“Business with the wrong people can lead to things like this,” Morgan said. “I don’t have to educate you on that.”

Reid nodded solemnly.

He knew something. Something he’d better fucking tell me when I could get him alone. I’d been thrown into this raging fire against my will, and I needed all the information available.

“I’m going to need access to all your father’s business records. I need names of people he clashed with in business.”

“You’re going to be looking for a needle in a haystack,” Reid said.

“Understood. But I’ve found those needles before. I intend to find it this time.”

“I don’t get it,” I said. “I’ve been gone since I was eighteen years old. Not one of my father’s business contacts would know anything about me. Who would want to drag me into this?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Wolfe. But I will do my best to find out.”

22

Lacey

The cab dropped me at my apartment. I whisked quickly past the doorman and stood, waiting for the elevator.

Horny and waiting for the elevator.

This was so crazy. Rock was a jerk. A really sexy and hot jerk, but a jerk, nonetheless. Oh, he was definitely his father’s son, a comparison he’d hate.

Derek Wolfe had been a huge womanizer and had left a string of broken hearts in his wake. He’d cheated on his wife, Connie, and then on his girlfriend, Fonda. It was no secret at my firm. One of my partners handled the hush money, and it amounted to millions.

Rock Wolfe didn’t have any money. Well, he did now. But before now, I had no doubt that he’d left a lot of broken hearts behind in Montana. Like father, like son.

God, he’d hate that.

No matter how true it was.

Time to forget about Rock Wolfe. The elevator dinged, and my neighbor, Paul Hansen, walked out.

“Hey, Lace. What are you up to tonight?”

“A hot bath.”

Paul was dressed to kill in casual black pants, a red cotton button-down, and a black leather blazer. With his blond hair, hazel eyes, and fair skin, he was handsome and sexy. But he was nothing like Rock Wolfe. The anti-Rock.

“Are you kidding? The night is young. I’m meeting some friends for a drink. You should come.”

I looked down at my wrinkled work clothes. “Maybe another time.”

“You look like you could use some fun. Just one drink. I’m buying.” He grabbed my arm. “Come on.”

I sighed. Why not? “At least let me change first.”

“Why? You look great, as always.”

I could feel the bags under my eyes. I had to at least check my face. But before I could, he was pulling me out the door. We grabbed a cab, and within a few minutes, Paul was leading me into a bar.