Not once, not ever in my current life, or my life before, did I ever choke on my drink because of something someone said to me.
But it happened right there, in the middle of a crowded restaurant, making a couple of heads swivel in our direction, concerned.
Brock silently passed me one of the crimson napkins, and I reached for it, wiping my mouth, trying to give myself a second to think clearly, to come up with something to say to that.
“I was not thinking that,” I insisted, folding up his napkin.
“Baby, you have a lot of skills, but hiding when you’re turned on is not one of them,” he told me.
It was right that moment that our server came back with bread and some kind of oil dip with herbs floating in it, and asked if we were ready to order.
Saving us from letting the conversation continue. Because I had a feeling that it wasn’t going to go well if we did.
We all had our flaws.
And I had a really hard time being called out. My pride wanted me to fight to the bitter, bloody end. I knew me. If it got heated enough, I would have demanded that Tig or Sawyer be put on my case instead of him.
Quite frankly, I would have said that just to save face, not because it was actually what I wanted.
Luckily, I had some menu questions, and our server was chatty.
As she wandered off, my phone bleeped, and I went ahead and let myself be rude and answer Cam.
Better rude than without my private investigator and live-in protection detail.
“I’m sure Cam is holding down the fort,” Brock said as I, admittedly, typed off a never-ending response just to have an excuse not to face Brock again so soon.
“He did a great job while I was… away,” I agreed, tucking the phone away. “I’ve never met anyone who can anticipate needs like he can.”
“Have you given any more thought to what I said about him?” Brock asked.
“I have. And I know you might think it is naive of me, but I am something like ninety-eight percent sure he had nothing to do with this. What would he have to gain if something happened to me? He has no stake in the company, no position in it if I weren’t around. The worst thing that could happen to him would be that I died. He would immediately be out of a job.
“And he would never find one again that would pay him what I do. What?” I asked as his head turned to the side as he looked at me.
“You really have given it a lot of thought, and I’m apt to agree with you when you put it that way. He was willing to pay our fee. That says you pay him at least three times what a normal assistant would ever get.”
“Exactly. But where does that leave us?” I asked.
“There’s still a lot of avenues to look into. I will be getting the videos from the building cameras tomorrow when the super heads out to grab lunch. What?” he asked.
“The super,” I said.
“What about him? You suspect him? Have you had issues with him?”
“Issues might be… pushing it,” I said. “I’ve only directly dealt with him maybe twice. But he’s… this sounds so rude…”
“Trying to murder someone is rude, honey.”
Well, when he put it that way.
“He’s a creep. Or, at least, he gave me creep vibes. He came up to work on my kitchen sink once. And I caught him in my bedroom when I came in.”
“He has access to your room?” Brock asked. “I know they typically have master keys, but you have the private elevator with the keycard.”
“He has an actual key to access the elevator.”
“And your door?”