Page 80 of Songbird: Black Kite
“I’ll need everything you know about her. The more, the better. No one makes a move until we have more information,” he added, glaring at Alex, who had the balls to look offended.
“Hey, I can keep a fuckin’ secret.” When we only stared at him skeptically, he huffed and crossed his arms. “You fuckers don’t even know how good I am at secrets.”
“And one more thing,” Charlie went on, ignoring Alex’s pout. “Someone has to tell Mick. He needs to be prepared to get ahead of this. If it turns out that Hawk really does have a secret love child, the press will have a fucking field day.”
Once we’d all agreed that telling our manager would be my job, the guys all left, Charlie to get started on all the work he now needed to do, and Gavin just going home. Alex, on the other hand, wouldn’t tell us what he was doing for the rest of the day, instead looking down his nose at us and declaring, “It’s a secret,” before flouncing out the door.
Once my house was empty again, I retreated back to the study, settling myself at the desk and picking up the ultrasound photo.
Was that my child? Had I actually met Wren the night she came to the concert? And if I had, why hadn’t she told me who she was? She was so vibrant and bold in her letters; it was hard to believe I’d come in contact with her—fuckin’ slept with her—and had no memory of it beyond the flashes of her hazel eyes and some music that never left me.
Holding the photo in one hand, I let my other hand fall to the bracelet, spinning the beads idly while I considered.
“Oh, Wren,” I whispered out loud. “What the hell have you been up to all these years?”
Chapter forty-eight
Wren
Present
“Wren,I’mreadytohead out,” Daniel called from his office, the sound of his keys jingling as he made his way down the hall. “You finished?”
“Just about,” I said, furiously typing the final lines of the email I had been working on and hitting send. “There. All done. Hopefully that will tide Mr. Jacobson over until Monday. The man is relentless with his revisions.”
“That’s why I’m so glad to have you,” Daniel laughed, leaning against the reception desk while I shut down the computer and made sure the phones were switched to our away message. “Because I just do not have the patience to deal with people like him.”
“The man is a special case, that’s for sure.” Gathering my things, I slipped on my jacket and met Daniel at the door. “What kind of person changes their willthatoften?”
“The kind that wants to make sure everyone in his family stays on their toes.” Daniel punched in the alarm code, then we both scuttled out the door and on to the sidewalk. I waited while he locked the door, then walked with him to the far side of the parking lot where we parked our cars. “It’s a good way to find out if someone is only spending time with you for your money.”
“That makes me glad I don’t have any money,” I argued. “No one will be getting anything from me when I die, so anyone who spends time with me does it for the sheer joy of being in my company.” I added an eye roll for good measure, but Daniel knew me well enough by now to know my sense of humor bordered on the dark. It was one of the reasons we worked so well together; he just got me.
“I certainly value your company,” Daniel teased, his shoulder brushing mine as we walked. “Surely, you know that by now.”
“I appreciate it. And you’re not half bad yourself.”
We stopped walking, having reached the spot where my ancient brown sedan was parked. It looked ridiculous next to Daniel’s brand-new SUV, but that sort of thing had stopped bothering me years ago. Now, I was just grateful for the fact that the damn thing started every day. Anything more than that was unnecessary.
“Well,” I said, putting my bag into the back seat and then opening the driver’s door. “Have a great weekend. I’ll make sure the documents for the Langdon property are all ready for Monday.”
“Wren,” Daniel said, shaking his head. “You do know what a weekend is, don’t you? It’s a time to relax and unwind, not get ahead for the next week.”
“Yeah, that’s nice in theory, but I can’t get behind, or else I’ll be buried in paperwork by Wednesday afternoon.”
“Come out with me tonight,” he said suddenly, and my stomach sank. “Let me take you to dinner. We can have a drink, stay out late. What do you say?”
What did I say? I said that there was a mountain of laundry waiting at home for me, which I planned on folding while I watched serial killer documentaries and drank a glass of wine.
“Thanks, Daniel,” I said with a tired smile, trying to make sure he got the message, but at the same time, didn’t actually feel rejected. “But I really do need to get home. Cooper is waiting for me, and I promised her I’d pick her up after practice.”
“Well, maybe some other time, then?” he pressed, and I bit back a wince.
Because I didn’twantthere to be another time. I wanted to keep our lovely working relationship exactly as it was, with casual office banter and camaraderie. Not...whatever this was turning into.
Because I couldn’t afford to lose this job, and there was no way I was going to jeopardize my employment for dinner and a boring lay. I was smarter than that.
At least,nowI was.
