Golden Lies - Barbara Freethy [75]
"Mrs. Delaney, the owner of the dragon?"
"Yes, and I've been doing some research. It's possible that her dragon is part of a set. It's Riley's theory that—"
"Riley McAllister? The grandson?"
"Yes, he's a security expert, and he thinks that someone might have broken into his grandmother's house to see if she had another dragon."
Victoria let out a long, weary sigh. "Fine. I'll call our security company and have them send someone over here right away. Will that ease your mind?"
"Yes, thank you." Paige paused, watching her mother's gaze drift back to her dad's hospital room. "Are you going to stay?"
"For a while."
"What Dad said when he first woke up—"
"I didn't hear a thing."
"I didn't, either," she lied.
"Go home, Paige, and for God's sake, run a comb through your hair. It looks like a bird made a nest in it. And put on some lipstick. There could be press snapping your picture on your way out of the hospital. You have to think about these things, you know. Appearance and image are very important, especially when we're under such close scrutiny. Speaking of which, I think you should distance yourself from Mr. McAllister. We need to keep our business private."
"Our family business went public when Dad lost Riley's grandmother's dragon. Riley is determined to find out what happened, and I can't blame him. I feel bad for his grandmother. One minute she's sitting on a possible fortune, and the next minute it's gone."
"There's no room for sentiment in business, Paige," her mother replied. "Mr. McAllister is a customer, not a friend. Try to remember that."
She would try, but her mother had no idea how difficult that would be, because Paige wasn't thinking of Riley as a potential friend but as a lover.
* * *
"So you decided to actually come to work," Carey said, dumping a pile of pink message slips on Riley's desk late Friday afternoon. "Where have you been all day?"
"I've been trying to track down my grandmother's dragon," he replied. "I knew I could count on you to keep things going."
"You can—for most things," she said somewhat ominously.
Riley sat back in his chair. "What does that mean?"
"The three musketeers want another assignment."
"Bud, Charlie, and Gilbert?" he asked, referring to the three older men who'd been with the company since his grandfather had started it forty years ago. They were now in their early to mid-seventies and insisted on continuing to work. His grandfather had made him promise when he first came back to help out that he would not terminate their contracts for any reason except gross negligence, certainly not for age or any other discriminatory reason. "Actually, I have a job for them," he said. "I want them to take turns monitoring my grandmother's house. I'm not expecting any trouble, but another pair of eyes wouldn't hurt."
"I'll let them know. They'll be thrilled."
Riley smiled. "Maybe we should look into getting them into some computer classes. If they're going to work for me, I need to find something worthwhile for them to do."
"And you're too soft to fire them."
"Hey, they're cheap, loyal labor. I'm looking out for my own interests."
"Yeah, yeah, tell it to someone who doesn't know you."
"What else is going on?"
"Tom picked up a new Internet client. Richie called in and said the film company shooting in Marin needs security guards for three more days. That's about it. Oh, and Josh called and said he got an A on his chemistry test, so can he please come back to work?"
Riley smiled at that. "Good for him."
"Good for you for making him care about his grades. You're pretty smart when it comes to teenagers and old guys. Women—now that's another story. And speaking of women, or woman in particular, are you going to be tagging along with Paige Hathaway all night, too? Just so I know where to reach you in case of emergency."
He ignored her amused smile. "You can always reach me on my cell phone. You don't have to know where I am."
"That's no fun. Seriously, Riley. Is this thing with Paige Hathaway business or funny business?"
"It's none of your