Grace Anne - By Kathi S. Barton Page 0,17

spine.

“Did you really think I’d not find you? You’re as stupid as those cunt sisters of yours if you thought that. When I find you, and never doubt that I will, I’m going to enjoy killing you. Killing you so that I can get what I want.”

Michael picked up the phone as the person continued. “Who is this?” He looked at her and paled. Then he put the phone down in the cradle and walked toward her. Stalked would have been a better term. “Come with me. Now.”

She suddenly found herself in her office. It was cramped and with him in the room, it seemed smaller. When she was sitting on her little couch with her head between her knees she saw her tears falling to her shoes. She didn’t want to cry in front of this man more than any other person she’d known.

“I get those sorts of calls all the time,” she told him from her bent position. “It’s not that big of deal. And you had no right to answer—”

“She knew my son’s name. She told me that if I was smart, I’d take Trace away from here before whoever it was came after him too.”

She brought her head up and looked at him as he continued.

“Now, we’re going to calmly talk about this and you’re going to tell me truthfully if this is the reason you’re selling this building to me.”

The knock at her office door didn’t really give her any reprieve. She’d hoped that his family wanted to go and they wanted him to come with them, but she wasn’t that lucky. Michael told them that they’d meet them in the restaurant and that she and he would be there soon. The door was closed again before she could voice that she wasn’t going anywhere.

Chapter 6

Michael watched her as she stared at her lap. He wanted to pick her up and shake the truth from her, but knew that he’d only upset her more. Instead, he looked around the small office. He was both impressed and horrified at what was there.

The desk was huge. He couldn’t believe how big. But he could see that it was more of a workstation with a computer than it was a working desk. He didn’t know why, but he thought she’d have her real desk, one that she’d do her business on, somewhere on the upper floors. This one was for putting together her business.

The array of colors around the room were a little too much for him, but the more he stared at them, the more he could see that they weren’t just thrown about like he’d first thought, but in an order that he could see now had been thought out, colors and patterns together along with buttons, zippers, and other things like ribbons and things; he’d never guess what they were in a million years. The mannequins, several of them with materials draped over them in layers, stood in a long line; a large container of scissors sat on a tray along with a stapler and rolls of tape. She was designing things with not only style, but with colors, patterns, and accessories. He turned back to her when she started to speak.

“If you just leave me alone they’ll leave you alone too. They only threatened you because you…they think you might mean something to me. I’m sure that once you buy the building—”

“You think you can hide from them and that selling me the building will give you the money to do it, don’t you?” When she looked at him he could see the truth of his words in her face. “It won’t work. They may give up on Trace and myself, but they will eventually find you again and then what? Do you want to keep running from it, or simply wait until they find some other family you attach yourself to in order to get to you?”

“I never asked you and your family to come here. I never asked you to bring your son into my life that day. I was doing just fine until you had to have my building.” She stood up and he nearly smiled at the fire. He liked this much better than the beaten girl she’d just been.

“No, you didn’t. But now we are.” He watched her pace and tried to regain control of his wayward thoughts, thoughts of stripping her down and seeing what delights she had on under those soft, flannel pants and t-shirt. “Who is