Page 8 of Risk Assessment
One of the men in the back stepped away as the group passed and offered his hand. Dylan blinked and shook the man's hand. "Gabe. Sorry I didn't recognize you."
Gabe smiled. "It's the suit. Throws everyone off. How are you? What are you doing here?"
"I'm doing okay. Hangin' in. You know how it goes."
Gabe glanced over at Raleigh and the bellman. He raised an eyebrow, but Dylan gave him a slight negative shake of his head.
"What about you?" Dylan asked. "What are you doing here?"
Gabe nodded in the direction the security cadre had been headed. "Another job. The guys have it under control, but the client likes me to ride shotgun now and again."
"Sure." Dylan had no doubt that Gabriel Risk was doing a lot more than riding shotgun if he was working. Risk was the owner and Chief Executive Officer of one of the top personal security companies in the country. Whoever the client was, he had to be one hell of a VIP.
"Let's grab a beer next week. I'll be back in the city by then. I want to hear how you're really doing. Being in limbo is tough. I know how much you want back on the ESU."
Dylan gave him a tight smile. "It's not so fun, for sure. I'd love to grab a beer. Get in touch when you can."
Gabe nodded as he offered his hand again. He clapped Dylan on the back and strode after his team.
Dylan started forward and looked up to find Raleigh glaring at him.
The bellman gave him a smirk; apparently he recognized a dead man when he saw one.
Was it too late to turn around and run?Dylan stood still for a second. He could leave. He didn’t owe Raleigh anything. And spending the weekend at Jenn’s wedding was way,wayThe image of Raleigh standing in her hallway, face full of fear, filled his head. She was genuinely terrified. He couldn’t leave her alone. She hadn’t done anything wrong. A second image, one of a scared little boy popped up unbidden from his memory.
No one should ever have to be that kind of terrified.
CHAPTER THREE
Raleigh seethed as she stalked toward the cabin. She should have been paying attention to the walkway and how the grounds looked. They were beautiful. The glimpses of rolling green lawns sprinkled between the pink and white flowering hedges that lined the path were exquisite especially in the setting sun. She tried to take it all in so she could write about it later, but her brain was too occupied with the horrific scene in the lobby.
Dylan knew the bride. How did she not know that pertinent fact? She’d seen the look on Jenn’s face. The bride-to-be was not pleased, in fact, she was bent so far out of shape that there was a one-thousand percent chance that she and Dylan were a hell of a lot more than mere acquaintances. Did Dylan just choose to keep that fact to himself? Did he think it wasn’t important? Raleigh closed her eyes. Had she ever mentioned who the bride was?”
JenniferfreakingHarris oftheHarris family. It just figured. This was a big get for her PR firm. She ground her teeth. If the Harrises were unhappy, they could boycott her firm and pan them on social media. It would be a blow since the family wasa big damn deal in New York. Her boss would fire her over that kind of negative publicity.
“Here you are,” the bellman said. He turned the key and opened the door to the cabin.
For a moment, Raleigh was distracted from her upset over Dylan knowing the bride. The cabin was so stunning, she momentarily forgot to breathe.
The large foyer was painted a lovely gray with white trim. A large bouquet of pink Stargazer lilies sat in a cut-crystal vase on a table against the short wall on the left that ended at the doorway to a living room.
The spacious room was painted a soft gray as well. The beige sofa and matching chairs had blue and white chevron patterned throw pillows that matched the rug. An oak coffee table rested in front of the sofa, a few feet from the fireplace, and two matching end tables were next to the chairs. A flat screen TV was tucked into a nook in the wall above the stone fireplace.
To the right of the foyer a kitchen featured an oak dining table and chair set that was the same tone as the living room tables. The entire room gave Raleigh a serious case of kitchen envy. Three metal barstools were tucked under a large granite-topped island. The stools had beige and white chevron patterned seats. The shaker-style cabinets were a cream color and there was even a stainless-steel fridge.
Cabin was a misnomer. No cabin looked like this, at least none she’d ever seen. The whole place was swanky, from the overstuffed fluffy cushions on the sofa to the granite countertops in the kitchen and the white marble floors. It was superb.
“The couch pulls out into a queen-size bed, and there are extra blankets in each of the wardrobes in the bedrooms,” the bellman explained. “The AC can be a touch chilly in these cabins. The thermostat is on the wall over here.” He pointed toward the wall on the kitchen side of the foyer.
She tried not to glare at the bellman, but she didn’t care about the AC. She cared that her career in public relations was taking a major nosedive at that exact moment. He needed to get gone so she could possibly salvage the situation.
“Great. Thanks.” Dylan handed him a tip. The bellman nodded at her, and then as if finally getting the message, hustled toward the door.
As soon as he was gone, Dylan turned toward her. “I guess you want an explanation.”
“Ya think?” she said as she stormed passed him into the living room. “This is my life we are talking about here. Lydia Harris requested me to personally to help her with this event, and now she’s going to be livid because you’re here.” She threw her arms in the air. “Why? What the hell happened between you and the Harrises?”
He scratched the back of his neck and started to sit down, but as soon as his butt hit the chair, he was up again and pacing. Finally stopping, he turned to face her. He hooked his fingers through his belt loops and leaned back against the living room wall. “Up until six months ago, Jenn and I were engaged.”
