Secrets Of The A-List Box Set, Volume 2. Cat Schield

her. She couldn’t pinpoint her feelings. Or understand them. This was Joe. Her friend. Maybe her best friend. The one constant in her life for so many years. When other friends came and went, Joe was always there. Harrison’s business partner, for sure. But more than that. A confidant.

      “I know I don’t.”

      “I miss him, too.”

      The heat in her throat intensified. She wasn’t prepared for this today. She had deliberately immersed herself in work to avoid thinking about how she truly felt about what was really happening in her world. No one and nothing had broken through her walls. Not her children, not the nosy journalists harassing her at every opportunity or the people she’d always considered her friends and who were now strangely absent from her life. Oh, they called, but Mariella suspected their motives weren’t entirely pure. A snippet of gossip was worth a lot in the tabloids. And friends, she discovered, could quickly disappear when there was a dollar to be made.

      Except for Joe Reynolds.

      He was a rock. Loyal and principled. And incorruptible when it came to being swayed by money or power.

      “I know you miss him,” she said quietly.

      He nodded. “I’m here for you. I’ve always been here for you. I always will be.”

      “I know that, too.” She sighed heavily, taking comfort from the way his fingers continued to move over hers. “I keep thinking that this is a terrible nightmare that I need to wake up from.”

      He caressed her wrist gently. “It is a nightmare. But not one that you have to endure alone.”

      “I don’t feel alone right now,” she admitted.

      “Good,” he said. “I’m glad.”

      “I just need to stay busy,” she told him and pointed to the computer. “The business still needs to run.”

      “You know I’ll hold up my end of things, Mariella,” he assured her. “Always. For Harrison...and for you.”

      She nodded. “I know you will. And I appreciate the support. It would be all too easy to give up.”

      “I know what you mean,” he admitted. “Tell me, are you sleeping?”

      She shook her head. “Not much. Too many dreams.”

      “Same.” He ran his free hand through his thick hair. “Sometimes I wish I could sleep through this whole thing.”

      “Me too.” She managed a small, ironic smile. “But since my husband isn’t awake, I don’t allow myself to think that for too long.”

      Joe nodded, still stroking her skin. “So the doctors haven’t offered any more news?”

      She shook her head. “I’ve been dealing with specialists for days. Each one tells me something different from the last. Try this. Do that. Take him there. Leave him where he is.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “Honestly, I don’t know what to do.”

      “I wish I could bring him back for you,” he said raggedly.

      Mariella blinked the heat from her eyes. “Me too.”

      “But I know I can’t,” he said and circled her wrist with his long fingers, stroking, making goose bumps across her skin. “I feel so freaking helpless. And I’m sorry the doctors haven’t been able to offer any solutions...or...”

      “Hope?” she finished for him and nodded a little. “Hope is all I have.”

      “Not all,” he said gently. “You have me.”

      Mariella’s throat tightened. “Thank you.”

      “If only I could do something to help.”

      “You’re helping now,” she said and smiled. “More than you know. And you shouldn’t blame yourself, Joe.”

      “I can’t help it,” he said. “I should have sensed that something wasn’t right. If Harrison has enemies, if someone forced him off the road and caused the accident, then as his friend and partner, I should have seen this coming. I should have known he was in trouble.”

      “You don’t have a crystal ball. None of us do.” She sighed. “And honestly, if anyone is at fault, it’s me.”

      “You?”

      She shrugged. “I’m Harrison’s wife. The mother of his children. Closer to him than anyone else. And I didn’t sense anything different about him. If he was in trouble, he wasn’t talking about it.”

      He didn’t look convinced. “I should have known. Maybe if I hadn’t been so wrapped up in other things I would have been prepared. I could have fixed this and—”

      Mariella pulled her hand away instantly. I could have fixed this. Her suspicions surged, and she got to her feet, pulling her wrap around her waist. Alarm bells pealed. Could it be true? Was it as obvious as this? Was Joe the Fixer?

      She glared at him, and he looked bewildered. “What?” he asked and stood up slowly.

      “Exactly. What?”

      Joe took a step around the table, and she immediately backed up. “Mariella?”

      “Are you the Fixer?”

      He shook his head and then laughed a little. “Of course not.”

      “But you said...”

      “I meant I should have seen this coming, that’s all,” he assured her. “I’m not the Fixer.”

      “Then who is?” she demanded. “And why can’t you find out? We have the paper trail, the bank accounts, the proof of money changing hands. The evidence is there. All we need is a name, and once we get that name, I’m certain it will lead us to whoever is responsible for my husband’s accident.”

      “You’re convinced there is a link?” he asked quietly.

      She nodded. “Absolutely. And I need to know. A part of me is so angry with Harrison for being a part of all this and putting us at risk. I feel as though the Fixer is somehow involved in the accident. I’m not sure how, but I feel it.”

      “Maybe Harrison’s involvement is more about wanting to protect the family rather than hurt it?”

      “Always his greatest advocate,” she said, her tone brittle. “Even when he’s not here. The truth is, I have no idea what my husband’s role is in all this, but I will find out the truth.”

      “And I’ll help you if I can.”

      Mariella wasn’t quite sure she believed him. There was a sudden uneasiness in Joe’s demeanor. She noticed that he didn’t look right—he looked out of sorts, as though he had some great burden pressing down on his shoulders. He’d assured her that he wasn’t the Fixer. If not that, then what was shaking him up so much?

      “What’s wrong, Joe?” she demanded. “Why do you look so...so...odd?”

      He swallowed hard, and Mariella watched, mesmerized as his strong throat moved. His eyes were burning into hers, his expression suddenly unreadable. Something was going on. Something big.

      “Joe,” she said again. “What is it? What are you thinking?” It occurred to her that he might know more than he was letting on. “Do you know who tried to kill my husband?”

      He shook his head and stepped closer. “No.”

      “Then what is it?”

      His attention was unwavering. Had a man ever looked at her with such scorching intensity before? He was close, barely a foot away from her. The air between them was burning up.

      “Don’t you know, Mariella?”

      She didn’t know what to think, what to feel. What to say.

      Mariella took another tiny stride