Jett closed the door, briefly registering the curious glances from his employees staring at both him and Kenny. They probably wondered what a man like Kenny was doing in one of the most successful companies in real estate, meeting with no other than the CEO. His employees didn’t know the true Jett. No one did. If they did, they’d run. But not Brooke. She had sensed his dark side and fallen in love with him nonetheless.
“You said you wanted to talk and it was urgent,” Kenny began as soon as Jett had closed the shutters, leaving them sheltered from prying eyes.
“I never said here.”
Kenny shrugged and slumped into Jett’s chair, propping his legs up on the polished oak desk, expertly ignoring the brown leather couches set up near the door, chosen for such an occasion. Jett’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t comment. “I assumed you needed me and that you knew what you were doing,” Kenny said. “You should’ve specified a place. Not my fault you’re being incautious, bro.”
Fuck it. He was right, of course, but the knowledge didn’t stop Jett from glowering. To hide his irritation, he poured two glasses of double malt whiskey from the carafe on the coffee table and pushed one toward Kenny.
“It’s barely morning,” Kenny remarked, his fingers clutching at the glass with remarkable eagerness.
“Who the fuck cares?”
“Point taken.”
The whiskey tasted like expensive honey. A bit too sweet, with smoky and earthy undertones. He hated it, but it was the beverage that went down best with his clients and as such he always had a bottle available in his office. In his five years working for Mayfield Realties he had never touched it—until today.
“I need you to find someone because my private investigator’s doing a shit job, and you’re the only person I trust,” Jett said, barely noticing his friend’s half full glass.
Kenny didn’t blink. “How urgent is it?”
“Major deal.”
“A good hookup and can’t find her number?” Kenny grinned. He had no idea how close he was to the truth.
“Something like that,” Jett remarked dryly as he retrieved a brown Manila envelope from his cabinet and tossed it to Kenny. “Here’s everything you need to know about her. And there’s something else you need to get me.”
Kenny’s brow shot up as he flicked through the envelope and Brooke’s details. His stare remained glued to Brooke’s sleeping face with her wavy hair spread across the pillow like a halo. The picture had been taken with Jett’s cellphone in his luxurious Manhattan apartment, on the last day they spent together. Jett had been sitting in the chair opposite from the four-poster bed, torn whether to spill his secret because she had opened up to him a few days previously, telling him about her painful past and why she didn’t want a relationship. He felt he owed her the truth, but in the end he decided not to spoil the moment. It had been a big mistake because the next thing he knew they had a fight, and she was gone.
Missing without a trail. And he never had the opportunity to explain things.
“Hey, you still with me?” Kenny said, observing Jett, assessing him. “Why did she leave?”
“I dunno. Ask me something else!” Jett grimaced and refilled their glasses. He swigged down the golden liquid in one gulp while Kenny stared at his, leaving it untouched this time. The whiskey burned down Jett’s throat and probably messed with his brain. The beauty of oblivion. If he couldn’t find her, then that was the state he was aiming for.
Kenny just shook his head and pointed at the now closed envelope, his look devoid of emotion. “She’s pretty.” He had always been good at not saying what he thought. It was the reason why he stayed out of trouble—unlike Jett.
“Yeah.”
“When did you last see her?”
“Twenty-four hours ago.”
Kenny’s pretend frown barely hid the beginning of a sarcastic grin. “That’s a really long time.”
Jett knew what he sounded like. Desperate. But it didn’t matter.
“I’m serious.” His voice was cold. Menacing even. He didn’t like it when people made fun of him. “I need to find her. You have a problem with that?”
“Jesus. What happened to you, man?”
“I fucking messed up. I fucked up. I wouldn’t have called you if it wasn’t important.”
Kenny leaned back. He didn’t seem in the least bothered by Jett’s outburst—they had remained friends through tougher shit than that.
“Do you have any idea where she could be? Friends? Family? An ex or a secret boyfriend?” Kenny asked.
If I did I wouldn’t be here wasting my time with you, would I?