Trapped with Mr. Walker: A fake dating steamy romance (The Men Series – Interconnected Standalone Romances Book 6)
Trapped with Mr. Walker: Chapter 29

I WALK AROUND THE corner toward my office and can make out Stuart on a call with someone.

“I’m glad you agreed to it. I know someone else who will be extremely happy to see you.” His laugh echoes down the hallway, and as I turn the corner, he’s leaning back in one of the chairs that surround the meeting table. His eyes meet mine and his expression remains unchanged. But I sense that he wasn’t expecting me yet. I stepped out to get us both a coffee, my turn this time, and the line was unusually non-existent. I’ve been gone half the time it would usually take.

“Okay. See you later.”

I place his cup down on the desk in front of him as I walk around it and place mine down, unfastening my jacket before sitting down. He takes a sip without meeting my eyes.

“Thanks. You even got it right. Hot and dark, just like me.”

I smirk and shake my head. “Don’t you mean bitter and ready to scald if mishandled?”

“Ouch. You just described my ex-girlfriend.”

I run my hand over my jaw, amusement creasing my eyes and quirking my lips.

“Careful. All this frowning you’ve done the past couple of days, your face might fall off if you now expect it to perform something resembling a smile.”

“Fuck off,” I fire back.

Stuart’s shoulders shake and then he draws in a breath and sighs as he looks at me.

“Harley?”

“What about her?”

“Your setting is a degree above arctic compared to yesterday. Have you seen her?”

“No.” I look around the room as I lean back in my chair, before bringing my eyes back to meet Stuart’s. “But I spoke to her last night.”

“And?”

“And nothing.”

“Fine.” He holds his hands up. “Just give me the heads up if your relationship status changes, will you? The press will have a field day if you’re back together.”

“We aren’t.” I take a sip of my coffee, resisting the urge to crumple the cup in my hand at the reminder that we are not together. Not even close.

But speaking to her last night is a start. Hearing the hesitation in her voice and her admitting that she wishes she could talk to me; it’s all the confirmation I needed.

Something is forcing her away from me. And if I replace out it’s a who, then they’re going to beg for a quick death.

Nothing in the world is worse to me than Harley’s tears. And I could hear them, clear as anything last night when she was pretending to be asleep. She forgets how well I know her. How many times I’ve watched her fall asleep first in my arms. How many times I’ve woken before her and just laid listening to her soft breaths.

She can’t hide from me.

I know every part of her. Her body and her quirks, what makes her laugh, smile, and feel anxious.

The only thing I can’t read is her mind when she’s closed off from me and keeping her distance. She knows as well as I do that if I were to see her face to face, she would have a much harder time hiding her true feelings from me. And that knowledge is only fueling me further. There’s a reason she doesn’t want to see me. There’s something she doesn’t want me to know.

I intend to replace out what the fuck it is that’s got her running.

I spend the morning working on my commissioner and deputy mayor announcement. Stuart heads out early, saying he needs a longer lunch as he has Paige to watch for his sister. Finishing up my speech quicker than I expected, I decide to do the same and leave half an hour after him.

“All right?” Griffin asks as I walk up the steps to The Songbird’s main entrance, toward where he is standing chatting with the doorman.

I greet them both and then the two of us head inside and to one of the smaller restaurants The Songbird has. I wait until we’re sat at the table and the server has taken our order before I lean my forearms on the table and drop my voice.

“There’s something going on with Harley.”

“I know.” Griffin meets my eyes, his mouth turned down as he runs a hand down over his tie.

I pull back in confusion at his bluntness. “What do you mean, you know?”

He rolls his lips, his eyes never leaving mine as he picks his next words carefully. “She came to me for help a few days ago. She didn’t want me to tell you.”

“A few days. Jesus fucking Christ,” I hiss across the table, leaning closer. His words making a realization dawn on me. A few days is before she left… right after the election.

I knew something was wrong.

Griffin’s eyes narrow, but he stays in the same calm, unflustered pose while I’m about ready to leap over the table and squeeze it out of him. It’s been years since we had a fallout that ended in fists. In fact, it’s been since we were kids, but I’m not totally opposed to making him talk.

“Calm the fuck down,” he says quietly, without moving.

I glance side to side in the restaurant. It’s getting busier, filling up with the lunchtime crowd of business guests, and those here for pleasure, their tables surrounded by bags from every store on Fifth Avenue.

“We’ve been friends for years, Reed. You know I’ve got your back. The reason I didn’t tell you sooner wasn’t only out of loyalty to Harley, but also because I had to know what I was bringing to you first. I needed to understand it myself.”

I force myself to take a couple of deep breaths and ease back into my seat. As much as I hate to admit it, Griffin’s right. I’ve done the same for him in the past. Sat on something until I’ve known the right time to tell him. It’s what friends do. Look out for each other. I’m sure he wanted to pound my face in at the time, too. But in hindsight, he knew I had made the right call. I hope this time he has. Plus, causing a scene in the restaurant is not going to help me get Harley back any quicker.

“Is she in trouble?” I struggle to keep my voice even as I stare at him with wide eyes, no doubt filled with desperation.

“No. You are.”

“What?”

I lean back as our server returns with our drinks. My eyes are fixed on Griffin’s across the table as she sets two large scotches that Griffin ordered down on the table and then fills two glasses with iced water before leaving us.

“Big enough trouble that I need a scotch in the middle of the day, huh?” I grimace and knock half of it back in one.

“Someone’s been trying to blackmail her.” Griffin holds his glass around the rim, swirling it slowly so the amber liquid rolls around inside catching the light.

“What the hell? Who? Why? Are they using the honey trapping against her?” Blood races through my veins and my grip grows so tight on my glass that I have to force myself to loosen my fingers before it shatters all over the white linen tablecloth.

“We’ll get to that,” Griffin replies, his eyes fixed on mine.

“Why the hell didn’t she tell me? Is she okay, is she… Fuck, Griff. How could she not tell me?” I search his eyes, and he slowly places his glass down before he speaks.

“She has her reasons. I don’t agree with them. But she’s doing what she thinks is best… for you.”

“For me? What the…?” I shake my head, my thoughts reeling over Harley and what she’s been going through. I should have done something. I should have pushed harder to replace out what was wrong. “Is she okay? That’s all I care about. That she’s okay.”

Griffin nods once, as calm and collected as ever. But I know it’s a front. Beneath the surface, he will be incessant with rage like me. Griffin hates anyone trying to exploit someone else. And with good reason from his history when someone he trusted betrayed him and stole from him.

He will be ready to start a war. He’s just better at hiding it than me.

“She’s okay. They can’t hurt her, Reed.”

My shoulders drop as I exhale.

Thank God.

“But they want to use her to get to you. They want her to persuade you to re-select George Yates.”

“That fucking corrupt bastard?” I lean over the table again, dropping my head into my hand and pressing my finger and thumb into my eye sockets. “His morals stink worse than our old fraternity house bathroom after that party with the firebomb jello shots.”

“They sure do.” Griffin smirks at the memory.

“I don’t need a magic ball to guess why. It’ll be something to do with Dennis Vincent. He’s a shady motherfucker. And I always knew the two of them were close. You don’t turn up with a new sports car a week after a known drugs ringleader gets a convenient pardon from the mayor.”

“Exactly. The city is better off since it took out the trash.” Griffin takes a sip of his drink and eyes me over the glass. “Whoever it is has gone after Harley. Not you. They’re using her feelings for you against her. They must think they wouldn’t be able to influence your decisions, but that she would. That she would be able to make you choose the name they fed her. If she hadn’t left, that is.”

“If she hadn’t left.” I swirl the rest of the scotch in my glass, then tip my head back and finish it. “You were right,” I say to Griffin. “Scotch, in the middle of the day, was a good idea.”

Griffin grunts. “When we’re talking blackmail, scotch at any time of day is a good idea.”

“It’s got to be someone with something to gain. Someone who wants George Yates back in a position to be their little bitch for them at the NYPD. I still don’t know why they went after Harley. What do they have they can hold over her?”

“They have her feelings for you. That’s what they were preying on. You two were the city’s golden couple. One look at any picture of you two online together or in the paper, and people could see she would do anything for you, just by the way she looked at you. She thinks if she keeps away from you that they will stop. They’ll stop thinking she’s useful to them if she isn’t with you. She’s not stupid. She knows we have to replace them, otherwise, they’ll replace another way. But she’s doing what she thinks she has to.”

Lightness overcomes my chest, making my head spin. I was right. I knew that talk about the press attention and living at Gracie Mansion was a pile of shit. She’s my Angel, and every single second between us was real and meant something to her. Hearing Griffin confirm it has relief spreading through my veins, like oxygen.

She never wanted to leave. She thought she had to.

“How, though? What are they expecting her to do? Persuade me to select someone else? Then what? Come back to her with something else to do, then something else, and on and on? What would they have done if she couldn’t persuade me? Why would they even approach her and not me? Is it the honey trapping? Or something else? Are they threatening her family? Her brother Brett is—”

“I know.” Griffin relaxes in his chair slightly. “I know about Brett, and that she sends money to help her mom. It doesn’t involve them. But they are threatening to hurt someone she cares about.”

“Who?”

“You.”

“They can bring it the fuck on!” I bang my fist on the table, making the cutlery and glasses shake. I turn and give an apologetic nod to the table nearest to us.

I look back at Griffin and meet his cool blue gaze. “There is nothing they can do to me that can warrant Harley thinking she needs to keep away from me. She means everything to me.”

“I know she does. Welcome to the club. Our balls might as well have a neon sign hung on them advertising that they now belong to Maria and Harley.”

“Not just my balls, Griff.” My lips pull into a small smile. “She owns every fucking part of me. And I would give her more if I could.”

“You’ve always been a romantic underneath, eh?” Griffin’s lips twitch.

“Takes one to know one.”

Griffin chuckles. “I suppose it does.”

“So now you need to tell me. What the fuck is this asshole holding over her? What has her thinking it’s so bad that she can’t come to me about it? What’s made her run? Tell me.”

I crack my knuckles as I wait for him to answer.

“Tell me what stupid fucker thinks they can threaten my girl and get away with it?”