Harlow frowned. “I don’t understand why she’s after me. I don’t gamble. I don’t even play poker or roulette, or whatever the hell people play at illegal gambling spots. I don’t know a Rhoda Pierce.”

“Does your father play?” Easton asked.

“What?” She shook her head. “He saves his gambling for business. I’ve only ever seen him play cards at a charity casino night my mother ran once.”

“Okay, well, Vander and I will make contact with Pierce,” Saxon said. “See what she has to say.”

Harlow slumped. “Everyone’s getting involved in this—”

Easton touched her jaw. “Hey. Keeping you safe is the most important thing.”

Her phone vibrated, then rang.

She gasped. “It’s my mom.” She felt a wild rush of relief. “Maybe Dad went up to see her. Hi, Mom.”

“Harlow?”

Her mother sounded distraught. “Mom?”

“Harlow, I can’t track down your father. He missed his doctor’s appointment this morning, and the medical center called me. He isn’t answering his phone.”

No. Harlow’s throat tightened. “Mom, try not to worry. He must have gotten caught up with something.”

“Harlow, he’s been upset for weeks. He always calls me at breakfast time when I’m away. He didn’t today.”

Harlow closed her eyes. “Okay. Relax. I’ll find him. You just enjoy your retreat.”

“Thank you, Harlow. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Call me when you find him.”

“I will,” Harlow replied woodenly. She looked at Easton. “My mom. Dad missed an appointment and she can’t get in touch with him.”

Easton cupped her face. “Don’t worry.”

“Easton—” All she could do was worry.

“I’ll find him.” His voice was laced with promise. “For you, I’ll find him.”

Chapter Nine

Harlow couldn’t believe she was in a swanky bar, sipping martinis in the middle of the afternoon.

“I should be at the office.”

“No, you shouldn’t.” Gia sipped her drink. “You’re stressed and worried. Besides, Easton isn’t there.”

No. He was out with Saxon, looking for Harlow’s dad.

“My life is a mess.”

“Oh, honey.” Gia squeezed her hand. “It’s going to be okay. Drink up.”

Harlow sipped her drink. She was on her second one. She turned her head and looked at the stone-faced man sitting with them. Her bodyguard.

Easton had commanded Gia to stay with Harlow until someone from Norcross Security had arrived at the office. That someone had been Rome Nash. Big and muscular, with delicious dark skin and a square jaw, Rome was a man of few words.

The handsome man had given Gia a look. “No trouble.”

“Who me?” Gia had winked, then demanded Rome take them to the bar at ONE65, the six-story, French venue. The bodyguard hadn’t been thrilled about it.

“I once dragged Rome into a coffee shop confrontation,” Gia said. “He still hasn’t forgiven me.”