The emblem on the SUV was small enough that most people would never have noticed it.
I noticed because I had approved it myself.
Callahan Group executive security.
For half a second, the rain, the laundromat, the traffic and even Sophie’s fever disappeared behind one impossible thought.
Those men worked for me.
Eleanor was terrified of them.
I stepped between her and the curb.
“Nobody moves.”
The tallest man stopped immediately.
The other two remained near the SUV.
He looked at me, then at Eleanor, and whatever professionalism had been on his face disappeared.
Recognition replaced it.
“Mr.
Callahan.”
Eleanor made a small sound behind me.
“Don’t let him near us.”
I turned.
She had Sophie crushed against her shoulder, one hand protecting the back of the child’s head.
“You know him?”
Her face was bloodless.
“He came to my apartment before.”
The tall man’s jaw tightened.
That was enough.
I looked at him.
“When?”
He didn’t answer quickly enough.
“When?”
“Almost three years ago.”
My stomach dropped.
Eleanor closed her eyes.
Sophie stirred weakly against her.
The man’s gaze fell to the child, then returned to me.
He understood something in that instant.
“Sir, I think you need to speak to your office.”
“You’re speaking to me.”
Rain drummed against the SUV roof.
“Why were you at my ex-wife’s apartment?”
He looked genuinely uncomfortable now.
“We were given a separation directive.”
I stared at him.
“By whom?”
He hesitated.
Eleanor answered for him.
“Your assistant.”
The words landed harder than the rain.
I turned slowly toward her.
“What separation directive?”
She laughed without humor.
“The one that apparently came with men in black coats showing up at my door.”
The security contractor raised both hands slightly.
“Mrs.
Callahan, we never threatened you.”
“You stood outside my apartment and told me not to contact my former husband through his home or office again.”
“We were told there had been unwanted contact.”
“I was pregnant.”
The man went silent.
