Page 63 of Nothing to Beat

“I thought changing things was the idea,” he said, concern creeping in.“If you’ve changed your mind—”

“No, I know what I have to do.”She glanced at him.“I don’t want it to change things between us.”Ackley could tell her to go to hell and Breck would never know what had been said.Except if Bastian was right next to her, hearing every word, she couldn’t deny the truth.“I value our friendship.”

“As do I,” he said and took her hand to kiss the back of it, locking their fingers together.“And you’ll always have it.”

“Okay.”One nod.“Let’s do this.”

Passing through the doors, into a busy bullpen of cubicles, the offices left and right contained people too, everyone lost in the importance of their business.Should it be so busy on a Sunday?Didn’t these people take any time off?Maybe it was a case of, if the boss was in, everyone was in.

At the other side of the space were double doors.Solid, private, concealing what went on inside.Bastian guided her around the room to those doors.Without waiting he went inside and closed them in.

Quiet.The rumble of business they’d just left still hummed behind the wood, but it wasn’t intrusive.Privacy, maybe, hopefully, went both ways.

Bastian released her hand to continue the couple of steps to a desk occupied by a woman wearing a headset, fingers poised over the keyboard like they’d interrupted her mid-strike.

“Dierdra.”The warmth of Bastian’s voice betrayed his smile.“How are you doing?”

“Well, Mr.Hunt.He’s eager for this meeting.”

Huh, maybe she should’ve asked exactly what Bastian said to get them in.

“That’s nice to hear,” Bastian said.“It’s always nice to be welcome.”

As she rose from her seat, Dierdra laughed, a light flirtatious sound Bastian probably heard everywhere.Sure, the woman was probably twenty years older than him, but did that ever matter?

“You’re always welcome,” the assistant said and retreated to another set of double doors.Dierdra knocked once, then, without waiting for a response from inside, opened one of the doors.

Bastian’s arm rose as he twisted her way, calling for her to go first, or at least with him into the room beyond.

Shit.It was nerves.No way of denying that now.

With an exhale, she went to Bastian, walking with him, his hand on the small of her back.The touch was comforting, but it didn’t slow her speeding heart.Adrenaline got her over the threshold.

Breck.He’s who mattered.He was what she had to hold onto.Nothing that could happen in that room, or any other, would change how he felt about her… right?

“Bastian!”Ackley, a tall man with a tan and graying hair with flecks of white at the temples, came around to shake his hand.“I hear there’s a matter we have to discuss.”

“Yes.”Bastian’s hand strengthened in time with Ackley’s focus landing on her.“My friend has important business.I’ll let her introduce herself.”

Right, because they hadn’t spoken about how much of her identity she wanted revealed up front.Did she want her heritage flagged at the head of this meeting?Yes, because everything hinged on her credibility.Were Gambattos credible?In a room like this, for the most part?No, they wouldn’t be.But Ackley had to believe her words carried weight, that she was more than just a passerby.

Funny for how many years she’d done everything in her power to conceal her identity, and there she was, ready to declare it to a man with the power to dismantle her whole life.

“Mr.Ackley,” she said, edging just a little closer as her shoulders pushed back to hold her confidence.“I’m Sequoia Gambatto.”

The flare of his nostrils was the first hint of surprise.He didn’t immediately say anything.No, he’d need time to process.Men like him, confident public figures always had something to say and always assumed to be right.

Porter Clement, a Chicagoan, elbow deep in a case involving her family, might immediately recognize her, and even he hadn’t.Ackley had no reason to know who she was at all, he may not know she existed.

“A sister,” he murmured, surprise becoming intrigue.

Ackley backed off to gesture at the chairs facing his desk as he went around to his grand red, leather chair.This was LA, the city of sleek and modern, Ackley may buy into that at home, he didn’t in his office.Broad desk, bookcases behind, flags, this was the full deal.Thank God she wasn’t easily intimidated.

“Thank you for seeing us on a Sunday,” she said, holding onto her assuredness while projecting respect.Soften up the ground, be sure, not pushy.Not yet.“It’s short notice, you couldn’t have expected us.”

“Bastian said he had a friend who needed my attention, deserved my attention.I could never have predicted this.”He glanced between them.“You’re a long way from Chicago, Ms.Gambatto.To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Smart, also not presumptuous, could be an act.

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