Postcards From…Verses Brides Babies And Billionaires. Rebecca Winters

your advice to steer clear of the gallery.

      He shook his head. If he’d been able to take the day off to make sure she didn’t leave her apartment, he would have.

      He pushed down the worry and tried to prepare himself for the beat down he was about to get. For a brief second he’d toyed with the idea of lying, but he’d dismissed it just as quickly. Tough but fair, that was his motto. And he hadn’t gotten that way by being dishonest.

      “He’ll see you now,” Logan’s assistant said.

      Rhys pushed open the door and walked in with his head held high. Sure, he’d made a mistake but he was still the same person, still the same guy who prided himself on following the rules and doing the right thing.

      “What the fuck went down last night?” Logan raked a hand through his longish hair. “Sean Ainslie called me at the ass crack of dawn to say that you physically threatened him.”

      “Did he tell you that I threatened him after he attacked one of his staff members?” Rhys braced his hands on the back of a chair facing Logan’s desk.

      The room was bright and airy, thanks to a window that overlooked Manhattan. Yet no amount of sunlight could make this room feel warm and inviting. Logan had an air of authority that chilled even the warmest space.

      “He said that he’d gone to meet one of his employees to talk about a work issue and that you barged into her apartment and threatened to break his hands.” Logan shook his head. “For starters, what were you doing at her apartment after-hours?”

      “She lives in the same building as I do—her apartment is the one across the hall from mine. I heard yelling.”

      “So you know this woman…?” He looked down at his notes. “Wren Livingston.”

      “She was new to my building. We’d met a few times in passing before we started investigating Ainslie’s complaint.” He left out the bit where she’d showed him her erotic paintings. “But I didn’t know she worked for Ainslie until the day that Quinn and I went to the gallery.”

      “Did you make a note of it in your report?”

      “No.”

      His brows furrowed. “Why not?”

      “I didn’t think she was involved.”

      “You mean to tell me that you immediately ruled out the employee of a client with a security breach even though the signs pointed to it being an inside job?” Logan rubbed a hand over his face and exhaled. “Why would you do that?”

      “She didn’t appear to have any motive.”

      “And you determined that how?”

      This was where things got messy, because he’d determined it based on gut instinct, which wouldn’t fly with Logan. Hell, if one of Rhys’s employees had come to him with the same story, it wouldn’t have flown with him, either.

      “She didn’t appear to have the skills to break into Ainslie’s account.”

      “Because lurking in someone else’s email requires a lot of technical skill, does it?” Logan held up a hand. “That’s bullshit and you know it. I want you to be straight with me, Glover. Because I can tell something is going on here and I will not be kept in the dark.”

      Rhys drew in a long, deep breath. “Quinn and I came across information that indicated Sean Ainslie was assaulting his employees. Wren Livingston was able to corroborate this information for us, and then, last night, I saw it for myself. He came to her apartment and physically assaulted her. If I hadn’t overheard them fighting, she’d be in much worse shape than she is currently.”

      “How did evidence of assault come up in the course of a routine security monitoring job?” Logan dropped down into his seat, his expression guarded but his tone no longer filled with ice.

      Rhys ran Logan through everything they’d found—from the digging Quinn had done into Ainslie’s ex-employees to the conversations between Wren and Aimee.

      “But,” Rhys continued, “what tipped us off first was that he had a monitored security service for the building and some heavy-duty protection on his storage room, but no cameras.”

      “According to his file, we installed the alarm system for the building about eight years ago.” Logan leaned forward and looked at his laptop screen. “The security room was done five years ago. Since then we’ve only had the odd incident response call and two site visits for equipment maintenance. Nothing in here about security cameras.”

      “Don’t you think it’s odd to go to all that trouble with the outside of the building and for one room, but not to put cameras inside the place?”

      “That is unusual,” Logan said with a slow nod of his head. “But it’s not our job to investigate our clients. They hire us for a purpose and we fulfill that purpose. This is a service job, Rhys. We’re not the FBI.”

      “Is Ainslie still a client?”

      Logan sighed. “I told him to take a few days to calm down and that I’d talk to you about what happened last night. In the meantime, I have promised him that you won’t be going anywhere near him or Ainslie Ave.”

      “So you don’t think we should intervene if people are being hurt?”

      “I didn’t say that.” He motioned for Rhys to take a seat. That was Logan’s way of saying that he was willing to listen. “But I need you to be honest with me. Are you emotionally invested in this girl?”

      The question came out of nowhere. Rhys had been prepared to be asked if he was sleeping with Wren, if he felt she’d used sex to manipulate him. If he understood that getting physical with the employee of a client was wrong.

      But not this.

      “Answer the question, Glover.”

      It had started out physical. It was still physical. But last night had taken things to a whole new level, an emotional level. He’d slept with his arms around her, fearful that something might happen if he let her go. Even if that meant spending the night on her shitty mattress on the ground and waking up feeling like his spine had been turned into a pretzel.

      It wasn’t just that he was worried for her safety… He didn’t want her to go home to Idaho. Realization ebbed through him like a drug. This wasn’t just about seeing where things might go. He knew where they would go; he knew they would work together.

      They would be happy.

      “Yes,” he said, the word making him feel relieved and yet more burdened. “I’m emotionally invested.”

      “Wrong answer.” Logan stretched his neck from side to side. “If we’re potentially going to breach our service contract, I want to be damn sure we’re doing it for the right reason. And your heart is not the right reason.”

      “Is that your way of saying you believe me about Ainslie?”

      “I do. He’s always seemed like a cagey son of a bitch, but no one ever put two and two together before you and your team.” He drummed his fingers against the desktop, his expression still unreadable. Logan had a hell of a poker face. “But that doesn’t mean I’m stupid enough to keep you on this assignment. You’ll hand it over to Owen and he’ll run with it from now on. Quinn can support him and you can observe, but that’s it.”

      Okay, so at least he wasn’t getting fired.

      “What about Wren?” He knew it looked bad to even ask, but there was no way in hell he was letting anything happen to her. Pride be damned.

      “We’ll keep eyes on Ainslie while this all goes down.”

      “Thank you.”

      “You’re not off the hook, Rhys. Be thankful you still have a job, but I’ll expect you to work your ass off to get back in my good