“I’M SO SORRY.” HORROR was settling across Ash’s face. “If I’d thought for a second he’d do something like this... to so many people...”

Sympathy pinged inside Victoria. “Then what? You’d have done things differently? Not given us the building?”

“I don’t know. Something, I guess. I’m still sorry.”

“He could have been a grown man about the entire thing and walked away. Like a normal person would. It’s not your fault.” It was a sweet sentiment though.

Ash twisted her mouth. “I know. I’m working on the whole not taking blame for other people thing. I still feel bad, though.”

“Me too. But in a way I hope it’s true. That would mean there may not be anything that triggered the investigation beyond someone’s word, and we don’t have anything to worry about.” Except the possibility that someone had forgotten to dot an I or cross a T somewhere.

They finished lunch, chatting about the weather, how hard it was to get back into work after the holidays, and other random small talk. Victoria’s mind whirred over the information about Ralph Wolfram. If it was true, how would they figure it out, and even then, what recourse did they have besides proving everything was on the up-and-up?

She said goodbye to Ash outside the deli. As the other woman walked toward her car, Victoria called Tristan.

“You done monopolizing my person’s time?” His greeting was light, despite the words.

She bit the inside of her cheek, but it didn’t stop a pleasant shiver from racing down her spine at his voice. How did he have that effect on her? “For now. Thank you for sending her.”

“She volunteered, or I would have done it myself.”

Victoria leaned against a nearby building, keeping her out of the way of traffic. She should get back to work too, but she wanted to enjoy the conversation. “I’m a little torn it worked out that way, but good things came out of it.”

“Did you gossip about how snowboarders are sexier than skateboarders?” he teased.

The playfulness sent a thrill through her. It tickled her heart and glided through her veins. “I’ll have to ask her about that next time. I have a feeling her answer is different than mine.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Now I have to know.”

Tristan made a tsk sound. “Not my secret to share. Ask Ash.”

“Spoil sport. Tell me another secret instead then. One that is yours.” The playful words pinged inside, reminding her she might not like the answer.

There was a pause, that made her glee wilt.

“How do you feel about the name Alexandria?” he asked.

“I... It’s pretty? It’s got a lot of potential for cute nicknames. It sounds almost regal. Why?”

“I’ve always said if I had a girl, that’s what I’d name her.”

Such a simple statement, but it carried so much weight. He had names picked out. When he said he’d always wanted to be a family man, she lost the importance of it in the midst of her hurt. Victoria must be grinning like an idiot by now. “I’ll add it to the list.”

“What kind of competition does it have?” Tristan asked.

She’d looked at baby names, but none stood out. Since it was too early to even determine the sex of the child, she figured she had time. “As of right now, none.”

“I like those odds.” His tone was light and playful.

She should get back to work, as much as she’d rather follow this conversation to wherever it led. “I have a real reason for calling. Not that this isn’t fun.” More than she expected, and she was reluctant to cut him off.

“My ear is yours.”

“This whole investigation... Is it possible that Ralph Wolfram is behind filing the initial complaint?”

Silence stretched over the line. That couldn’t be good. Stunning the words out of Tristan was definitely a bad sign.

*

TRISTAN SHOOK AWAY the shock at Victoria’s question. On the one hand, it was ludicrous. On the other... “I wouldn’t put it past the man.”

“Well fuck.” Her words echoed his thoughts. “So what do we do? Does it matter that we suspect him?”

“I don’t know if it does. It might give us a better direction to focus on putting out the fire, though.”

“If he initiated the investigation, we can look first at things he’d know,” Victoria said.

He liked how on the same wavelength they were. It summoned memories of the country club dinner, and how they fed each other’s responses the entire evening. Which led to the after-party. Feeling her up on the balcony— He stashed the rambling thoughts for later access. “Dinner tonight? We’ll strategize.”

“Oh.”

He didn’t expect that. “Care to elaborate?”

“We don’t know what information they’re looking for, but we know that even the legit parts of the deal are unusual. Should we be doing things like dinner?”

“It’s not as though the paparazzi are stalking us, waiting for that one bad shot to sell to the papers.” Tristan tried to see where her concern came from, and fell short. It was dinner with a colleague. She had dinner with donors on a regular basis.

“Have you ever run into someone you know, one of your dad’s friends, a colleague of yours, someone like that, at dinner?”

He leaned back in his desk chair and crossed one ankle over the other knee. “All the time.”

“Tell me you’re not that naïve.”

The statement caught him off-guard, and dug in with a sharp jab. “There’s not some secret society of gossiping birds looking for any opportunity to spread dirt about the wealthy in the valley.”

He listened for a witty retort. And then waited a little longer. “What?” he asked when she didn’t say anything.

“You do remember the country club dinner. What they were saying about Ash? And I’ll add to that, who do you think helped fuel those rumors?”

Tristan struggled to believe a grown person would sink to something like that, but he’d heard it himself. “Point taken. Dinner at my house? I cook decent spaghetti.”

“I’m in.” Her tone relaxed in the short reply.

Inspiration struck. “Does that mean I get you for dinner and keep you for breakfast?”

“Ooh, like a sleepover?” Her tone shifted toward something younger. Less stressed.

He liked it. “Not quite what I had in mind, but I’m flexible. Pillow fights and practicing making out?”

“Braiding hair and gossiping,” she said. “If movies are to be believed, that’s what a sleepover is.”

“Have you ever been to one like that?” Tristan was visiting home once when Trina had friends over. It was more chaos, pizza, and squealing, plus romance movies, than anything else.

“I’ve never been to one.”

This conversation was just full of surprises. “You’re serious.” Of course she is. Why would she make that up?

“Sorry we didn’t all have a best friend who doubled as a brother and boyfriend.” An edge sneaked into her teasing.

“Didn’t meet Mischa until high school, and Spencer never did more than crash on my couch. Not the same as what you’re talking about.”

“Then it’s settled. Sleepover at your house.”

“I’ll even braid your hair,” he offered.

“That sounds like a bad idea.”

He’d give her an offended look if she was in the room. “It’s a brilliant idea. I have a younger sister. I know these things.” Something occurred to him, accompanied by a disappointment he didn’t expect. “We should probably invite Mischa and Ash.”

“Like a double date, or like an orgy? Because I’m not up for the second.”

Envy slid over his skin like slime at the reminder of Mischa and Victoria together. “Like for dinner. If we’re trying to figure out what Ralph knows, they have more information than we do. We can send them home after.”

“All right, I’m in. For all of it.”

Tristan disconnected, and stared at his cellphone, collecting his thoughts. They had a plan of attack. It wasn’t a fully-formed one, and it had a lot of unknowns, but it was better than before. He rolled his neck, liking the lift of tension that loosened his muscles.

That wasn’t at the forefront of his thoughts, though. Victoria was. He was definitely trying to make a habit of spending more time with her. The phone call had been easy. Letting it happen, not over-thinking every response.

And the teasing thoughts of what she’d look like in PJ’s—simple, innocently seductive—were pretty good too.

He dialed Mischa next.

“Алло.”

“You got a minute?” Tristan asked.

“I’ve got a bunch of them. What’s up?”

Tristan laid out Victoria’s theory about Ralph initiating the investigation.

Mischa let out a long whistle at the end of the explanation. “Wouldn’t put it past him.”

Funny how that was the general consensus. “So, dinner at my place, all four of us. We’ll figure out what he knows, and focus our energy on looking there to see if anything is out of place.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tonight.”

“Yeah, no. Can’t do that.” Mischa dragged out the words. “Kelly has this talent show thing at school, and Ash promised we’d be there.”

Tristan stalled on the reply. Instinct wanted to say but you’re not Ash. At the same time, he didn’t fault Mischa for doing the family thing. And he definitely wasn’t going to acknowledge the surge of envy. “I get it. We’ll catch you up later.”

“Thanks.”

Tristan hung up. A new layer of unease filled him. It almost seemed wrong for Mischa to be playing the responsible parent—brother-in-law—card. Hearing Mischa casually toss out something like talent night was a painful reminder Tristan had always expected he’d be married by now. Have kids. Do things the way his parents did.

It twisted his thoughts into a fucked-up knot, that if he didn’t figure things out with Victoria, he may miss that chance. And once again, Mischa would have that thing Tristan wanted, that was just out of his grasp.