Page 101 of Savage Suit

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“I want to protect her,” I insisted. “My mother—”

“Is dead,” she inserted. “And I am so, so sorry for that. I truly am. But it isn’t Ryan’s fault. You do her a grave injustice by making her pay for your mother’s unfortunate death. And I don’t say that lightly. Because I know how that feels. If you want to do anything for Ryan, keep her on for the agreed upon six months. If you have to adhere to the rules in your company, then don’t have a relationship with her until her contract is up. But she’s going to be right there, under your nose, working closely with you. What better way to get to know her?” She shook her head. “Instead of chasing ghosts, some woman at some ball, appreciate who is right in front of you.”

Reid glanced at Quinn, then looked at me. “As much as I wish I had the information about the girl from the ball, I don’t, Noah. I don’t know her identity. You think it was Ryan.”

I nodded.

“What if it was?” Reid challenged. “Nicholas would see the entire Keegan empire collapse to avenge Duke. No one can remove you, but he could undermine your authority and ruin your credibility.”

Facts I knew.

“Only a fucking idiot would do that,” Quinn inserted.

Reid tried to make eye contact with her, but she refused to look at him. “What about Ryan?”

I narrowed my eyes at my cousin, though I understood his train of thought. Nicholas would take no prisoners.

“What the fuck about my sister?”

“He’d sabotage her career, too,” Reid responded.

Quinn popped to her feet. “I need to pee. Where’s the bathroom?”

“Turn left in the hallway. Third door on the right.”

“Thanks, dude. I’m hungry too. Do you have anything to eat?”

“Whatever you want, I’ll call my chef to prepare it.”

“Chef?” She stared at me. “You’re joking.”

“Such a phenomenon requires a sense of humor, which Noah lacks.”

“Fuck off, Reid,” I ordered, not taking offense at his lighthearted words.

“I can find something for myself,” Quinn said after the rare moment between my cousin and me passed. “By the time your chef gets here, I will have expired from hunger.”

“Doubtful,” I said dryly. “Angelo lives on premises.”

“No fucking way,” she squeaked. “Are you serious?”

“Quite,” I assured her.

“You’re that wealthy?” she asked, her eyes wide with awe.

“I’m not sure whatthat wealthyis.”

Turning, she rushed to her purse. When she walked to where I sat, she lifted my hand and placed a stack of business cards in my palm. “I’m a makeup artist. One of the best. Pass those out to all your friends and demand they call me.”

I barked a laugh, setting her cards on an end table. “What are your rates?”

“Ryan suggested I charge fifty an hour since I have certification in master makeup artistry. I’ve worked at several salons over the years and completed the course when I was nineteen. However, I don’t think I should start my business at such a high rate. My sister disagrees.”

“So do I,” Reid growled.

Quinn ignored him. “I was thinking of setting my rate between twenty-five or thirty an hour.”

“You’re shortchanging yourself,” I told her. “Was your program any good?”