Mind your own business, Ballantyne. She’s a client, nothing more.
But there was definitely something odd about the very gorgeous Ms. Mills, Jaeger decided as he watched her walk across his office and yank open the door. She turned back to look at him and lifted her index finger to point at him. “I’m trusting you to look after my stones. Trusting you, after everything that’s happened, is a very big deal for me, Ballantyne.”
Before he could reply, she walked out of his office. Jaeger stared at his half-open door, feeling like she was leaving him with just a few pieces of a puzzle.
He’d find the missing pieces, he thought, sitting back down behind his desk. He’d start by running her name through as many databases as he had access to and see what popped up.
Because, he was damn sure, something would.
* * *
Why hadn’t she called Jaeger on his BS?
The question played on repeat in her head, like nails on a chalkboard, since she’d hurried out of Jaeger’s office eight hours before. Why hadn’t she mentioned their past to get it out in the open? Why did she go along with his I’ve-never-met-you-before attitude?
Piper turned the corner onto her street, her tote over one shoulder and her arms around two brown sacks of baby food and diapers. And chocolate... After a day like today, she needed chocolate. Baby food, diapers and chocolate... God, her life was so exciting.
Not.
Well, it had been! Back when she was with that six-foot-something slab of sexiness... No, that wasn’t what she meant to think! Dammit! So why didn’t you say anything about the time you spent together in Milan, Mills? What was with that nonsense?
Piper shifted her sacks and tried to blow a curl out of her eye. Pride...pride was a factor. She’d wanted him to mention Milan, to be the one to go there, to say how nice it was to see her again. She’d wanted him to ask if he could take her to dinner...to bed. She’d never thought, not once, not even after he’d shut her out completely, that she’d be so utterly forgettable.
And, man, it killed her—in a dagger-to-the-heart way—that he didn’t remember her. Spending the night with him was a highlight of her life. Conversely, she was, for him, a forgettable experience in what was obviously a long line of sexual encounters.
And Jaeger forgetting her, forgetting about Milan, made all her feelings around her father and his neglect bubble to the surface. She was an adult, and she should have been over feeling hurt by Mick’s actions, but she couldn’t help remembering the times she’d opened the door to him and watched him struggle to remember her name. Her mother and whatever she gave Mick were important to him, not Piper. When her mom died, her father stopped visiting the house in Brooklyn altogether, and the only time he’d spoken to Piper after the funeral was to demand she give him the sapphires.
She’d lived with rejection all her life. Jaeger not remembering her was just another version of the same thing.
That being said, Jaeger’s actions still didn’t make sense. Why the pretense? They’d agreed to keep it businesslike when they met again, so why not take her calls right after Milan? Why did he go to such lengths to ignore her and then pretend not to remember her?
What game was he playing?
Maybe she should’ve avoided Jaeger altogether and gone directly to Moreau’s. Why hadn’t she?
Jaeger paid better, according to Mr. Hendricks, than all the other gem dealers. She’d also, in Milan, promised Jaeger she’d bring the stones to him. Thanks to her father being a thief, it was important that she kept her promises. Piper strongly believed in keeping her word, in doing the right thing.
So, was not telling Jaeger about Ty the right thing to do?
The thought slammed into her, holding all the power of a rogue wave. Of course it was. Meeting Jaeger again changed nothing! She knew, everyone knew, that Jaeger wasn’t daddy material. He’d openly admitted a wife and kids weren’t part of his plans.
There was nothing worse than knowing who your parent was and knowing he didn’t care enough to be a part of your life. Piper wouldn’t put her son in the same position she’d been in.
Approaching her house, she pushed the wrought iron gate open with her hip and noticed her lemon verbena and geraniums needed water and the pots needed repainting. Yeah, that probably wouldn’t be happening anytime soon.