“You’re not the spy.”
She pushed the button again. “I left a detailed summary with all the dates, clients, and facts spelled out.” And for a brief moment, her guard dropped. “I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am. Truly.” Then, the expressionless demeanor was raised again right as the elevator door opened. “Don’t follow me. Don’t call me. Don’t contact me. It’s over.”
Numb, Will watched as the elevator door closed. The same elevator she had been in when he saw her the very first time. He didn’t know how long he stood there, but when he turned around, both of his brothers were watching him with concerned expressions.
“She didn’t do it.”
Chance shot Michael a look before walking back to the office.
They didn’t believe him. They thought he was covering for her… Hold it. Dammit, why hadn’t he seen the connection before?
“She didn’t do it,” he shouted after them.
When he got in the office, his brothers were deep in conversation. Chance was staring out the window and Michael was in one of the wing chairs, rather than behind his desk.
“She’s right, it’s not illegal,” Chance said, hands over his head splayed out on the glass. “We wouldn’t even prevail in civil court. We don’t even have a claim for tortious interference with a business relationship, because the clients were not under contract. There might be something, but I doubt it.”
“Let it go,” Michael said. “Enough damage has been done.”
“She’s not the spy,” Will said, primarily to himself. “I know her. I trust her implicitly.”
That got Michael’s attention. He raised his eyes to Will’s face.
“Holy shit,” Chance said. “You’ve fallen in love.”
“I would love her whether she did this or not,” Will said. Sinking into the chair nearest the door. “Love is something that grew organically. Trust is different. It’s earned. She earned it and I know she didn’t do it. It isn’t possible. Love aside, she’s not the spy.”
“Love,” Michael said, voice soft. “I had no idea this was going on until Chance filled me in on how much time you’d been spending together. Then, when you took her to the island, I knew it was pretty serious.”
“I’ll prove she didn’t do it.”
“I’ve no doubt about that.” Just like their father used to do when he ran the place, Michael steepled his fingers in front of him. “But Will, you really need to prioritize. If you care for her, I think your first order of business should be to get her back.”
Will couldn’t believe it. Michael was putting a personal matter ahead of the business. That was certainly a first.
“I don’t know how you plan to accomplish that, little brother, but it’s not going to happen with your ass in that chair.”
Will stood. “Thanks.”
“Oh, and Dan called,” Michael said, dimples flickering as he fought a smile. It was good to see him smile. Will genuinely loved his brother and wanted him to start lightening up a little. Michael straightened a pile of perfectly lined up papers on his desk. “Somehow the table on the plane was broken on your flight home?”
Chance busted out laughing.
Will cleared his throat. “I can’t imagine how that happened.”
“Well, I’d rather not imagine it.” He sat behind the desk. “I’m just glad you finally found somebody worth fighting for, little brother.”
She was worth fighting for, and that’s exactly what he planned to do. First, though, he needed to make a visit to her friend, Heather.
“What are friends for?” he said, striding to the elevators one part relieved and one part terrified. These were the highest stakes of his life.
“Hey,” Chance called from where he leaned against the door of the office. “You forgot your phone.”
Will walked back and retrieved it. “Did you fuck with my ringtones again?”
“You bet I did.” A mischievous glint flashed in his eyes. “Suffice it to say you will know if Claire Maddox is calling.”
God, he hoped she called. Soon.
Chapter Eighteen
Claire stepped out of the airport into the bright Cairo sun. When she landed in Egypt, she’d resolved to stop looking over her shoulder, hoping to see Will.
Will wasn’t coming. She’d told him not to follow in no uncertain terms. She had also vowed to not keep checking her text messages every ten minutes. He wasn’t going to contact her either. Why would he? Hell, he was probably burning her in effigy right now or sticking pins in a Claire-shaped voodoo doll.