Their Virgin Secretary (Masters of Ménage #6)(34)

The last of the Hughes brothers simply nodded behind a pair of aviators. There were already whispers going through the café about the Callum Thurston-Hughes. The man had the kind of face that lent itself to posters and print ads, and he'd made a very nice fortune smiling for a camera. Currently, however, he was on a farewell tour with his professional soccer team. If the man could hear his thoughts, Eric had no doubt Callum would roll those famous eyes of his and remind him the correct term was football.

Rory slid into his chair with a smile. "Let's get this over with. I met a girl last night at a bar, after the reception. I've been in America for four days and I haven't gotten any action yet."

His brothers both groaned as they sat. After ordering coffee, the group immediately dove into conversation about their American businesses and all the objectives they hoped to accomplish with this trip. The dog wedding had been a nice-if painful-reason for Oliver to see his late-wife's family, with whom he'd maintained ties … and maybe get some closure.

Eric lost himself in the complex conversation. Their group had several legal tangles to unravel before they could buy more property in the States and proceed with their planned endeavors. Eric spoke with the confidence of someone who knew this area of the law well, while Kellan offered his expertise when needed. Tate cited specific facts and precedence, jotting notes along the way, as he often did. Everything should have felt much the same, but nothing did without Belle's smiling face or efficient manner.

Thirty minutes turned into an hour, and before Eric knew it, they were paying the check. The Hughes brothers stood and offered their hands.

"Until our follow-up meeting next month." Callum nodded.

And the truth punched Eric in the gut. Belle hadn't shown up. Discreetly, he double-checked his phone. Nothing. She'd never once skipped a meeting the whole time she'd been with them. She'd never even taken a sick day in fourteen months. Now she hadn't even called to let them know she wasn't going to be there. It was so unlike her.

Rory smiled as he shook Eric's hand. "Tell Belle we're sorry we missed her."

Eric might just let Kellan deal with this one. Yes, they'd been assholes, but she was still a part of their business and he'd never dreamed that she would shirk responsibility because she was sulking. "I'm sure she's sorry to have missed you as well. She's not feeling well."

Though the clients wouldn't care, he felt the urge to cover for her. Or maybe that's what he wanted to believe because it was easier than contemplating a scarier possibility.

Oliver's brows rose over his sharp blue eyes. "She looked perfectly fit this morning."

So someone had seen her today. She was still here. Eric breathed a silent sigh of relief.

Tate leaned in. "Where is she?"

Eric exchanged a glance with Kellan. They had to teach Tate how to adopt a halfway decent poker face.

"I don't know. It actually wasn't morning when we saw her, more like the middle of the night." Callum chuckled. "We went out drinking a bit after the reception. It was three a.m. when we returned. I was surprised she would leave at such an odd hour."

"Leave?" Tate demanded.

"We presumed she was," Rory said, pushing his chair in. "She rolled her baggage out. That's an ugly dog, by the way."

Eric gaped, realizing that he wasn't doing a good job of hanging onto his own poker face. "She left with her suitcase at three a.m.?"



       
         
       
        

"She had a dog?" Tate looked really perplexed.

Kell elbowed Tate. "Did she say anything?"

"Not a lot, simply that she planned to start a new business." Oliver shrugged. "I'm sad to see her go. She was always efficient and quite kind. But it looks as if she's making out all right. That Mercedes was a beauty of a car. Brilliant."

Rory sighed. "There's something terribly wrong when you notice the car before a woman as beautiful as Belle. I sincerely hope, for everyone's sake, that your libido makes a reappearance soon."

Callum took a swipe at the back of his little brother's head. "Stop being a barmy fuck."

Oliver's expression turned even colder. Eric could barely remember the Oliver he'd first met-the life of every party, the first with a joke or a smile.

Now, the man simply nodded their way. "Thank you for breakfast. I'll be on my way. Gentlemen."

As he walked away, Callum and Rory sighed.

"Sorry about that. He's still not himself. I'd hoped coming on this American tour with me would revive his spirits. It's been over a year since Yasmin's death." Callum watched his older brother go, concern etched all over his famous face.