"And I won't be announcing Kelsey, either. I really do want it kept secret, Evelyn."
"I know, and I will. Trust me, I've been working in this town for decades." She tapped her head. "There's a lifetime of secrets locked up here. I can hold on to one more."
"Hey," Griffin said the next morning when Wyatt called from his studio. "If you're looking for my sister, she's not here."
"I am, actually. I know she's teaching a dance class today, but I don't know where. I was hoping you could help me out with an address." He was pacing the studio, ignoring the curious looks from JP, who was seated at a worktable across the room. Beside him sat Mike, the contractor who was overseeing the creation of the stand-alone hall and stage that Kelsey would ultimately dance on.
Assuming Wyatt could find her and convince her.
"Griffin?" he pressed, when the man at the other end of the line stayed silent.
"Listen, it's none of my business, but--actually, you know what? It is my business."
"What are you talking about?"
"I don't know all the details of what happened between you two in Santa Barbara, but what I do know is that it took forever for her to get over it. Hell, I'm not even sure she did get over it, because it's all twisted up in her head with what happened to--shit. Fuck. Never mind. All I'm saying is that if you hurt my sister, I'll hunt you down and kill you. Okay?"
Wyatt frowned, trying to parse out the undercurrent of what Griff was saying. But he definitely caught the major theme. "I'm not going to hurt her. I'm trying to hire her. Well, I'm trying to hire her again."
"Hire--wait. You're the job? The one she got and then lost?"
"I've got a show coming up. I want her to model for me."
"It's not a dance thing?"
"No, not really."
"Huh."
Wyatt could picture the other man's confusion, but he wasn't about to explain that he wanted his sister to pose for erotic photos.
"I thought you fired her," Griffin finally said.
"Did she tell you that?"
"Actually, no." Griff paused, and Wyatt could hear him take a sip of something, probably water. "She said she lost it. You wanna tell me what happened?"
"No," Wyatt said. "I just want to know where she is."
The silence on the line lingered so long that Wyatt started to fear Griffin had hung up.
When he finally did speak, his melodic voice was low, even menacing. "All right," he said. "But remember what I said. You hurt her, and you and I are going to have a problem."
"Fair enough," Wyatt said, and scribbled down the name and address of a dance studio in Valencia. Then he stood up, grabbed his keys off his desk, and headed for the door.
"Hey, hang on," JP called, trotting across the room toward Wyatt. "You're out of here?"
"I have an errand." He nodded toward Mike. "How's it going?"
"He knows his stuff. He has an idea for the hallway that should keep it secure but also easy to transport. Because when this show's a hit, you'll be traveling all over the country, right?" His grin was wide, and Wyatt laughed.
"That's the plan. And that sounds good. I do need you to make one change to the stage, though. Tell Mike we need a pole."
"A pole," JP repeated. "Can do. But you do remember that we have a stage but no girl, right?"
"I know," Wyatt said, his voice hard and determined as he met his assistant's eyes. "But there will be."
According to Griffin, Kelsey taught a ten o'clock class with toddlers, then had a thirty-minute break before she taught Zumba. Since he'd arrived at ten-forty, he fully intended to use her break to convince her.