“He’s in an awesome mood.” Eve opened her arms and hugged Liam. “How are you doing?”
There was a speculative look in her eyes as she gave him a once-over. There was no denying that look. It was the look a shrink gave her prized patient. Sometimes Liam thought Eve used his case as a way to escape her own problems, but he didn’t begrudge her. She kept his secrets and he kept hers. They had settled into a nice friendship. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” Eve touched his shirt, smoothing it down. Sometimes Eve could treat him like a child in need of soothing and mothering. Perhaps because she’d heard him cry out like one.
“He said he was fine, Eve. You don’t have to baby him.” Alex stared at them, arms crossed over his chest. Alex stood almost as tall as Ian, though he had a leaner frame. He looked just as fucking mean, though, as he stared at Liam.
Because Liam knew what Alex thought. Alex thought Liam was sleeping with Eve. Alex didn’t understand that the time he and Eve spent together had nothing to do with sex. Alex was brutally jealous and a simple conversation could clear it up, but it really wasn’t Liam’s problem. Alex didn’t need to know that he was seeing Eve on a professional basis. That’s what the whole term “client-patient confidentiality” meant, and he wasn’t going to feel guilty about it. He just wasn’t.
“I think I can ask questions on my own, Alex.” Eve’s voice was frosty cold, and she turned away from Liam, crossing the room and taking her seat again.
Fucking hell. He didn’t want to give a shit. Eve was his bloody therapist, and Alex didn’t need to know a thing. He could think what he well wanted. It didn’t mean anything to Liam. He didn’t care. The mission was the only thing that mattered.
Yeah, he was going to keep right on telling himself that.
Adam walked back in the room. He twisted a dial on the wall and the lights dimmed. Liam took his seat. It was showtime.
“So who’s the blond guy?” Liam asked.
Adam jogged across the room, clicking on the remote in his hand. “Okay. I got the lowdown on this guy. Simon Weston. Thirty-five. Single. So very British. He’s a lawyer. Cambridge law. Top of his class. Joined a small, top-of-the-line firm right out of school. He’s the second son of the Duke of Norsely. Financially he’s a winner. According to what I could track down, he’s worth roughly ten million pounds. He did some time in the Royal Air Force because apparently that’s what Weston males do.”
So he was rich and had titled relatives. Nice. “What’s he doing chasing after Avery Charles?”
Liam could hear the edge in his own voice. The fucker should be dating some available pop star. What was he doing with a slightly overweight brunette who was so fucking soft she practically melted in the sunlight?
“He left Hanover and Giles last year to join the United One Fund. He now heads up the legal department of the charity. He doesn’t have anything to do with Molina’s for profit businesses.”
“So he’s a do-gooder?” Eve asked, her pen tapping against the table.
“I don’t know. He seems very eager to get close to his new boss. This was taken a couple of weeks ago. The London staff threw a surprise welcome party. It was all suitably posh. Apparently Molina has never visited the London offices before.” Adam clicked the remote and a picture of Simon and Molina came up. Simon was sitting in a chair at what was obviously a banquet table, and Molina stood beside him, leaning on his cane. Molina was a dark-haired man with a round face and a dour smile. While Simon Weston was in a tuxedo, Molina was professorial in slacks and a tweed blazer. He looked very much the intellectual philanthropist.
What was that man doing meeting with Eli Nelson?
“It’s odd actually,” Adam explained. “In Cambridge he was quite involved in conservative party politics. He wrote several published essays decrying the Labor Party, including complaints about the amount of foreign aid Westernized countries dole out and a long-winded argument against the dole itself. He doesn’t like dole.”
“Keep the jokes to a minimum. So what happened to turn the boy into a bleeding heart?” Ian stared at the screen.
“No idea,” Adam replied.
“Maybe it was a girl.” Jake leaned forward, his hands on the table. “If you’re really worried about this guy, we can dig into his dating history. We all know that falling for a girl can make you do strange things. Things you wouldn’t normally do. Things you never want to do again.”
“Serena talked us into trying tofu. It did not go well.” Even in the low light, Liam could see the look of glee on Adam’s face.
“I’m allergic. I have to be.” Jake shuddered a little.