Tristan’s eyes widen.
“Then he said, ‘Women included.’”
“What the fuck?” Tristan snaps. “Are you fucking serious?” He stands in a rush.
“But I don’t know if I read it the wrong way or . . . ,” I stammer. “I don’t want to be making more of this than it is, but I felt that it was really quite off.”
Tristan’s eyes blaze with anger. “What did you say?”
“I told him he was insulting my intelligence and to go away.” I curl my lip in disgust. “He makes my skin crawl.”
“Fucking hell.” Tristan sighs as he turns and puts his hands into his suit pockets and stares out the window, deep in thought.
“I didn’t say anything to Jameson because I feel like that’s exactly what Gabriel wanted me to do.”
Tristan’s jaw ticks in anger. “He wants to start a war.”
“That’s what it felt like . . . there could be no other explanation,” I whisper.
“He’s trying to rattle him by attacking him on a personal basis.”
“Yes.” I sigh as my heart bleeds for my Jay. “I worried about whether I should say anything to you all night.”
Tristan’s eyes come to me. “Don’t tell Jameson.”
“Okay.”
“Let’s keep this between us.”
I exhale heavily.
“I’m concerned about Jameson,” he says. “He’s about to fucking crack.”
“I know; I’m going to try to get him out of the city for the weekends and get him offline. I’m doing all I can to keep him calm.”
“Good idea.” He nods, still deep in thought. “If you had told him about Gabriel, he would be over there strangling the fucker right now.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I know.”
“You did the right thing.” He smiles. “Thank you for telling me.”
My eyes hold his. “I hate not telling Jameson, but I feel like I need to protect him from this. Gabriel is just trying to rattle him.”
“My thoughts exactly,” he agrees. “Thanks, I’ll get on this now. Can you do me a favor and try to find out as much about Hayden’s personal life as you can? Where he hangs out, partner, that kind of thing.”
“Okay, I’m on it.” I stand and leave his office and walk over to Jameson’s office, and I knock on the door.
“Come in,” his deep, velvety voice calls.
I open the door to see my beautiful man sitting behind his desk. He smiles warmly when he sees me and pats his lap.
I lock the door and sit on his lap and take his lips with mine. “Hello, boss.”
He runs his hand up my thigh. His mouth goes to my neck, and I smile, and then I see it.
A half-empty glass of scotch sitting on his desk. I glance at my watch.
“It’s eleven o’clock, Jameson.”