Page 8 of Faking it with the Billionaire
He exhales a nervous laugh.
Sweat glistens on his forehead.
“Is that really necessary?” He reaches into his pocket for his handkerchief and dabs his forehead.
What is he hiding?
“You tell me,” I say, refusing to let my gaze waver. “Break it down for me. What happened between Bristol and Liam on school grounds?”
He nods and shuffles back to his desk. Finding the leather chair, he sits, his stare constantly moving around the room. He’s anxious, but I can’t tell if it’s out of guilt or fear. What do the Morettis have on him?
“The two children are in the same class together. Liam sits behind Bristol and thought it would be fun to lift her chair with his feet. It was just a little harmless flirting.” The headmaster waves his hand dismissively. “She took things too far.”
“What did Bristol do?”
“She punched him.”
I bite down on my bottom lip to keep from saying something I shouldn’t. I have a plethora of questions, but I have the sneaking suspicion that there is more to the story that the headmaster is leaving out.
“I will speak with Bristol,” I say, “and with Mr. Greyson when I bring her home this evening. When did this incident occur?”
“Friday.”
I’d already had the job with Kyler Greyson lined up well before last Friday, which means the incident with the Moretti family either goes further back or something else is the threat to Bristol and Kyler.
* * *
After I finish discussing the situation regarding the children, I make it clear I need to see the security measures that are put in place. It was obvious that I was able to easily walk up and into the school.
Whether the Moretti family is the threat or not, I need to know that Bristol is safe in her classroom.
Convinced that Bristol isn’t in any immediate danger, I return to the town car, and the gentleman opens the back door for me. “Mr. Greyson has asked you to meet him at the ice hockey arena.”
The stadium hires its own private security, so I’m a bit taken aback by his request for me to meet him at the venue.
“Did he say what it was about?” I ask, hoping to gather at least some information before arriving.
Mitchell isn’t particularly forthcoming. He merely shakes his head and shuts my car door before he steps around to the front of the vehicle.
I glance at my phone. There are no messages from Kyler or any of the Eagle Tactical team. Declan assigned me the job, but he hasn’t called or texted. Not that I expect him to check in and see how things are going. I’m plenty capable of handling the assignment.
I shove my phone into my purse. My stomach tenses, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m leaving Bristol behind at school, where I know she’s as safe as she can be, or the fact that something just doesn’t feel right.
What is Kyler hiding? It has to be something. There’s no reason that his life would otherwise be in danger, or rather, his daughter’s.
I need to know what the actual threat is and whether it’s credible. How can I be expected to do my job in the dark?
The ice hockey arena is on the opposite side of town. We’re ushered in through a side entrance, and Kyler stalks out of the building on our approach.
He yanks open the back door for me just as the town car comes to a halt.
“You’re late,” Kyler says, like it’s my fault for driving too slow.
There was traffic, and I had to make sure Bristol was safe before leaving her at school. “You neglected to mention we had an appointment,” I say, stepping out of the vehicle.
He slams the door shut behind me. His dark gaze rakes over my body for a little too long. His jaw is tight. He’s tense. I imagine he never gets any time off between work and being a single father.
“Did you bother checking your phone?” he asks and holds out his hand, palm up.
