Page 27 of Shattered Dreams

“Are you Gage Davenport?”

I nod.

“He told me to direct you to a conference room on the east side of the building. Walk through the solarium and turn right down the hallway. The conference room is 107. He’s waiting for you there.”

“Thanks.”

Baby sniffs at the plants forced to stay alive during the winter months, and I hurry her along, whistling softly. The woman’s directions were clear, and I find the conference room without trouble. The scents of bacon, eggs, and coffee permeate the air. I knock once and push the door open.

To my surprise, he’s not wearing a suit, but lounging pants and a t-shirt, reading the paper. Meeting my gaze, he says, “Thanks for coming by.” He pours me a mug of coffee, and I sit and steal a piece of bacon off a breakfast platter positioned in the center of the table. I’m not hungry—it’s too early to think about food—but Baby enjoys it, gulping the piece down in two swallows.

“What’s this about?”

“Stella’s still sleeping, and I wanted to compare notes. This is supposed to be a honeymoon of sorts, and I promised her I would let you take care of Zarah while we try to enjoy a little peace and quiet.”

“I’ll do what I can. She has more faith in me than she should.”

“She had more faith in me than she should have, too, and look where that got her.” Zane’s lips quirk in self-deprecation.

“You’re not so bad.”

“I keep fucking up, so I would question your opinion.”

“No one could have known Zarah would go downstairs, and no one would have suspected that Black would send some psycho after her.”

“We didn’t suspect jack shit, but we should haveknown, dammit.”

I feed Baby another piece of bacon and chug half my coffee steaming in the large mug. Christ, do I need the caffeine. “Zarah’s headstrong and does what she wants, just like every other female I’ve ever known. She’ll put herself in danger again, that’s a given. No use beating yourself up about it.”

“What have you found out about Ingrid?” he asks, changing the subject. He doesn’t want to hear about Zarah getting into more trouble. That’s fine. Now that she understands how much she loves me and how much I love her, maybe we can avoid more situations like last night.

“Pop and I went over the warehouse. Baby nosed out a Patek Philippe watch. Track that down and maybe we’ll get a bead on what’s going on there.”

He grunts in surprise. “Those are registered with the company upon purchase. Finding out who the owner is will be easy enough. You didn’t give it to the police?”

“No, not yet.”

“Good. We’ll puzzle this out on our own.”

“This isn’t what Pop and I normally catch for a case,” I say. “We’re in over our heads.”

Zane pauses and sips his coffee. “I understand, but that’s exactly why we should keep this to ourselves for now. The list of who we can trust is short.”

I can’t disagree. “Okay. For now.”

“Is there anything else?”

There’s a lot I could dump on Zane. Jerricka Solis and her filthy accusations, what Zarah means to me, even after she dumped me. That I could have knocked her up and we’re waiting to find out if that’s true or not. Lots of things that on the outside don’t seem to be his business, but in reality, are more his business than mine.

I hesitate, and he narrows his eyes at me, but I say, “No.”

He nods. “Okay. I have one other thing, then I’m going upstairs.” He leans over and drags a black leather briefcase onto the table. Flipping the locks open, he says, “The sale went through yesterday, no resistance. I paid more than what the building’s worth. Ten point five million dollars.” Zane slides a piece of paper over the table, a Mont Blanc lying on top. I know the brand from paging throughGQ...and from seeing one on Rourke’s desk. “It was your idea to purchase Quiet Meadows, and I signed it over to you and Zarah.”

I frown, the legalese swirling around on the paper. “I don’t want it.”

“Nor do I. It was your idea that I buy it, and a good one. Think of it as an investment.”

“I want to tear it down, not invest.”

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