“You go first,” I say once we’re back downstairs, and shoo Margot gently toward the banquet hall. “But you’re seeing me later.”
Pouting her lips, she blows me a subtle kiss and heads in without a word.
I kill a few minutes checking my phone. With a quick text to Corey, my new cyber guy who commands outrageous fees, I start my own investigation.
Oddly enough, I’ve never met Corey. Couldn’t pick him out of a lineup. Hell, I’m not even sure he’s in the US. But Corey is one of the best. Austin's assurance was all I needed.
These types of investigations are Corey's playground. How Austin knew that, I really didn't want to know. Corey's focus is people, primarily. He runs with a crowd who don’t have business cards or phone numbers. Hell, most of these ghosts don’t even have names.
Usually, these keyboard warriors roam the underbelly of the World Wide Web, known only by a descriptive alias. Deathstar. BlackSkull. HiddenTiger. PrettyKitty1972.
Super secret. Cloaked in darkness.
But not Corey.
To my surprise, Corey Dantes, or CD for communications purposes, gave me his full name and cell phone number up front when I first contacted him, along with a bank account number.
“You’ll never see me,” he wrote. “We’ll never meet. Cash goes into my account, and my rates are nonnegotiable. You’re the first person I investigate because I need to know who I’m working with. As long as you’re good with that, so am I.”
Lo and behold, Corey and his dark-web ways have been a huge asset and are perfect for this new game of fetch.
coop: Urgent job. Get with Austin. Recheck our staff, but only the ones who’ve been at the Long Multinational negotiations this past week.
cd: Situation?
coop: Media leaks. Fast ones. First one was Tuesday. Within minutes of me leaving a meeting.
cd: This one?
Mystery Tycoon Liam Cooper Byrne storms from negotiations with Long Multinational
coop: Yes.
cd: Got it. They even put your name in it. Unfortunate.
I take in his last word. Of course, Corey knows about the Alliance. But until this very second, I didn’t really consider the impact of the news story. Ignoring other questions on my mind, I go with the most pressing issue at hand.
coop: How soon?
cd: How many people?
coop: Less than a dozen.
cd: Standard answer. Standard $.
Standard answer? Soon, which could be hours. Maybe days. Never more than that.
Standard rate? This investigation, with that many people on it and that deep of a dig? Quickly, I do the calculations in my head. Over six figures.
Without hesitation, I click the round blue app icon with the letters CD centered in it. A few keystrokes later, I know the fee is paid, the funds verified and transferred instantly, and any trace will be gone in thirty seconds.
cd: Received. I’ll be in touch.
With that out of the way, I flip-flop between being relieved Allison hasn’t texted, to wondering why she hasn’t. Checking the time, I realize I’ve been gone a while.
But when I peek into the banquet hall, my heart absolutely swells. There she stands, chatting it up with smiles and laughter, looking like she belongs with the up-and-comers of Dallas.
The smile that tugs until my cheeks hurt instantly falls to a scowl. The tall guy who has his arm around my niece’s waist has about ten seconds to back away slowly.
Ten. Nine. Eight—
“Don’t freak, Grandpa. She’s fine.”
I turn around, feigning a scowl at the woman who dares to mock my misery. “Here’s the difference between you and me, Evelyn—”
“Evie.”
“Evie,” I say, welcoming a relaxed friendship between us. “Look at him. You see an up-and-coming professional with tons of potential and a bright future.”
Lifting a brow, she corrects me. “And a hot-blooded young man with one percent body fat and a cock ready to tear out of his pants and ride her up against the nearest wall.”
Shocked, I’m sure my disbelief is blaring through my wide, freaked-out eyes and dropped jaw. “What the hell, Evie? Don’t you see I’m on the brink of losing my shit, breaking them apart and then dragging her ass home like she’s a fourteen-year-old I caught necking?”
Evie gives me a saucy grin. “Yup. That’s what makes it hysterical. By the way, party-patrol dad, you might want to zip up your fly before you do.”
I spin around to check, sighing as I realize Evie just got the better of me with the oldest trick in the book. Now she knows.
“And don’t worry,” she says when I turn back around. “I already threatened Gabe to within an inch of his career and his balls.”
“You did?”
“Sure did,” she says, nodding. “Which was awkward as fuck because his mother was my nanny. The kid practically grew up at my house.”
My deadpan face breaks into a wide smile as she knocks my elbow with hers.
“So, now when I say there’s no need to worry, you can believe me. Right?”
“Right.”
As I glance over her shoulder, the sight of an older man stepping over to join us wipes any amusement from my face.
“Good evening, Evie,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “You look beautiful.”
The two of them hug, which doesn’t stop my glare at the six-foot-four giant. I’d know him anywhere. It’s Everett fucking Long.
It isn’t until Everett steps back from Evie that his eyes seemed to spark—perhaps with recognition—and narrow on mine.
“Evie,” Everett says, his grip just below her shoulders. “I need a huge favor. Grab me a drink. Between Margot and Jean’s eagle eyes on me, I can’t get close to the bar.”
“You’ve got it.” Evie dons a devious grin, rubbing her hands together with glee. “Oh, but let me introduce you—”
“It’s fine,” I say, reassuring her with a light tap on the shoulder. “I’ll do the honors.”
Giddy, Evie scurries away, apparently thrilled at the task, and leaves me with the man I’d love to take down.
“You must be Coop,” Everett drawls, his easy tone the polar opposite of how I feel. “I’ve been hearing your name around the party tonight.”
“To my friends, I’m Coop.” The disdain in my voice is apparent. “To the rest of the world, Mr. Long, I’m Liam Cooper Byrne.”
I have no idea what to expect with the revelation that I know his name. A heated glare. A melodramatic gasp. Even, maybe, Everett walking away. Strangely, his eyes soften, giving the man a genuine look of surprise.
Well, that was anticlimactic.
After a strange silence passes between us, Everett finally speaks. “Are you . . . Lily’s boy?” he asks, his face filling with wonder.
Suspicious and now cautious, I narrow my eyes. “That’s right,” I say slowly, masking my surprise. “You ask that like you know my mom.” That, or he’s just hurled the first warning shot for the mind-fucks to come.
Everett’s stammering is interrupted as Evie slips a lowball in his hand. “Bourbon neat. But if anyone catches you—”
“Catches you what?” Margot asks as she joins us, giving the foreboding man one hell of a stink-eye.
Casually, Evie takes the glass containing two fingers of liquor from Everett, gives it a swirl, then sips. “Thanks for holding that for me.”
The little game of pass-the-glass makes me smile, lessening the building tension from seconds ago. And Margot being this close is all I need to drop my shoulders and relax my stance.
The subtle smile breaking from her scolding glare is so damn kissable, my gaze automatically drops to her neck and shoulders, daring to scan the curves of her body before I can help myself. My lazy stare focuses as I step slightly behind her and notice her zipper. The teeth are pulling apart. Its hold won’t last long.
“Margot, you’re shivering. Are you cold? Here.” Without waiting for a response, I slide off my suit jacket and drape it over her shoulders, then instantly back away, giving us distance to keep people from wondering.
“Yes,” she says, quickly picking up on my insistent hint. “Thank you. I haven’t been feeling well.” Tugging the collar close against her neck, she shivers noticeably, most likely for her father’s benefit. “I was actually going to head out a little early and lie down.”
I can’t hide all of my smile. Always a temptress.
“My driver’s waiting if you need him.” Everett steps close to feel her forehead, taking a few good presses as he checks her eyes.
“I’m fine. I brought my car, and I hate being fussed over.”
“I don’t like you driving if you’re not feeling well,” he says, asserting himself with a paternal tone, but I interject.
“I’m happy to drive. My car’s outside, and I was about to take off, but . . .” I raise my hand, giving a rushed wave across the room, a gentle summons for Allison. My gesture is caught by the helpful man now nudging her our way. “I really wanted to introduce you to my niece.”
As Allison approaches, Margot’s smile lifts. “We’ve met,” she says enthusiastically, greeting Allison with a warm smile and light embrace. “I had a chance to speak with her while you were taking forever to get back to our party.” Margot’s smirk is well played as she directs her next words to Allison. “Don’t be a workaholic like your uncle.”
“Yeah,” Evie says, pointing the now empty glass of whiskey wildly at them. “All work and no play make you a bore . . . with premature wrinkles. And gives you a stick up your a—”
“Evie,” Margot says softly, “you might need a ride too, since I believe that’s your second double.” Her hand chases Evie’s wandering one, capturing the glass. “Coop, would you mind? We’re actually right around the corner from each other.”
“Not at all.”
Tipsy and amused, Evie purses her lips, tightening her giggle. Not so quietly, she apologetically whispers, “Sorry, Mr. Long.”
“Yes,” Margot says, smoothing her words. “Sorry, Dad. No booze for the guy with an overexcited ticker.”
Surprised, I zero in on the comment. He has a heart condition?
Setting a plan in motion to tear down a bastard like Everett Long was easier just a moment ago. But watching Margot wrap her arms around the man in an affectionate hug does something to me. Tugs at me more than I thought possible.
Margot’s not a pawn. And seeing how she dotes on her father—a man I’ve never met before tonight and always hated—does it change things? Sure, they share the same last name, but imagining a close relationship between them was easy to dismiss. Until now. Because maybe she needs him just as much. And perhaps he needs her.
Everything I learned about Margot online painted the picture of a woman who hasn’t been close to her family—and not involved with the company at all until now. Was it because of Everett’s health? Has he stepped down?
The more I watch them, the more it’s clear. Hurting him means hurting her. Margot loves him.
But something else is clear too. I can see by the look in her eyes and the death grip she’s got on the lapels of my jacket, that dress could blow at any second. Margot’s hands grab each side of the jacket, pulling it tightly around her.
“Why don’t we head out. Alli—” Turning around, I find my sweet little niece with Gabe’s hold comfortably around her waist.
Seriously? This kid’s not scared of losing his career or balls?
“Actually, I’m happy to take Alli home.” Before I can object, Gabe continues at his own risk. “I was a TA for several of her early classes while I worked my way through school.”
“Gabe also helped me get through the bar,” Allison says, making the point for my benefit, no doubt.
“Totally untrue,” Gabe says with a smile and a shake of his head. “I just gave you some tips of the trade. You did all the heavy lifting. And you totally killed it, just like I knew you would.”
The man brags about Allison’s accomplishment as if it were his own. The two of them exchange a sweet, silent glance, eliciting an eye roll from me.
Goddammit. I can’t hate this kid. He adores her.
Innocently, Allison bats those big, brown, puppy-dog eyes my way, eyes that are always my downfall. As if she needs permission. Still, a part of me clings to the little girl who will always need my approval.
Opening my arms wide, I welcome her in for a good-night bear hug, not giving a damn how it looks to anyone.
“I know what you’re about to ask,” I whisper in her ear. “And it’s completely up to you.” Releasing her, I extend a welcoming hand, shaking Gabe’s firm grip. “It’s great to meet you, Gabe.”
“Likewise, sir.”
“Mr. Byrne,” Everett says, gazing at me with an intensity that hardens his light blue eyes. “Let’s get together this upcoming week. Just the two of us.”
You bet your ass, we will. “Sounds like a plan.”