Recluse (Wolfes of Manhattan 2)

“Everyone, meet Horace Stiers and Parker Manfred, better known as Hoss and Manny.”

Roy chuckled under his breath and was met with a glare from Reid.

I held back my own chuckle. Hoss and Manny? Really?

Rock introduced the rest of us to the newcomers and bade them to have a seat.

“I hear you have information for us,” Reid said.

“Hoss is here as my attorney,” Manny said. “I’ve decided to tell you what you need to know, but we need to be sure of full confidentiality.”

“We can’t offer full confidentiality,” Rock said. “You know that. We need to talk to this woman.”

“She can’t know you got her name from Manny is all,” Hoss said. “And we can give you the name, but she won’t talk to you over the phone. Only in person.”

“We’ll fly her out,” Rock said. “No problem.”

“Well…there is a problem,” Hoss said.

This man looked like he was going to spit a wad of chew any second.

“What’s that?” Rock asked.

“She won’t travel. You’ll have to go to Montana.”

“And you couldn’t have told us this over the phone?” Reid asked.

“And miss out on a trip to New York, all expenses paid?” Hoss chuckled.

Yeah, this room was going to be a spittoon at any moment.

“Fucker,” Rock said, laughing.

“You think this is funny?” Reid asked, his face turning red.

Roy spoke up then. “I think it’s a little funny.”

I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Even Lacey had covered her mouth, her shoulders quivering.

“You do this shit just to torture me, don’t you, Rock?” Reid said, still red in the face.

“I had nothing to do with this. This is all Hoss and Manny.”

“So you just gave out a free trip to Manhattan to a couple of clowns.”

“Clowns who have information we need. Hell, I flew them coach, and we damned well could afford first class.”

“We were expecting the private jet,” Hoss said.

“For you bozos?” Rock said. “I don’t think so.”

Hoss was as tall and skinny as Manny was round. They laughed uproariously, seeming to focus on Reid, who looked really pissed off.

Rock turned to his friends then. “Let’s get serious now. I’ve already paid you two a shit ton of green. What’s up with this?”

Hoss smirked. “Just wanted to see New York.”

“Well, see as much as you can today, because you’re going back tomorrow. Lace and I will come with you.”

“I can’t, Rock. I have appointments all day tomorrow. Appointments you set up for me.”

“Shit. You’re right.” He looked to Reid.

“Don’t even think it,” Reid said. “I have better things to do.”

Then to Roy, “I guess it’s you and me, bro. Want to see Montana again?”

A cannonball hit my stomach. Lacey had told me Roy had slept with a woman in Montana a few weeks ago. Not that he was going to go and rekindle a one-nighter, but—

“I have stuff planned,” Roy said.

“For God’s sake. Jarrod can’t come along. I’ve got tons of paperwork for him.”

Jarrod smiled. “Hey, I’m happy to go.”

“Nice try,” Rock said. “Lacey, can you spare Charlie?”

“I suppose so, if it’s that important you have someone along.”

Roy regarded me tersely. He wanted me to turn Rock down. He seriously wanted me to turn down a request from the CEO on my second day on the job.

Not going to happen.

“Okay, Charlie,” Rock said. “You and I leave tomorrow. Company jet.”

Roy looked down at his computer. He wasn’t happy. Surely I’d hear all about this tonight when I met him at his place for dinner.I managed to escape the office by seven p.m., and I quickly changed into a sundress and sandals in the ladies’ room before I headed to Roy’s place. I grabbed a cab quickly and made it by seven-thirty.

Roy buzzed me up without so much as a word.

Why was he pissed at me? I couldn’t help what Rock wanted. And I did seem to be the only person available on such short notice.

I knocked softly, remembering how I’d come over on a whim just last night, feeling terrible because I hadn’t accepted Roy’s dinner invitation.

Now, less than twenty-four hours later, I’d had a portrait painted by Roy Wolfe. Oh, and I’d fucked him.

Surreal.

He held the door open for me, still saying nothing. Was that how this evening was going to go? The silent treatment?

I inhaled. Italian. “Smells great. Did you cook?”

“Yeah.”

“Lasagna?”

“Baked ziti.”

“Sounds great.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“What’s this about, Roy?”

“What’s what about?”

“You know damned well what I’m talking about. We had a great time last night—at least I did—and now you won’t speak to me.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. You want some wine? Chianti?”

“I’d love a glass of wine.” Anything to take the edge off. “You have some too.”

“I’m not much for wine. Bourbon for me.”

“With baked ziti?”

“With just about everything. All three of us are bourbon drinkers. Reid and I always have been, and Rock is as well. We found that out when he came back here for the reading of our dad’s will.” Roy chuckled. “He drank a lot of bourbon that night.”