment before he let go so Miguel could take my hand as well. Most people didn’t get a greeting from Aaron’s longtime bodyguard, but Miguel had been in Army Intelligence the same time I was, and our paths had crossed often. Once he gave me a pat on the arm and I saw how grim he looked, I gestured to the chairs around a coffee table, and they both sat down.
“I know Hasana asked already, but may I offer either of you a drink? I have some very good bourbon.”
“No, thank you. We can’t stay long,” Aaron said.
“You know, with the look you’re giving me, if we were business partners, I’d be worried about my investment. Since we aren’t, I’m thinking you’re the bearer of bad news.”
He pushed forward in his chair, elbows on his knees, eyes on mine. “Owen didn’t check in again yesterday, which makes that two days in a row now, and his bodyguard has also been unreachable.”
I calmed down. Unreachable was okay because it didn’t mean missing. Technically, for me, Owen had been “unreachable” far longer.
“Well, he and I have been fighting, so I certainly haven’t heard from him, but it’s strange that you haven’t. He’s not the kind of guy to go radio silent in the middle of a job.”