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“We’ve got my security and yours, we’ll befine.”
“Amelia, I don’tthink—”
“Listen, Blaire. If I let every security threat dictate how I live my life, I’m letting the bad guyswin.”
“My situation is different. Something already happened to your son and people have come after me. It’s not a threat, Amelia, it’s become areality.”
“Hold on, dear,” Amelia started talking to someone else. After a few minutes, she said, “Morris, my bodyguard, said they have vetted several restaurants in town. And by vetted, they know the background of every employee working there and will do a sweep before we walkin.”
Wow. It was almost like security for apresident.
“So,lunch?”
I was actually looking forward to some kind ofnormal.
“I’ll tellTyler.”
Iemergedfrom the gym and handed Tyler the phone. “I’m meeting Amelia for lunch. They’re still working out which restaurant.” Not waiting for his reply, I made my way up the steps to go to the mainhouse.
“Does Mr. Thorneknow?”
“Grant? He’s in New York. I don’t see why this should concernhim.”
“He left specific instructions that you weren’t to leave thehouse.”
I ignored Tyler, feeling a twinge of guilt because he was only doing his job, but pissed at Grant that he could think to tuck me away somewhere and go his merryway.
“Ms. Callahan,” Tyler called when I was halfway through the kitchen. I exhaled a long-suffering sigh so I didn’t end up yelling at the poor guy. It wasn’t his fault he felt like one of mycaptors.
“Work it out with Amelia’s security team and then contact Grant and Jake,” I told him. “Agreeing to be held a prisoner in this house wasn’t a part of any deal I struck with your boss.” Maybe if he’d hung around and discussed it with me, I’d be morereasonable.
“We’re on radio-silence right now,” Tyler informed me in turn. “That’s why Mr. Thorne hasn’t called you. He’s working with a security specialist regarding our servers to make sure they’re compliant to the highest encryption andprotection.”
“He couldn’t give instructions fromhere?”
“Mr. Thorne is a hands-on guy with certain things,” Tyler said. “The majority of our servers are in NewYork.”
“What are you not tellingme?”
My bodyguard cut a side-glance before looking straight at me. “It’s not my place to say and, in my personal opinion, I think Mr. Thorne should have talked to you himself. I think he’s foreseeing this business with the Russian mafia getting ugly and he’s shoring up his defenses where hecould.”
“Because I couldn’t tell him everything,” Iconcluded.
“Not judging, Ms. Callahan,” Tyler said. “But we need to be on the same page and soon. We need to know everything that the mob wants from you so we can protect it and use it forleverage.”
“I understand,” I said. I would talk to Liam soon. “I’ll see if Amelia will take a raincheck.”
* * *
It turnedout Amelia Thorne was a force to be reckoned with when she showed up at Grant’s house and whisked me away to a tiny Italian restaurant, Pepito’s, in Boston’s North End. It was a family restaurant and the owner was a childhood friend of the senator. Our security was camped out in the back alley and the entrance. Tyler and Morris, a member of the senator’s security team, were sitting at a table besideus.
Pepito himself took our orders and suggested a bottle of Barolo to go with our meal. After our bread basket arrived, Amelia gushed about the grassy and peppery notes of our olive oil dip. When our server was out of earshot though, she assessed me with a thoughtful look and asked, “How are you holding up,dear?”
“Surprisingly well.” My conversation with Tyler helped alleviate some of the angst Grant caused me when he left for New York without a word to me. That was an issue to settle face-to-face withhim.
“When Marcus told me this morning about the late-night meeting in his study, I immediately called Grant,” Amelia said. “I know my son. It took a lot for him not to relieve me of my guilt for sending him to that gala and getting himmugged.”
I blanched. “Grant never told me that you sent him to thegala.”
