Page 66 of Almost Perfect
He nodded, like that was a decent start. “Okay. And I’m sorry to ask this, but it has to be done, and I know he won’t ask you.”
My pulse ticked up. “Go ahead.”
“Is your life as Miss Mayhem going to affect Wyatt? Is he going to get any blowback by being seen with you or anything?”
Little daggers stabbed at the heart of me.Ouch. I hadn’t seen that question coming, but it shouldn’t have surprised me. As sweet as Warrick seemed, he was also practical and cautious and very protective of his family.
“I don’t think so. The only people who know I’m here are my assistant back in LA, Wyatt’s friends we saw at dinner the other night, your family, and Julian Grenier.” Not exactly covert, but small enough.
“Grenier? How does he know?”
Clearly, Warrick recognized the billionaire tech genius’s name. “He lent me his plane to get here. We met years back and, long story short, he got me here under the radar so I didn’t have to fly through Salt Lake City last minute.”
There definitely hadn’t been a small airport in Silverton when I lived here. When I’d told Kristoffer I wanted to come home, he’d quickly discovered the option, that Grenier had his hand in all kinds of businesses here, and reached out to him. The man had always struck me as a very odd duck, but I was one too. He’d immediately agreed, and we’d had a flight plan within twenty-four hours. When I’d offer to pay, his assistant had said I could simply owe him a favor.
What I could do for Grenier, I had no idea. He already had connections in the industry as a close friend of Jamie Morris’s and several other big names, but I didn’t mind. Or, I tried not to. I’d gone through the early years of my life owing “favors” to plenty of photographers and producers, so the idea of owing a man like Grenier didn’t exactly sit well. Thankfully, his reputation was good, and the negative comments I’d heard centered around his brusque approach to personal interactions.
“That guy.”
Warrick’s tone sounded irritated, which was a little like the sun darkening on a cloudless day.
“You don’t like him?”
He made a noncommittal sound. “I don’t know him personally, but he’s been busy since he showed up on the scene a few years ago. He’s got his hands in all the major businesses, it seems like, with the exception of All Saints and a small group of others. Just makes me feel like he’s planning something or… I don’t know.”
Warrick struck me as a man who was innately trusting and positive, so the idea that he couldmistrustsomeone without knowing them came as a true shock. “I’ve only heard good things, but I admittedly haven’t dealt with him all that much. It’s usually my assistant talking to his.”
“Well, point is, sounds like you and Wy won’t get out unless you start traipsing through town. And based on the weather, you won’t be going anywhere for a few days.”
The thought struck then. Would Warrick be there tonight? “Will you be up at the ranch for the storm?”
His eyebrows jumped like he knew exactly what I was asking. “Planning to put the moves on my brother and need me out of the way?”
“I—”
“I’m just kidding, Calla. Come on. That’s not my business.” He chuckled and shook his head like my horrified attempt to explain was adorable.
“Okay.” I let out a pent-up laugh. “Good.”
He shifted the conversation away from me and Wyatt, thankfully, evidently appeased enough about my intentions to let it go. By the time we parked and wandered over to Guac, I’d heard all about how Jane was using the local dating app Wyatt had used, and a little about Warrick’s plans for the boot camp classes, which would start in just a few weeks. Before we reached the place, he waved at a couple locked arm in arm, whistled, told them to get a room. When he turned to me, he winked and said, “Cody and Charlotte are newlyweds.”
Apparently in Silverton, that meant you got harassed by Warrick Saint after the big day. Duly noted.
We knocked our boots off inside the door of the restaurant, and I followed Warrick into the bright dining space. The host led us to a booth in the corner where Sarah and Dahlia greeted us with friendly hellos. Sarah’s long golden hair was a stark contrast to Dahlia’s darker features and curly brown hair.
“Ladies, this is Calla, as you know. I think we’re waiting on—oh, hey!”
Warrick cut himself off and jogged back toward the entrance where I recognized Sadie Miller standing. He approached, his hands by his side, and his usual rolling, light energy seemed to flatten itself against a wall the closer he got. Since only a few other people sat at tables around the main dining space, we could hear him say, “Why don’t you join the group? You met Calla, and she’s trying to get to know some locals. You might remember Sarah, though I think we were too young for you to—”
“I have to go, sorry.” She grabbed the bag of takeout the host handed her, turned on her heel, and left. Apparently the take-out window was closed today.
Warrick scrubbed his hands through his hair, staring after her, then pivoted and walked back toward us. The three of us, who’d unanimously silenced our hellos and watched the scene, flipped around and studied our menus.
“Thought maybe she’d join, but she’s got plans. Not sure if Quinn can come today. I heard the schools were debating an early release, so that may change her schedule.” He scratched his cheek and gazed out the window where the snow fell, heavy and consistent.
I hoped we’d get back up the canyon okay.
“Is she a teacher?”
