He growled softly. “Don’t lie to me. Especially when it’s obvious you’re anything but fine. What happened? Did someone upset you?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Lacey.” No way was he going to allow her to brush him off. And if the way she glared up at him was any indication, she’d realized the same thing.
“It was just my last client, that’s all,” she finally told him, before reaching for a tissue from the box on her desk. Her desk had changed. Instead of just a pen, notebook, and laptop, it now held a box of tissues and a small bunch of flowers in a vase.
Who’d given her the flowers? Was it a male friend? Who was he? He had to work hard to contain his surge of jealousy.
“Nice flowers.”
“One of my clients brought them in for me,” she said, looking at them with a small smile. “Mrs. Stepman.”
The jealousy dissipated and he felt a little sheepish. “I’m glad we found her son.”
“Me too.” She delicately patted under her nose.
He grabbed a tissue and held it up to her nose. “Blow.”
She looked startled then shook her head. “No.” She attempted to snatch the tissue away.
He pulled it back then gave her a firm look. He ran the tissue under her nose, noting the way she’d narrowed her eyes angrily. Well, that was better than the sad, lost look she’d had before.
“I can blow my own damn nose.”
“I figured that. But I don’t like that you’re upset. And since you won’t tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it, the only thing I can do is care for you.”
She just stared at him for a moment. “I can’t reveal anything told to me in confidence.”
“No. I’m guessing it was your last client that caused this? So . . . Jenna Jasons.” Jenna had been kidnapped and held for ransom. Her father was an extremely wealthy man. Black-Gray had helped rescue her, but not before she’d been beaten to within an inch of her life. Unfortunately, her kidnapper hadn’t been found.
“I’m trying to help her remember anything about her time in captivity. It’s harrowing.”
To say the least. Listening to that young girl speak of her ordeal would affect even the hardest of people. And beneath that cool, calm exterior he was beginning to realize Lacey felt things deeply. He’d been a bit worried she was too cold to deal sympathetically with their clients, but they had nothing but praise for her.
“Ah, baby.” He pulled her up, ignoring her surprised look then led her to the sofa and chairs in the corner of the room. Sitting, he placed her on his lap.
She stiffened, looking at him in surprise. “This isn’t appropriate.”
“Screw appropriate,” he told her. “Lean in. Cry if you want to. My shirt can take it.”
She let out a quiet laugh. “But can I take the humiliation of crying all over you?”
“There’s nothing wrong with letting go and having a good cry every once in a while.”
“Yeah, do you want to cry all over my shirt? I’m sure it can take it.”
“Smartass,” he told her, glad to see a small smile on her face. “Bottling up your feelings and emotions isn’t healthy.”
“Sometimes letting them all pour out isn’t that healthy either.” She’d closed down on him, and he wondered at such a strong reaction. She tried to pull away from his hold. “I need to write up my notes.”
He’d come in here to tell her she didn’t have to hide from him. That she wasn’t in any danger of having him pounce on her like a ravenous lion who’d spotted a gazelle. Instead, he had her nestled all sweetly on his lap, or he had until he’d said the wrong thing.
“I really need to get back to work, Gray.”
“I’m the owner, I make the rules.”
“I don’t think Hunter would be too impressed with you paying me to sit on your lap.”