Page 64 of End Game

“I know. I know.” He raked a hand through his hair. “It’s—there’s a lot of pressure right now.”

Although she wanted to tie a bowling ball to his damn tongue, she understood more than anyone how it felt to have other peoples’ lives, livelihoods, happiness, all of it, hanging on a yea or a nay.

Kayla drew in a breath, then checked her smart watch. “Look, I’m running behind for an appointment.” She forced a conciliatory note into her voice. “I’ll check in with my team in Raleigh and get back to you.”

The tension radiating through Tommy’s shoulders eased just as a large figure approached him from behind.

“Is everything okay, Ms. Krowne?” Mason asked, smoothly putting himself between her and Tommy.

Mason had at least six inches on her client and probably thirty pounds of muscle.

“Everything is fine, thank you.” She leveled a look at the other man. “Mr. O’Connor and I were just wrapping up.”

Tommy gave her a curt nod and strode away.

“What was all that about?” Mason asked.

Kayla waved for him to follow and headed for the door. “A stressed-out client. Nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to worry about?” Jillian Krowne exclaimed through her phone’s speaker. “Who does this Tommy think he is, threatening my daughter?”

She’d forgotten all about putting her mother on hold. In her flustered state, she had evidently hit the Speaker button rather than Mute.

Kayla mentally reviewed her exchange with Tommy for any worrisome comments Jillian would call her out on later, once she got past this protective mama bear stage. When she recalled none, she said, “He’s just worried, Mom. It happens.”

“Kayla Cornelia Krowne, you and I know that if you’d been a man, he would have been more circumspect with his language.”

She tilted an apologetic look toward Mason, who merely grinned, then increased his pace to open the back passenger side door for her. Today, he was driving the Audi, since her Merc was at the auto body shop.

“Mom, we can discuss this more when I get to the restaurant.”

“Which will be when, exactly?”

Kayla glanced at Mason as she slid into the backseat. He flashed ten fingers, twice. “Twenty minutes.”

“I’ll be the woman seething in the back corner.”

“A glass of champagne will help cool your ire. Later, Mama.”

She clicked off and leaned against the headrest.

“You’re going to pay for that last comment,” Mason said, unable to suppress the humor in his voice. “Cornelia.”

Jillian Krowne’s fascination with Cornelia Stuyvesant Vanderbilt was legend. Heiress to the largest private home in the United States, Cornelia used her immense influence to raise much-needed funds for the community and was instrumental in opening portions of Biltmore House to the public.

“If you ever repeat that name again, I’ll buy a twenty-year-old, rusted-out station wagon in lime green for you to drive.”

“Roger that.”

Kayla changed the subject. “How’s college scouting going?”

“Slow and painful.”

“Is your daughter leaning toward one in particular? Maybe one where all of her friends are going?”

“Jozi isn’t one to follow the pack.”

“A lone wolf like her dad?”

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