Page 69 of Mistletoe and Malice
Things had changed over the following days, starting with the fundraising dinner. Then all the conversations in the car,sharing meals with her family, splitting a sandwich in the middle of the night, and telling her about Theresa. The non-profit that now existed in her name as a result.
He’d begun to consider Riley a friend. His second mistake after not reading her file. But he was determined to see this through. No matter how distant they’d become over the past two days.
“Colton.” Paul’s voice sounded in his ear.
“Go ahead.”
“A dishwasher who wasn’t on the schedule just showed up. He checks. Definitely not our guy. Wanted to make you aware.”
“Copy.”
Riley had received another bone-chilling call this morning, the intent of which appeared to be to inform her he’d seen her leaving the office the day before, complete with a detailed description of her attire. There was also another photo delivered by mail of the line inside the hospital corridor at the donor drive. The creep hadn’t come in, obviously, but he’d been too close for comfort. It was irritating how this guy seemed to be everywhere, but they couldn’t pinpoint anybody who appeared familiar from place to place.
Even now, he and Trevor constantly perused the restaurant and were instantly on alert every time someone came through the door. He knew what every man in the place was wearing, the color of their hair and how they kept it, their approximate age, and ethnic origin. There were two single guys sitting at the bar, but neither of them had even glanced Riley’s direction, instead riveted to the television tuned into a sports channel over the bar.
He’d stationed Paul in the kitchen, securing the back entrance and keeping him close to the SUV if they should need it. They’d vetted the male waitstaff and kitchen crew and checked IDs upon their arrival this evening. Unscheduled dishwashers notwithstanding, nothing so far appeared amiss.
Except for the couple at a table a few yards away. Unlike the other diners laughing and talking over plates of pasta, they weren’t smiling. This conversation was one that should’ve been done in private, as Riley had tried to do when she invited Graham for dinner at the estate last night. The man had insisted on this place, however, and was none too happy they had to put it off a day so Petersen could run their checks.
Riley reached out to touch Graham’s hand, but he pulled it back as if scalded. The pain in her expression had Colton clenching his fists before his attention moved to a couple coming in the door. She hadn’t wanted to hurt her old friend, but she’d finally decided she needed to be straight with him about her feelings.
Colton’s gaze swept back to their table, and the glare Graham sent his way could have stripped paint off a wall. With another glower at Riley, Graham shot to his feet, threw his napkin on the table, and stalked toward the exit. He changed course halfway there, and Colton’s eyes narrowed as the man made a beeline his direction.
By the time Harding came to an abrupt stop in front of him, he was on his feet, staring down the man a good four inches shorter than him. “Something I can do for you?”
Rage pinched Graham’s face. “Don’t go getting any grand ideas about moving in permanently. She may think you’re some knight in shining armor now, but when this thing is over, she’ll see you for who you really are.”
“I’d advise you to back off and get out of this restaurant by the time I count to three, or I’ll remove you myself.” Although his blood boiled, he kept his voice even. “One … two …”
Graham marched out of the restaurant, several of the other diners staring after him in stunned silence. Colton brought his focus back to Riley, who still sat wide-eyed and slack-jawed.
His heart went out to her. That friendship was likely over, the one thing she’d hoped to avoid. But if these were Harding’s true colors, she was better off.
She put her napkin next to her still-full plate of lasagna. After pulling a few bills from her pocketbook, she laid them on the table and stood.
“Paul, we’re ready.”
“Copy. At the front curb in two.”
Riley walked toward the exit, where he and Trevor met her and took up their usual positions. She kept her head down, and no words were spoken while they waited inside for the car. The SUV pulled up to the curb, and Trevor preceded them out, holding the car door open for her while Colton walked around to the other side. The twenty-minute drive back to the estate was tense and quiet, Riley never pulling her attention from her window.
At the house, Paul pulled around the flagstone circular drive and stopped at the front steps. She waited until Trevor opened her door, and Colton met them at the side of the SUV.
Watching as Trevor held his hand out for her, he couldn’t ignore the twist in his gut, reluctant to admit he missed that one brief opportunity to touch her. Connect with her.
Trevor walked with them to the door, taking point next to her while Colton brought up the rear. “Are you going to be all right, Riley?”
She gave him a sad smile. “I will be. Thank you.”
“If it’s any consolation, you’re much too good for that guy.”
“I’m sure Graham’s of a different opinion, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
Once inside and Riley had retired upstairs, Paul came in the door, pinning Colton with an uncharacteristic frown. “A minute of your time?”
“Sure.” The sharp edge in his friend’s voice alerted him he was about to get an earful. Paul and Trevor had no doubt noticed the coolness between him and Riley, but they hadn’t witnessed the encounter in her office earlier in the week. The day she’d reminded him of his place.
Trevor’s gaze moved between them. “You need me for this, or can I call it?”
