I set my elbows on the island. “I’m going to talk to Gideon about working with his Crossroads Foundation.”
“Hell. Why didn’t you think of that before?”
“Because . . . I’m stubborn, I guess.” I glanced over my shoulder at the living room, then lowered my voice. “One of the things Gideon likes about me is that I don’t always do everything he wants just because he wants it. He’s not like Stanton.”
“And you don’t want to be like your mom. Does this mean you’re keeping your maiden name?”
“No way. It means a lot to Gideon for me to become Eva Cross. Besides, it sounds kick-ass.”
“It does.” He tapped the end of my nose with his finger. “I’m here for you when you need me.”
Sliding off the stool, I hugged him. “Same goes.”
“I’m taking you up on that, obviously.” His chest heaved with a deep sigh. “Big changes happening, baby girl. You ever get scared?”
I looked up at him, feeling the affinity that had gotten us both through some hard times. “More than I let myself think about.”
“I have to run to the office,” Gideon interjected, stepping back into the kitchen wearing a Yankees ball cap. He’d kept the same gray T-shirt on but had swapped out his pajama bottoms for sweats. A ring of keys twirled around his finger. “I won’t be long.”
“Is everything all right?” I asked, backing away from Cary. My husband was wearing his game face, the one that told me his mind was already on whatever he was going to deal with.
“Everything’s fine.” He came to me and gave me a quick kiss. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Ireland won’t be here ’til six.”
He left. I stared after him.
What was important enough to drag him away from me on a weekend? Gideon was possessive about a lot of things when it came to me, but our time together topped the list. And the key-twirling thing was kind of weird. Gideon wasn’t a man given to wasted movement. The only times I’d seen him fidget were when he was completely relaxed or the opposite—ready to throw down.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something from me. As usual.
“I’m gonna take a shower,” Cary said, grabbing a bottled water out of the fridge. “You want to watch a movie when I get out?”
“Sure,” I said absently. “Sounds like a plan.”
I waited until he’d gone back into the attached apartment, then went to find my phone.
11
“WHERE’S EVA?”
I rounded the front of the Benz and stepped onto the curb in front of Brett Kline. My fingers twitched, the habit of extending my hand in greeting ruthlessly suppressed. The singer’s hands had touched my wife intimately in the past . . . and recently. I didn’t want to shake them. I wanted to break them.
“At our home,” I answered, gesturing at the entrance to the Crossfire Building. “Let’s go up to my office.”
Kline smiled coldly. “You can’t keep me from her.”
“You did that all by yourself.” I noted the worn Pete’s T-shirt he was wearing with black jeans and leather boots. Without a doubt, his choice of attire wasn’t a coincidence. He wanted to remind Eva of their history together. Maybe even remind me, too. Had Yimara given him the idea? I wouldn’t be surprised.
It was the wrong move for both men to have made.
He walked through the revolving doors ahead of me. Security took his information and printed out a temporary ID, then we headed through the turnstiles to the elevators.
“You can’t intimidate me with your money,” he said tightly.
I entered the car and hit the button for the top floor. “There are eyes and ears all over the city. At least in my office, I know we won’t be putting on a show.”
His lip curled in disgust. “Is that all you care about? Public perception?”
“An ironic question, considering who you are and what you want.”