Vander winced, swiveled, and strode off to his office at the end of the floor. It was the only one with walls. The rest of the space was divided by glass walls. She glanced around and spotted Rhys kicked back in the desk chair in one of the offices. He was focused on the large computer screen in front of him, phone pressed to his ear. God, these Norcross brothers sure were eye candy.

Harlow turned back to the file room and decided to get to work. It would keep her busy, and keep her mind off things.

It took a few hours, not counting a quick lunch break, but she was finally done. She stood back and blew a strand of hair out of her face. Her arm was throbbing, but the end result was a neatly organized file room.

Rhys walked past and stopped. He raised a brow. “We’ll never find anything.”

She snorted. “Do you ever come in here?”

He grinned—and it was a sexy one. “Hell, no.”

Harlow rolled her eyes. She strolled through the main area, considering heading toward the coffee machine, when her phone pinged. She saw it was a call from Easton. “Hi.”

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“Fine. I just reorganized Vander’s file room.”

“He has a file room?”

She laughed. “A now-organized one. How’s work?”

“Busy. I like it better when you’re here. I think I made Gina cry.”

“Easton!”

“Hang on—” she heard a muffled voice talking to him “—I have to go. Meeting.”

“Okay.” She paused, wondering if she should say this. “Um, love you.”

He was silent for a beat. “I love you, too.”

She ended the call and grinned to herself. Despite the craziness and worry, she was in love with a hot, sexy man. A protective man, who could cook. Oh, and also happened to be a billionaire.

She pressed her hands to her hips. Now, she needed something to do. Something that wasn’t reorganizing the rest of the Norcross Security office. She wanted to help find her dad and get this stressful situation sorted before someone else got hurt.

She strode down the row of offices. She peeked through one doorway and found a medical room, which was surprisingly organized. Then she stopped at another door.

There were no windows in this one, and the walls were covered in flat screens. Ace was sitting in the center at a desk, sipping a large travel mug of coffee.

“Wow, this looks like mission control at NASA,” she said.

Ace flicked two fingers at her. “Nope. And I was NSA, not NASA.”

He was looking outrageously handsome today. He wore a checked shirt with his sleeves rolled up. His dark hair was in a short ponytail, and she wondered what it looked like when it was down.

“You doing all right?” he asked.

“Fine. Anxious and worried, but my gunshot wound is fine.”

Ace grinned at her.