Page 86 of Protecting Bianca

“Mr. Walsh?”

He stared ahead. “You’ll find out soon enough. We’re almost there.”

Walsh turned right again, and then left. We were no longer in traffic, but we were heading in the opposite direction from the office. I turned back in my seat, trying to read the street sign we’d just passed, but it was too far. The next turn brought us into an alleyway, and I had no idea where we were.

“You’re going the wrong way, Mr. Walsh. You made a left at Third when we were supposed to go right.”

“I didn’t make a wrong turn, Ms. Rimoli. I know exactly where I’m taking you.”

21

Jager

It wasn’t five o’clock yet, but I could hear the shuffling of bags and coats as employees started packing up for the day. I sent Bianca another text; it was the third one this afternoon.

“Hey, I know you’re busy, but drop me a checkmark to let me know you’re alright.”

I stared at the screen, waiting for the dots to appear, but nothing happened. She hadn’t even read my previous texts yet.

Perhaps her phone was stuffed in her purse in a corner of the reception room. Maybe I should try calling one of her team members to make sure everything was okay.

My fingers hesitated to open the file with the employees’ contact information. What if calling one of her employees embarrassed Bianca?

Fuck it. I’d take that chance and make it up to her if she was upset. We had a situation on our hands, and it was unlike her not to text me back. So, I looked up Jackson’s number and called him.

“Hello?” his voice was hesitant.

“Jackson, it’s Jager Payne. I’m calling to confirm that everything is alright at the hotel.”

“Oh, Jager. Hey. Yeah, everything’s fine.”

I exhaled a huge breath. Damn, I was getting worked up about nothing.

“Great. Thank you. Can you let Bianca know that I called and needed to speak with her? I’ve tried texting—”

“Bianca’s not here.”

“She’s not?”

“No. She left about an hour ago.”

“Do you know where she went?”

“Back to the office.”

I turned around, thinking she would somehow appear behind me. But there were only people filing down the hallway toward the elevators.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Walsh drove her back for the interview with the New Yorker. She’s probably in Towers’ office right now.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

I hung up the phone and nearly raced down the corridor to Towers’ office. The CEO sat at his desk, but looked up when I stormed in.

“Have you seen Bianca recently?”

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