Page 103 of The Confidant

“This interest is not sexual,” the cold man protests darkly. His tone makes my smile disappear.

I’m ready to turn and snap at him, but Addie is quick with her rebuttal.

“Calm down,ami. I love teasing him like this,” she gives him her happy grin, making me jealous. “It’s good fun, and he can’t get away because we’re married. I meant no harm with it. In fact, that’s an awesome dress!”

“Thanks,” the strawberry blonde grins at her, relaxing out of her defensive stance.

Addie wins people over so easily. Her enthusiasm and compliments are genuine. From the color of the dress, which makes her hair pop, to her light makeup application, which makes her glow, she has the woman soothed in under five seconds.

“So, what’s the interest?” Addie asks after the woman stands tall and proud again.

“Survivors of Tragedy,” he says baldly as if it’s a test.

Addie’s eyes narrow, her protective nature kicking in. “In a public place? Everything hanging out in the wind? For shame, sir.”

Her arms slide from around me, making me frown. I turn to the man responsible with a scowl. His two friends perk up at the darkness of my expression.

Addie sidesteps me to face him head-on.

“Why don’t you hand over whatever fancy card you’ve got, and I’ll make sure he gives you a call?” Her eyebrow goes up as her arms cross over her chest. “No need for a show and tell.”

His eyes move to me. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with someone with no success. It’s unheard of for me. What guarantee do I have that he’ll speak with me later?”

“My love of nagging my husband is your guarantee,” she tells him with a lot of attitude. “And if that isn’t enough, nothing ever will be.”

The unshaven man leans over and whispers something. The cold guy nods and digs out a card. He tries to hand it to me, but Addie takes it from him with a smile.

“No handling the merchandise, sir,” she tells him primly. “He’s delicate.”

“Siren,” I warn her. I try to sound stern, but it comes across as pleased and a little resigned.

“Takin’ you at your word,” the unshaven guy gives her a nod with a crooked smile.

“You got it,” she returns in surprise. An instant friendship made from two different accents forms in front of me.

Addie’s brows start to furrow as she looks between them. “Is this an emergency situation? Likeright now, right now?”

What did she see to make her think that? I assumed he was the same overbearing businessman type I’ve dealt with most of my life. My brows furrow as I look at them again, my scowl fading to contemplation.

“Not yet,” the cold guy replies. “I’d like to catch it before that.”

Addie nods, giving me a concerned look over her shoulder.

“You call Mr. Matthias first thing tomorrow, yappy dog.”

She’s the only one who can issue that kind of demand and get a positive response.

The man winces and mutters, “Call me Gabriel. I’ve changed my last name to Jefferson, but the cards haven’t come in yet.”

He sounds as if he hates his previous last name and can’t wait to finish getting away from it. I felt the same once.

I legally changed my name as soon as I got money. Anything to distance myself from everything in my life felt good. I wonder if he feels that way. If so, I hope it gives him more relief than it gave me. Changing my name didn’t stop the media from hounding me, or my life from intruding on my peace.

That one fact about this man evokes an odd kind of kinship that sells me on his determination.

I take the card Addie is holding out for me and give him a nod.

“Tomorrow morning. Eight,” I say, curious despite myself.

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