Page 108 of Tempt Me

“Who is he?”

“That’s Harris Weston. He used to be CEO of Synergy until he tried a hostile takeover.”

That was why he looked familiar. He used to be on Mother’s invitation list until he tried to drive a wedge between Cooper and Jackson. “I didn’t invite him. Do you think Hannah did it by accident?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she growled. “He’s not welcome here.” Dropping my hand, she strode toward him. I followed as fast as I could in my heels.

A glass of something brown was in his hand as he talked with a group of well-dressed people near the bar. He wore a Dolce & Gabbana suit that should have looked out of place on the casual rooftop but somehow made everyone else look underdressed. His pale blue tie brought out his blue eyes, which were truly lovely. In fact, he was handsome in a way I might have fallen for, if I were into silver foxes and if I weren’t so gone for Jamila. His white teeth flashed when he smiled.

His smile dimmed when he saw Jamila.

She looped her arm through his. “A word, Weston?”

He nodded his goodbye to the group. “Of course, Jamila.”

They walked to the dark side of the rooftop behind the bar, and I followed to make sure she didn’t throw a drink in his face or try to push him over the edge. She was seething, so either option seemed possible.

She yanked him to a stop and hissed, “How dare you show your ugly mug at my party?”

He held up his palms in an “easy there” gesture. “I came here with—”

“I don’t care if you came here with Barbara Jordan and Ruth Bader Ginsburg and their attendant angels. You. Are. Not. Welcome. Not at my party.” She punctuated each word with a stab of her long finger to his chest.

“Fine.” This time when he smiled, it wasn’t friendly. It was cool and calculating. “I accomplished what I needed to.” Brushing off the divot Jamila had left in his tie, he strode away to the exit.

Jamila pulled out her phone and hit a button. “Bruno. Make sure Harris Weston leaves the building. He’s the asshole leaving the rooftop.” She pocketed her phone.

I stepped closer. “What do you think he accomplished?”

“Getting his ass escorted out of my building. Getting his photo put up at the security desk like a check bouncer at Buc-ees.”

“No, Mila, we’re not doing that. You don’t need to be tough with me.”

“Right.” She slipped an arm around me but stared at the door closing behind Weston. “I don’t know. Could be, he just wanted to show his face at a tech party again. Claw his way back into everyone’s good graces so he can sweet-talk his way into another CEO job or a board position. Or it could be something more nefarious.”

I shivered. “Saynefariousagain.”

She tucked her nose under my ear. “Should we do some roleplay around the wordnefarious?”

“It’s hot when you say it with your twang.”

She straightened. “I do not have a twang.”

“You do when you want to. When you want to throw someone off your trail. You’re not considering hiring that PI again to check out Weston, are you?”

“No…”

“That didn’t sound like a realno.No more PIs. We talked about this. Everything on the up-and-up.”

“Fine. Though I wish I knew what he was up to.”

“I’ll ask around. See what I can find out through unofficial channels.”

“Good girl.” She wrapped an arm around me and tugged me closer. “Maybe you missed your calling as a private investigator. You did so well figuring out what Winslow was up to.”

“No.” I leaned my head on her shoulder. “I’m happy where I am. Della Lippman is the best mentor I could ask for.”

Her hand slipped to my hip. “You sure you wouldn’t rather come back and work for me? I’m not sure I can afford to pay you what Della does, but the benefits…” She slipped her fingers under my skirt and skated them to my butt cheek, which she rubbed in a circle. “The benefits are amazing.”

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