Obsession (Explicitly Yours 4)

“You’ll have to learn to deal with being alone, Brigitte. I don’t want company right now.”

She plumped her lower lip. “I’ll try not to take that personally. What’s the matter?”

Beau removed everything from his pockets into a dish on the counter. He didn’t need Brigitte in his business, adding her two cents at every juncture. “Long day. That’s all.”

“You’ve been so distant since you kicked me out. You know I don’t do well on my own, Beau.”

He picked up the clean pile of mail his housekeeper had organized and sorted. “I’ve had a lot on my plate. And I didn’t kick you out. There just wasn’t enough room here for both you and her.”

“Does that mean I can come back?”

Beau glanced up. Her eyebrows were raised. So that was why she was there—to scope things out and see if he might be distracted enough to let her back in. He didn’t have the energy to argue, and it made no difference to him if she was there. His house had turned from sanctuary to hell now that he’d glimpsed a life he couldn’t have. And Brigitte there, cooking for him, was a thorny reminder. “I don’t care. Just take off that fucking apron.”

Beau’s phone rang. He checked the screen, saw it was Bragg, and cleared it. He’d call him as soon as he went upstairs to change. If he rushed off to his study, Brigitte would pick at him until he spilled everything to her.

“Who was that?”

“Nobody.” Beau opened a bill and tossed it aside, having already paid it online. He made a note to switch it over to e-mail and picked up another envelope, avoiding Brigitte’s penetrating stare, her loud silence. Finally, he sighed and looked up. “What?”

“It’s about her, isn’t it?”

“Who?”

“Come on, Beau. You know who. There’s something going on with Lola.”

“I hardly think of her.”

“You must think I’m blind. Tell me.”

Beau slid his mail away and set his elbows on the counter, rubbing his face. He wasn’t as annoyed with Brigitte as he tried to be. Bragg had been his only confidante in over a week, and all the detective cared about was facts. Those sporadic, nonsensical facts were insignificant compared to how Lola’s void actually made him feel.

“I found her,” he said.

Brigitte’s back straightened. “I didn’t even know you were looking for her.”

“I wasn’t. Detective Bragg was. I hired him when she left.” He shut his eyes and shook his head. “Says she’s in Missouri.”

“Missouri?” Brigitte asked. “What the hell is she doing there?”

“I have no idea. Other than one hotel charge, there’s no other activity on her credit card.”

Slowly, Brigitte’s eyes widened as she inclined her head toward him. “You tracked her credit card?”

Beau nodded. That was minor in comparison to interrogating Lola’s closest friends and family, but he decided to keep that to himself—Brigitte’s eyebrows were already halfway up her forehead. “Yes, but there were no charges over the last eight days. Now there’s one pending.”

“Oh.” She crossed her arms, curling her nails into her biceps. “So you’re going to go find her?”

“No,” Beau said immediately. “I sent Bragg.”

Brigitte tilted her head fractionally. “How come?”

Beau didn’t know how to answer that. He knew he should just leave her alone, for both their sakes. He didn’t want to, though. He was hurt. He still loved her. But above all, he was angry with her. He couldn’t walk away, and he couldn’t go after her himself. That would tell her she was worth something to him. She was, but Beau wanted to smother that feeling, not nurture it.

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Money gave Beau the gift to waste someone else’s time instead of his. Bragg would handle everything. He’d bring Lola back kicking and screaming if Beau asked him to. Throw her at his feet. And Beau would get his answers.

“I have to stay close to the office,” he said. “I don’t have time to chase her down. I just want to know where she is before I decide…”

Their eyes met. Brigitte turned her back to him and put on her oven mitts, but she didn’t move beyond that. “What’ll you do if you find her?”

“I don’t know. But I can’t let her get away with this.”

Brigitte looked over her shoulder at him. “Then why not go yourself?”

“I told you—I have a company to run. That’s why I have people like Bragg.”

She faced him again, her mitted hands at her sides. “Why waste Bragg’s time if Lola isn’t worth enough for you to go yourself? Time is your most valuable resource, but your money and energy are equally precious. She’s bleeding you out, Beau. Jesus. Warner says he’s never seen you this distracted. Just let this thing go.”

Lola had been a strain on him one way or another since he’d found her again—yet knowing her had been rewarding in ways he hadn’t anticipated. After his proposition to her to spend the night with him, he’d returned home to Brigitte, who hadn’t thought it was a waste of anything then.

“You were always on board with my plan,” he said. “You even said a million was a small price to pay for what I wanted in return.”

“Because it was a game, and you needed that win. Her rejection had been a weak spot for you all those years, and you’re the strongest person I know. It was never about getting laid.” She shook her head. “This isn’t a game anymore, Beau. Part of your success has come from your ability to cut deadweight loose the way most people can’t. The moment hesitation or indecision creeps in, you’re letting emotion get in the way of your sense. She’s offered you an exit, and you need to take it.”