Page 114 of To the Chase

Paul would handle my absence just fine, and I’d explain later, once I understood exactly what was going on.

Sam stepped out of my office as I passed by. “Hey, Tore. Where’s the fire?”

I tried to sidestep him, but he blocked me. “I have to go.”

“The meeting is starting in ten. Where do you need to go that can’t wait?”

He was already pissed at me for ignoring his texts over the weekend in favor of spending time with Bea. What was one more drop in the overloaded bucket?

Without a word of explanation, I pushed right by him.

Something was very wrong, and I refused to waste another minute before finding out what it was and making it right.

A large man in a Denver Mountain Lions rugby shirt opened Bea’s front door, grinning. “Hey. What’s up?”

He leaned casually against the frame, looking perfectly at home. When I didn’t answer, his brows lifted in amusement.

“Cat got your tongue, bro? You sure you’re in the right place?”

“I’m in the right place. Areyou?” I countered, peering past him into the house.

He looked over his shoulder. “Hey, Buzz. There’s a guy on your porch wearing a suit and glasses. Looks like he sat on a tack and it’s lodgedwayup there. Sound familiar?”

Turning back to me, he added, “No offense.”

I spun the ring on my finger, struggling for composure. “Who are you?”

He held out his hand. “Ben Wells. You must be Tore.”

Of course. If I’d been thinking clearly, I would have known who he was right away. There weren’t many six-and-a-half-foot-tall, curly-haired, rugby-playing men around, but there were two on this block—the Wells twins.

I shook his hand. “Is Bea okay?”

“Nah.” He folded his arms again. “Gotta say, firing her was pretty damn low.”

“Firing her? What are you talking about?”

From inside, Bea called out, “Did you say something?”

He turned sideways and yelled, “Yeah, Buzz. Your man’s here, looking confused as hell and like he’s about to pummel me for standing in his way. Should I let him in?”

A moment later, Bea appeared beside Ben. Her face was pale, eyes rimmed red, and her catering shirt had been misbuttoned.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “You’re missing your meeting.”

“Why didn’t you show up today? Are you sick?” I bit out more harshly than intended. I felt like I was losing my mind. Like everyone knew what was going on and no one would clue me in.

Ben chuckled. “Oh dear. I fear there’s been some kinda miscommunication.” He gestured between us. “I’m gonna see my ass to the other room while you two lovebirds work this out.”

I focused on Bea. “What’s going on?”

Her mouth was a tight line. “I got Paul’s email this morning. Ben’s helping me get ready for my next gig. I don’t really have time—”

I grabbed her arm. “What email? I just spoke with Paul. He had no idea why you weren’t at Nox.”

Her eyes went wide. “He emailed me, canceling all our upcoming bookings, including today.”

“What the hell?” I muttered. “Are you sure it came from him? He appeared just as confused by your absence as I was.”