Theo turned frustrated eyes on her and Raquel nodded urgently. “I know. Stupid suggestion. Forget I said that.”
“When did you last see her?” He prompted, trying to keep cool even as a sense of dark foreboding spread through him like spilled lava.
“Around the time desserts came out,” Raquel said softly. “She went to the bathroom and I got us some treats and then she never came back.”
The noise that came from Elena was half-groan, half-cry. She lifted a hand to her lips and her fingers were trembling. “The bathroom?”
“Yes, mother, she is human too you know.” Theo snapped tersely, dragging a hand through his hair and trying her number again. It went straight to voicemail.
“What is it, Elena?” Raquel’s attention was focused on the older woman and she saw something akin to guilt on her beautiful features.
“I … Oh, God. I think I know what might have … where she might have gone.” And Elena reached behind her, moving slowly until she connected with a chair and sat in it heavily. “Oh, God.”
“What? What happened?” Raquel prompted, her eyes zipping to Theo’s. He was ashen, barely-contained fury masked by his features.
“What did you say to her?”
“Nothing. I didn’t say anything to her.” She squeezed her eyes shut, sucking in a deep breath. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Only, I was upset. Angry.”
Theo moved closer, crouching down purely so that their conversation would remain private. “What happened?”
Elena met his eyes but there was not so much as a wink of defiance in her guilt-ridden expression. “I had no idea she was in there,” Elena promised. “But now, I think I do remember a door being shut. I should have checked. I should have…”
“What happened?” Theo interrupted, the words cold and thick with impatience.
“Marie followed me. She was upset. We talked and I think, it’s possible, that if Imogen was in the stall and she overheard, I think it’s possible, highly likely, actually, that she might have been offended by what we discussed.”
Fierce, red-hot fury soared in his chest but he contained it. He focused on his goal. He needed to get to Imogen and arrest this damage but he could only do that if he knew exactly what he was up against. “Tell me everything.”
It was patently obvious that Elena would rather lick dog excrement off the pavement but she stayed where she was and, to her credit, relayed the conversation in its entirety.
Theo listened, his mind taking the information and processing it first from his own perspective and secondly from Imogen’s.
“How did you know I’d drawn up a custody agreement?” He asked at the end, his expression impassive. Only the flare of his nostrils showed the depth of his feelings.
“Alfie’s secretary called me on another matter. It … slipped out,” Elena murmured.
“That is seriously unethical,” he snapped angrily, but then, he looked at Raquel and concern overrode every other emotion. “What should I do?”
The simple question, combined with his uncharacteristic look of uncertainty, pulled hard on Raquel’s heart strings.
“Find her,” she said, reaching out and squeezing his arm. “And fix it.”
Theo nodded, spinning on his heel and stalking through the restaurant.
It was excellent advice but he feared it would fall squarely into the Easier Said Than Done column.
CHAPTER TWELVE
A WEEK LATER, AND he knew his first instinct had been right.
Imogen was impossible to find. How could he fix the situation if he couldn’t even speak to her? He drummed his fingers along the leather inlay of his desk, staring out at London Bridge, trying to remember everything she’d ever told him. He had replayed their every conversation ad infinitum, looking at them for clues of where she might have gone to. Friends she’d mentioned? Spots she liked to visit?
And drew blank after blank after Goddamned blank.
How could he know so little about her?
How had he listened to her without joining the dots? Why hadn’t he paid better attention?