Page 71 of Quiet Protector
For now, it’s working. Phillipa is a slave driver. Her work ethics are paying off, though. Not only have we discovered Isaac isn’t just making payments to the Popovs, he’s been dipping his toes into the Petretti conglomerate as well. We have statements going back years. Although the recipient’s surname isn’t Petretti, she has clear ties with them.
As does Alex, Grayson’s brother, and my once supervisor.
I close the screen of Tobias’s laptop and replace it with my own when Harlow floats my way again. I get her bakery is a little quiet, but I’d rather her focus not be on me. “Have you heard from Izzy at all today?”
“No. Why would I hear from Izzy?”It’s not like she has time for anyone not named Isaac.
I grow panicked I said my last comment out loud when Harlow kicks me again. This time, she aims for my shin instead of my boots. “Okay, Snappy McWhappy. No need to get nasty. Anyone would swear you’re on your period.”
I wish it were that simple.
Even knowing I shouldn’t nibble at the bait Harlow is throwing out, I can’t help myself. I told Tobias I’d keep Isabelle safe. You’re probably not surprised to hear I’ve done a shit job of it. “Sorry. Long night. What’s up with Izzy? Is she okay?”
“Yeah…” Harlow screws up her nose. “… I think so.” I almost whine when she slots into the seat across from me. That indicates she’s settling in for the long haul. “We went clubbing last night.” Her comment both shocks and surprises me. Cormack isn’t as bad as Isaac when it comes to alpha-male possessiveness, but he’s a close second. “Isaac found out.” See?What more proof do you need.“My source isn’t reliable, but I heard Izzy went home with him.”
“Is that unusual? They’re practically living together.” My intel is as unfounded as Harlow’s, but I’m running with it.
Harlow pulls a face. I don’t know her well enough to tell you which one. “They kind of were… until the gala.”
“What happened at the gala?” If it’s anything like the set of circumstances I faced, I’m a worse friend than I realized.
To make sure her news isn’t shared with anyone but Isabelle’s supposed ‘closest friends,’ Harlow leans to my side of the table. “Clara made assumptions Isaac couldn’t deny. It’s been rough.”
“Isaac cheated on Isabelle?” When Harlow halfheartedly shrugs, I snap, “This isn’t an accusation you should be throwing around without facts, Harlow. Shit like this can really fuck up a man, so you need to be sure.”
Her face goes stonewalled in an instant. “I’m not making assumptions. Other than talking to you,Izzy’s friend, I haven’t murmured a peep to anyone. I wouldn’t even be talking to you if I wasn’t worried about her.”
“Have you tried ringing her?”
She slaps me up the side of the head with a tea towel. “I’ve tried numerous times this morning. I’ve not yet had any luck.” She does a weird head-bobbing thing while glaring at me. “Why do you think I came to you?” After sliding out of the booth, she adds a threat to her glare. “Keep this between us, dickwad, or I’ll cut yours off.”
Not only does her quick departure stop me from voicing a comeback, so does the buzz of my cell phone. I assume it’s another message from Grayson telling me to pull my head out of my ass, so you can imagine my surprise when I notice it’s from the private investigator I still have following Melody.
My already pissy attitude drops even further when I open his message. There’s no text. Just an image.A gut-wrenching image. It shows Melody and Julian hugging outside of her office building. They look super friendly like they’ve never been apart.
As I tighten my grip on my phone, I glare at the smidge of Julian’s face not buried in Melody’s neck. I want to hate the guy, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t. He helped Melody like I couldn’t and loved her enough to take a 1.5-million-dollar hit, so maybe he’s more suited for her than me?
With my mood too low to handle more of Grayson’s antics, I hit the end call button on my cell when his face pops up on the screen of my phone two seconds later.
He tries another three times before I finally succumb to his annoying nature. “Have you ever heard of a day off?” I chide down the line, frustrated.
“Not when it comes to eradicating scum,” he replies coolly, not the least bit turned off by the scold in my tone. “I need your help.”
The desperateness in his final sentence has me throwing a twenty onto the table. After storing my laptop into my soft leather briefcase next to Tobias’s, I slide out of the booth. “What do you need?”
“Remember how you were chasing proof Isaac is working with Vladimir?” Even though he’s asking a question, he doesn’t wait for me to answer him. “He’s meeting with him. Now. At Tastes. Likerightfucking now.”
The chime above Harlow’s bakery door rings in my ear before all of ‘Tastes’ leaves his mouth. After adjusting my briefcase, I hustle through the foot traffic, weaving and darting as much as Grayson’s sprint bellows down the line.
“Do we know what they’re meeting is about?”
Grayson huffs out a frustrated laugh. “Not a fucking clue. We’re hoping it’s about the order he placed. Rumors are it has been shipped, but it headed Melody’s way instead of yours.”
“Thanks for the reminder that we’re in different states,” I grumble under my breath.
Air whizzes out of his nose before words convey his displeasure. “Anytime you need a reminder about how you fucked-up, punk, I’m your man.”
“I didn’t fuck up. I’m giving her time—”
