Page 23 of The Only Reason (The Trident Trilogy 2)

“Who’s asking?” Mason grumbles.

“What are you, her bodyguard? Does she live here or not?”

Before Mason has a chance to reply, I fly around the corner. “George? Oh my God. What are you doing here?”

“You haven’t returned any of my phone calls, so I thought I’d come find you,” he says as he unsuccessfully tries to move around Mason.

“That’s called stalking, George. It’s against the law.”

Mason pushes me behind him instinctively.

“No, Mase. Bad choice of words. He’s not really stalking me. Like in the dangerous sense, anyway. This is my old boss from the agency, George Chapman. George, this is my boyfriend, Mason Davis.”

Mason’s still blocking the entrance, but somehow George squeezes his body into the house and hugs me. “Your boyfriend? Really? What happened to Dave back in DC?”

“His name was Drew, and we broke up a long time ago,” I say, pulling out of the hug. “What are you doing here? What do you want?”

“Can I sit down?” George says, eyeing Mason cautiously. “Or is your new boyfriend going to try to kill me?”

“You can come in, but no guarantees on what Mason’s going to do. He’s a free spirit.”

George sits on the couch and pats the cushion on the seat next to him. I purposely sit in the chair across from him.

“Haven’t changed a bit, have you? Still as obstinate as ever.” He pauses for a second, and looks up at Mason who’s standing behind my chair. “Is there any way the bodyguard can leave? What I have to say is classified.”

“He’s a SEAL. He has clearance. He can stay.”

George lets out a huge and unexpected wave of laughter as he takes off his glasses. “Wait. What?” he manages to get out. “You’re dating a SEAL? A SEAL? After everything you went through with your dad. Seriously? I thought you disavowed everything about the teams.”

Mason takes a large step toward him. I grab his leg. “Mase. He’s harmless. Will you sit, please?” Mason takes the chair next to me, his eyes not leaving George. I’m suddenly very relieved I made him leave his gun in the bedroom.

“George, why are you here?” I say with frustration and fatigue dripping from my voice.

“I really can’t talk about this, Millie. Not in front of him.” George motions toward Mason. “It’s for agency ears only.”

“I don’t work for the agency anymore.”

“Since when? You’re still getting paid.”

“And I’ve asked you to have that stopped. The money is sitting in my bank account, ready to return to the agency. I’ve sent you two letters of resignation.”

“I didn’t accept your resignation and I still don’t. As far as I’m concerned, you still work for us. For me.”

“Well you can think anything you want, but I don’t.” I stand up to get some coffee. It’s way too early in the morning for George.

George stands up and follows me. “Millie. This has to do with your family,” he whispers. “Your overseas family . . .”

I turn around to see George right behind me and Mason right behind him. “Mason knows everything about my Bosnian family. You might as well start talking if you want to tell me something. He’s not leaving.” Mason purposely bumps George as he walks by him to hand me the hazelnut creamer out of the refrigerator.

“Fine.” George sighs. “What do you know about Azayiz Custovic?”

“Nothing. I’ve never heard that name,” I say, taking a long sip of coffee.

“She’s your mother’s aunt—your great-aunt.”

“Okay. So is she dead? Why do I care about this?”

“She’s not dead. She’s originally from Pakistan. She had an arranged marriage with your great-uncle, and moved to Bosnia after the wedding.” George starts tapping his fingers on the kitchen counter. Finger tapping is his tell. He does it when he’s about to embellish something.

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