Damon shifted in the chair. “An hour or two.”
“Same. Look, I just got averyinteresting call from someone asking about Ella.”
“Me?” She jumped to her feet. “Someone called you about me? How would they…Was it the FBI? Did they find?—”
“Ella.” Damon’s sharp tone caught her by surprise. “Sit back down and finish your coffee. Whatever it is, I’ll handle it.” Hestared up at her from his seat. “Xavier, you might want to continue with your story before I have to prove to my guest that I can chase her down because she’s about to bolt.”
Ella crossed her arms but didn’t sit. Her body was full of nerves. Because no matter how much he promised he’d keep her safe, she had to rely on herself. That’s what had saved her over the last month.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. We got hired to find you. Small damn world.”
Damon snapped his focus to the phone. “You took it?”
“Hell yes, I took it. It works out perfectly. Now, we can ask questions, and no one will wonder why.”
A spark of hope caught her by surprise. “Who hired you to find me? Matteo?”
Damon cocked his head, giving her a hard glare. “Who the hell is Matteo?”
“A guy I’ve casually seen for a few years.”
“A few years?” That didn’t seem to make sense to him. “How is anyone casual with someone for years?”
“Sounds like a booty call,” Xavier announced.
“Is that what it is?” Damon asked, irritated.
Xavier’s laugh echoed through the phone, darkening Damon’s glare.
Ella rolled her eyes. “I’ve never used the term booty call to describe any relationship. In my world, I go to events and functions that require dates. Fundraisers. Gallery openings. Things like that. Matteo does, too. You could say that he and I have gone to these functions as dates off and on for the last four years. We’re friends. Or I thought we were. He hasn’t seemed to care I’ve disappeared,” she muttered, still pissed at the thought. “Never tried to call my phone. No public interviews. Just silence.”
Damon relaxed a fraction. “Got it.”
She added, “And if a booty call happened after that, there wasn’t much emotion involved.”
He grunted. “He sounds like a piece of shit.”
That caused her to jerk back. “Why would you say that? You’ve never met him.”
“Don’t need to.” He looked down at the phone. “Was it Matteo, Xavier?”
“Fortunately for Matteo, it was not.”
The way he said it didn’t make much sense. “Who contacted you?” she asked.
“Julia Cassin.”
A subtle gasp escaped her body. “My stepmother?” Why in the hell did that woman want to find her?
7
Damon stood at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for five-thirty to roll around. Right on time, Ella’s door opened. She exited, locking it behind her, before stepping down the stairs. Her new jeans were low on her hips, hugged her thighs, and flared to a wide opening. Her black T-shirt ended at her waist, revealing two inches of smooth skin. He’d seen the pictures of her online. A few casual shots at charity events. In none of those photos had she dressed like this. And to his unfortunate luck, he’d found one with her and Matteo, arm in arm, at a gallery opening. She’d looked pretty, of course, and Matteo looked like the fucking loser Damon thought he’d be.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, her mouth pulling down with a slight frown. “Do I look okay? You’re staring at me weirdly.” She twirled in a slow circle. She’d darkened her makeup, swapping the bright red lipstick she’d worn yesterday for a new one purchased today. A deep burgundy red that suited her. “Did I get it wrong? I’ve never dressed like this before. I can change if I need to.”
“You look fine.” It was the best description he could offer without sounding more interested than he should be in her.
“Oh. Good.” She nodded and walked past him to his car. “Glad I look fine. I was shooting for that level of compliment.”