Page 66 of Spooked

“Who is it? I blocked out my schedule today.”

“She introduced herself as Alexa, but she wouldn’t give a surname.”

Now Brax sat up. Alexa? No, Alexa didn’t do face-to-face meetings. Alexa hid herself away in dark corners, both on the internet and in the real world.

“What does she look like?”

“Petite, blonde, young. Very young. There are two men with her, but she wouldn’t tell me who they were either.”

Fuck, it really was Alexa?

“She’s actually the same age as you.”

“Are you sure? No, I don’t think so. She looks about sixteen.”

And when she’d claimed to be sixteen, she’d looked twelve.

“Send her through.”

“And the men?”

“Them too.”

“Should I make coffee for everyone?”

“Why not? Cream and one sugar for Alexa. I don’t know about the others.”

Why would Alexa come to the office? There could only be one reason—she’d been meddling again. Alexa was fond of breaking rules and societal norms. Call it a hobby. Sometimes she interfered for the better, and sometimes she interfered for the worse. Such as the time she hacked a pizza delivery app soon after she moved into Blackstone House and sent food all over the neighbourhood. If she liked you, you got a supreme with extra cheese. If she didn’t like you, you got a margherita with triple jalapeños. What was the reason for this carb overload? The owner of the pizza place had hit a dog with his car outside Blackstone House. Deliberately, according to Ruby, who’d witnessed the incident. Alexa was terrified of dogs, but she liked assholes even less.

“Uh, Mr. Vale? Do you think I could take a slightly longer lunch break today? I can make up the time this evening. I just have a personal errand to run, and—”

“Take the rest of the day off.”

“That really isn’t necessary.”

“Take the day off, and don’t be late tomorrow morning.”

“If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure. Bring Alexa in.”

Two minutes later, there she was. A pit bull in a chihuahua’s body, followed by Chase and a man who had to be either a lawyer or an accountant. He had a briefcase and a sharp, pedantic look about him. Curiosity got the better of Brax, and he scanned Alexa from top to toe, taking in the sun-bleached blonde hair piled on top of her head, the golden tan, the designer sportswear, and the imperious attitude.

“You look well,” he said.

She snorted. “You look like shit. I realise money doesn’t buy happiness, but apparently it doesn’t buy razors either.”

“Women find a two-day beard attractive, or so I’ve been told.”

“How about the eyebags? You need to use some of that bee-venom gloop Carissa spends three hundred bucks on.”

Chase set the three laptops he was carrying in a neat line on Brax’s desk, then pulled up a chair, presumably for Alexa. Damn, his brain hurt. Meera hadn’t even brought the coffee yet.

“Alexa, what are you doing here?”

“Saving your stupid ass from your dumb impatience. I need coffee.”

“Coffee’s on its way, and that isn’t a proper answer. Who is this gentleman?” Brax waved a hand at the lawyer-slash-accountant.

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