Seth shook his head. “I’m not entirely sure. He and I aren’t exactly cozy. I know he’s been out of town on work lately. Investment opportunities or some bullshit. Seems to be more often than not, but I don’t have a sense on specifics.”
Tommy nodded, tapped something else on his iPad. “That’s where I come in. My job is to get the specifics and get them to you so you can make an informed decision about the next steps you need to take.”
Seth swallowed. He was doing this. He was really going to hire this man.
Tommy slid his iPad back into his bag and then leaned forward, the alert sharpness of his expression telling Seth that there was a shrewdness hiding behind the easy smiles.
“All you have to do is say the word, and I’m on it,” Tommy said.
Seth gave a half smile. “Why do I get the feeling there’s a warning in there somewhere?”
Tommy didn’t smile back. “I’m discreet. Your sister and Garrett will never know I’ve looked into him unless you want them to.”
“But?”
“But, the toll of these things often isn’t paid by the person I’m following.”
“Believe me, I’m very aware who’s paying for this,” Seth replied wryly. Tommy Franklin was not cheap.
“That’s not what I mean,” Tommy said, looking a little grimmer. “I’m saying that invading the privacy of a loved one, even if it’s in their best interest as it is here, can wreak emotional havoc.”
The PI’s words struck a chord, but Seth kept his voice impassive. “I’d rather lose sleep over my own guilt than worry over my sister’s future.”
Tommy studied him a bit longer, but he seemed to see the resolve on Seth’s face, because he nodded, clapped his hands against his legs, and then stood, hand outstretched. “We’re in business, then.”
Seth hesitated only briefly before shaking Tommy Franklin’s hand.
The moment he did, Seth became horribly aware he’d made a deal with the devil.
Only in this case, the devil wasn’t the private detective so much as it was the cold chunk of ice that lived in Seth’s heart.
Tommy had already explained his payment terms over email, but Seth listened as the other man explained them once more. Half up front. A quarter more with the first report, due in a month or shorter. The last quarter when the job was done.
The men shook hands once more, and Seth showed Tommy to the door. Seth’s hand was just reaching for the door handle when the door burst open from the other side.
“Yo, Tyler. Take me to lunch, and tell me every detail about what’s going on with your wedding planner hottie,” Grant said, striding into the office with the confidence of a man who’d done so a hundred times before without knocking.
Seth’s best friend halted when he saw that Seth wasn’t alone. “Ah. Shit. Shit. Sorry, man. Etta said you didn’t have anything on your calendar when I called earlier this morning.”
Fuck.
Seth didn’t have anything on his calendar. He’d purposely asked Etta to keep his lunch hour free so he could catch up on email, and then insisted Etta take her dopey intern to some overpriced lunch so he could meet with the private detective in peace.
A peace that was shot to hell now that Grant was studying the other man curiously.
Tommy Franklin was no slob, but he also wasn’t wearing the usual Tyler Hotel Group business uniform that other men wore. There was no suit, no monochromatic tie. Grant would know immediately that this wasn’t a standard business meeting.
Double fuck.
Tommy gave a polite but bland smile and slipped out the door with little more than a nod to Seth and Grant. It was nicely done. A subtle way of escaping without introductions, and yet there was no sense of rudeness or awkwardness. Just a simple straightforward exit.
Any other acquaintance of Seth’s would have dropped it without a second thought.
Unfortunately for Seth, Grant was not any acquaintance.
“Who was that?” Grant asked, curiosity shining through his brown eyes.
“Nobody,” Seth muttered, shutting the door and heading back toward his desk.
It was the wrong thing to say. Not only was Grant annoyingly inquisitive by nature, he also knew Seth too damned well. Knew when he was lying.
“You would have put nobody on your calendar,” Grant said. “And nobody wouldn’t have required you sending Etta out to lunch when it’s not her birthday.”
“Not true,” Seth muttered. “I send her out in the week before Christmas sometimes. She likes to go see the tree