Enemy's Secret - Ashlee Price Page 0,41

mass 'hey's' that used to be Nolan's signature.

But I'm not in the fucking mood. Not to stretch my face into a smile, contort my voice into some sort of lie.

Right now, I need to be alone.

**

Next day, I stalk into the office like a tiger for prey.

It's not hard to find. We're out of half a dozen office supplies, haven't had a team meeting in weeks, and there's a bunch of paperwork I let slide.

How could I have let things slide so completely?

It only takes me a couple of manic, rage-fueled hours to get caught up, though.

I schedule a meeting with Dirk, who's grim but won't throw in the towel yet. Which is good, since that's what we're fucking paying him for.

Back at my office, while I'm sorting through mail - 97% of which is complete garbage - Greyson calls me up. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," I say.

"You busy? I can call back."

"Just doing mail. It's not important."

"You're in a productive mood."

"What can I say, I'm a productive guy." I can't resist adding: "You don't have to worry about the Kyra thing anymore either."

"Ah."

"I'm an idiot," I add.

"You been talking to Nolan?"

"No, but he was right."

"Shit. I'm sorry."

"It's OK. Just pissed I let things get this far."

Silence. I can almost hear the gears turning in Greyson's head. "Got plans tonight?"

"No. Why?"

"Come have dinner with Harley and me. We snagged a table at La Caverna."

"You don't have to do that. I'm not a wreck."

"I want to. Come on, it's been a while."

"I don't know..."

"Up to you." Never did I think there'd be a time I called Greyson 'indefatigably cheerful', but here we are. "But I'm pretty sure Nolan wanted to take you out to O'Malley's, so you could avoid that."

"I'm in," I say immediately.

For whatever reason, Nolan's obsessed with that Irish hovel with horrible food and perpetually bickering though busty waitresses.

Greyson chuckles. "Great. See you at seven."

Sure enough, a few hours later, Nolan calls me up for a 'long-overdue-dinner at a premier establishment', which I have to, unfortunately, decline.

The rest of the day, I continue my fury of productivity. It keeps me from checking my phone too much, seeing as I know already what I'd find there: a grand total of nothing.

Once seven rolls around, I head to the restaurant.

Harley and Greyson are already there in the entry, both dressed to the nines and looking obnoxiously happy.

"Isn't this place cool?" Harley enthuses, her gesture to cavey surroundings making the low lights illuminate her silver dress and jewelry. "Oh, and hey there."

We give each other a light hug.

"How's Dakota doing?" I ask dutifully.

She chuckles. "You don't have to feign interest, you know. I know you and the other brothers are about as interested in kids as you are in starfish. Though I appreciate you asking - he's good. Starting to talk already."

I chuckle too. "Got me. You look great, though."

"Careful now," Greyson says lightly.

"Didn't mean it like that," I return easily.

Harley just grins, then flexes her bicep. "I've taken up this new yoga regimen."

"La Caverna," Greyson says, purposely a bit loud, smiling at the echo his voice makes. "Place is well-named."

"Let's see if the food is good too," Harley says, hooking her arm in his.

I let them go a bit ahead of me, watching them. They make it look so easy. Guess it is when you're with the right one.

Now, as for me and Kyra...

Not thinking about it.

"How are things with you?" Harley asks me after we sit down. "You enjoying being President?"

I shrug. "Not sure enjoying is the word."

"Babe." Greyson takes Harley's hand and squeezes it. "You don't enjoy being President - you bear it."

"Oh." She giggles. "My mistake."

"Should I even ask about the court case?" Greyson asks.

"Better you don't," I say, hands clenched on the edge of the table.

Another one of my fuck-ups. Hopefully not an irrevocable one, though.

Just then, the waitress comes, notepad at the ready, so we order. I'm about to order a bottle of wine when Greyson stops me. "We didn't want to tell anyone, but... Harley's expecting."

"Again?" Cue smile. "Congratulations, you two!"

Harley wrinkles her nose. "I know: again. Guess it'll be nice to get them over with."

She and Greyson crack up.

"It's fine," I tell the waitress, "I'll still take the wine."

I grin at Harley and Greyson. "More for me."

Once the waitress has left, Harley fixes me with a worried smile. "You OK? Greyson told me about..."

"I'm fine."

Greyson squeezes her shoulder lightly. "Told you, babe. Landon probably doesn't want to talk about it."

"What happened, though?" Harley asks,