Page 37 of Protecting Peyton

“Most certainly,” the yes-man repeated.

I’d just had lunch with the complete opposite of this husband. Zane March was so sure of himself that he tattooed his beliefs on his skin. He was a real man, firm in his commitments, a man with real convictions, whounderstood them and could articulate them. A man who knew what he stood for and why.

“What do you think?” she asked Grace, waking me from my lunch-conversation reenactment.

Grace cleared her throat. “I think we should schedule a design consultation using our VR system so you can visualize it and see what impact each change makes in the appearance and functionality.”

“Excellent idea.” The lady stood. “Now, where is this virtual reality design studio I read about in the paper?”

Grace stayed seated. “We can’t do it right now. It will have to be scheduled.”

I couldn’t take another minute of this woman today, and I guessed Grace also needed some decompression time before facing her again.

“I don’t see why not. We’re paying for the service.”

“Mrs. Barnard,” Grace said diplomatically. “Our services are in high demand, and we must first service clients who came to us earlier.”

“Who could possibly be ahead of us? Are you telling me you don’t value our business?”

This was a behavior we’d seen so often that we’d come up with a solution.

Grace turned to me. “Peyton, who is higher in the queue right now?”

“Lloyd Benson,” I responded. “He and his wife are one of the couples ahead of you, Mrs. Barnard.”

Her eyes went wide. “The billionaires?”

Grace took it from there. “If you’d like to talk to Lloyd about giving up his spot, Peyton can give you his number. And there are also the Covingtons, Bill and his lovely wife, Lauren. They’re in a bit of a hurry, but you could ask them to delay their project.”

Nobody had yet called our bluff. Mentioning the famous billionaire families always did the trick.

Grace checked her watch, a reminder that my wrist was currently missing a timepiece. “If you’ll excuse me. I’m due in another meeting.”

I felt a bit ill after the lack of Cassie’s watch on my wrist brought a vision of her smiling face to mind. She’d had so much to live for.

“Peyton, will you see the Barnards out?” Grace’s question brought me back to the moment. “And schedule a slot for them, say two weeks out, so we can properly finish the projects ahead of them and prepare for their VR consultation?”

I stood and nodded. “My pleasure.”

After ushering them out of Grace’s office, I scheduled a date for themand assured them that we would call if we could move up the date. Which we always did in a case like this.

On the way back to my desk, I passed March and noticed the ink showing from his rolled-up sleeves. It brought me right back to our lunch conversation.

Zane March was no yes-man. He was the opposite, a man with honorable convictions.

At the endof the day, I locked up my desk, grabbed my purse, and pulled my tired ass to March’s desk. “I’m ready to go.”

“Have a seat,” he said. “Terry is on his way.”

Once Terry picked Grace up, March was off duty, but not a minute before, I’d learned.

I happily plopped down in the chair next to his desk. He’d been here long enough now that referring to it as his desk made sense.

“When do you think she’ll be free to go back to her life without you guys on duty every day?” It had to suck to not know when the danger would be over.

March bit his lip. “Lucas is giving Victor a little time to acclimate in his new role. Then he’ll go in and clear the air with the punk.”

Tony Russo, Victor’s father, had exiled his son after Lucas had complained about Victor’s behavior toward Grace.