Page 96 of It Starts With A No

“The detective doesn’t have an appointment with Miss Fiore,” Tamara said while looking at her.

“Send her up.”

Tamara nodded. “It’s okay. Miss Fiore is free at the moment. You can send her up.”

Clary closed the door behind her. With a sigh, she headed straight toward the couch. After dropping her tote bag and laptop bag next to the couch, she sat, kicked off her heels, and stretched out on it.

It was incredibly unprofessional and absolutely not how she imagined this day would start.

But, well …

Jesus. Clary groaned, because what else could she say.

Sighing, she pushed herself upright. “No time to whine about your personal life.”

Your life shouldn’t revolve around your work. Clary pushed Grandma Moretti’s voice out of her head. She had no choice. There wasn’t anything she could do about Seth now, but she had tons to work on at EB Co.

“I need help, Lord.” She blew a breath out of her mouth. “I can’t do this on my own.”

She jerked her chin up when she heard the beeps of the digital door lock. Quickly pulling her stilettos back on, she straightened her back and forced a smile.

“Thank you,” Detective Lowe said to Tamara, then smiled at her. “Good morning, Miss Fiore.”

“Clary.”

“Andrea.” The detective stepped in, and her brows twitched as she scanned the room.

“They’re not mine.”

“Mr. Anderson’s?”

Clary laughed softly. “No. Previous CEO. Hugh was kicked out quite suddenly.” She gestured for Andrea to take a seat on the couch. “What can I do for you?”

Andrea rubbed her hands down her dark blue jeans. “I’m actually here to check in on you.”

“I’m fine. Gavin Ressler didn’t get to me, and neither did the deranged man show up.”

He has no problem lying to you, though. This time, the voice was Mr. E’s.

Clary swallowed a sigh.

Seth and his brothers had been through so much together, and the brothers—despite their disagreements—were clearly close. So it didn’t seem like he would simply forget he had two other siblings.

Whatever happened to Jimmy, anyway?

Clary couldn’t believe she’d only now thought to ask that question.

“But are you okay?”

“I’m sorry?” Clary asked Andrea, uncertain if she heard the question right.

Andrea sighed softly. “Mr. Anderson seemed rather controlling. He was ordering you around. He didn’t want you to speak.”

“He didn’t want me to speak?” Clary’s mind whirled as she tried to recall when that happened.

“He demanded that you stay at his place. You didn’t dare agree to a police patrol without his say, and then he sent you away to pack your bag so he could speak to me about the rubber head you received.”

Clary’s lips curled. “It’s not what it seems. He just wanted to wrap things up quickly and get me out of the house.”

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