“Well, then,” Lachlan says, his swagger returning for just a moment. “Let's go find the bastard. Frank is Chris's inside man. Now, let's go find Frank's.”
And then I remember earlier.
A little visit to The Alchemist where I found certain someone having sex with a certain cocktail waitress.
Someone who was starting to get to know me. Someone close.
Someone familiar with my movements—my habits.
Someone close to the action, like…
My breath catches in my throat, sticking there. My stomach turns tight at the thought.
I wet the edge of my bottom lip.
“What about Eric?” I ask Andrew.
“What about him?” He frowns, ambling close. “You really think it could be him?”
“He wouldn't be the first manager at The Alchemist to plot against us. And he was conveniently ‘busy’ when Frank Levins leveled a Closure Notice at The Alchemist’s front door.”
Andrew scoffs, sticking his hands in his pockets, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. “Still don't get what you ever saw in that guy.”
“I don't know…” I shoot back, feeling plucky. “Maybe I just have a thing for men who casually bang dumb redheads?”
“'Casually bang dumb redheads'? Who are you talk—?" Andrew stops. “You mean Sheena? Wait a sec… Eric is screwing around with Sheena.” It’s an accusation, not a question and my dark-haired flame stares into space before looking at me.
“People! Focus, please,” Lachlan cuts in, hands coming through his thick hair. “We're trying to figure out which ass to kick around here, so if you could please get back on topic.”
I lower my eyes, face burning as Andrew gazes at me anew, his blue eyes curious as they roam my face. I clear my throat. “I'm just saying… I'm starting to think that he's not as sweet as he pretends to be.”
Wariness creeps into Lachlan's eyes. “You might be right, Nancy. Your manager-slash-ex-or-whatever might have been keeping tabs on you,” Lachlan admits.
“God, Lach, you're right. But even as I say it, I'm not positive I can believe it. I mean, I know Eric's not the best guy for me. In fact, I can't think of anyone who is less suited for the job, actually. But I can't imagine that maybe he's behind all this.”
“I know,” he says.
“Maybe we're both wrong. Maybe we're just being paranoid. But, damn it, I'm going to make sure that we get to the bottom of this.”
I look up at Andrew, staring hard at him. “Like I said, I'm in. If Andrew's in, then I'm in.” I look over at Lachlan, my expression hardening.
“None of these accidents are accidents at all,” Andrew continues. “They are all orchestrated. And we'll uncover every clue until we get the bastard responsible.”
I pull out my phone and dial Eric's number. It goes straight to voicemail.
“Hey, Eric,” I say. “It's Nancy. I have some, uh, questions about the bar. I'd like to talk to you about them as soon as possible. Call me.” I hang up.
I wait a few minutes.
No response.
Damn it.
Chapter 26
ANDREW
I hate that Nancy ever met this guy Eric.
I hate that he’s ever touched her.
But I guess the fact that he has comes in handy…when we find out that the idiot is still sharing his location with her, showing that while he might be a Goody-Two-Shoes as an employee and potential boyfriend, Mr. Stick-Up-His-Ass-Saboteur might also be the worst criminal to ever exist.
Nancy uses her location map to find out where he is, and surprise, surprise…the prick is in Connecticut.
On the estate, to be exact.
And I can’t wait to get my hands on him…
And not the way he hoped to be with Nancy.
And speaking of Nancy, I can’t keep my eyes off my beautiful ginger-hued blonde. Even as we begin our search for Eric on the estate, I can't stop looking her way, can't keep my eyes akimbo.
She sighs beside me as we enter yet another bedroom. “Tell me again… Why's it so important that we find Eric right this minute?”
“Because in about an hour, my older sister is getting married. And with the way this guy has been trying to kill us every chance he gets, I'm certain I don't want Hannah's guests to eat wedding cake that might have cyanide in it. Trust me: The sooner we get our hands on this guy, the better.”
“I still can't believe Eric could be capable of something like this…”
I snort. “I believe it. Guy's a jackass.”
Nancy turns, eyes narrowing over her shoulder. She keeps walking, examining another room, her back to me. “C'mon, Andrew. That's enough. You don't even know him that well.”
“And you do?” I say, following her lead as we look into a bathroom, eyes scanning across the tiled floor. “I'm guessing you didn't know he was sleeping with Sheena, then, huh?”
Nancy spins, turning on her heel so fast she catches me off guard. She stops right in front of my feet. “And he wasn't the only one,” she mumbles.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I throw at her as she pivots back around, inspecting yet another area, her small shoulders hunched in anger. I watch the line of her back.
“Maybe it means that Eric wasn't the only one who was sleeping around.” So Nancy stalks off, still furious. I follow her, watching her as she walks into a room, her back to me.
My breath hitches as I watch her. She's got her hair tied back, showing off the graceful curve of her neck. The view of her supple, soft ass in that bridesmaid’s dress makes me wish I could scratch that familiar itch to be inside her happening between my legs. But she's looking over her shoulder at me, and even as I watch, she whips around, sticking her finger in my chest.
“You’re jealous of Eric.” Nancy accuses, her eyebrows furrowing. Then she looks
