Page 79 of Protecting You
Probably didn’t matter, but more information was always better.
An hour later, Callan finished off the meal Alyssa had picked up from an upscale pub nearby.
He’d expected her to come in with fast-food bags, but she rarely did what was expected, not that he was complaining. He’d been wary when he’d first seen the topping, not ketchup or mustard but some kind of bacon chutney.
Bacon, anytime. But chutney?
It was beyond delicious.
She’d already finished her salad and sat on the chair opposite him at the square table, feet propped on the bed, glancing at the laptop resting on her thighs. Her brows lowered, and her lips dipped in a frown.
“Something wrong?”
“Brooklynn called.”
Sister number two. “You gave her your number?”
“No. When I didn’t answer, she texted. I get my texts on my laptop.” She looked up. “Don’t worry. I’ve already disconnected my cell phone. Even if they can get past my passcode, they can’t track me.”
“I wasn’t worried. You know what you’re doing.” He pointed with his chin to her computer. “Something wrong?”
Alyssa read the screen. “She wants to talk to me about Grams and Pop’s party and is wondering why I haven’t answered her calls. I told her I lost my phone. I figure I shouldn’t give her the number to the one Malcolm provided. I’ll just text and tell her I’m not going to make the party.”
“Don’t do that until we hear back from Malcolm.”
He had a bad feeling about what his boss might say, though he wasn’t ready to let Alyssa in on his worries yet.
“I need to let them know. They’re going to be mad, but it’ll be so much worse if I cancel at the last minute?—”
“Then you’ll explain at the time. For now, don’t say anything, please.” He nodded to the hotel phone. “Call your sister from that, if you want.”
“I’ll just text her.”
“She wants to talk to you. I can leave, if you want privacy.”
“That’s not it.”
His face must’ve displayed his surprise because she said, “If I wanted to talk to her, I would.”
Interesting. Callan didn’t reject his own sister’s calls unless he legitimately couldn’t talk, even though lately, Hannah mostly gave him a hard time about his life choices. Not that he didn’t deserve it. Bossy as his little sister could be, he’d never avoided her calls. “Why aren't you close with them?”
She snatched his trash and shoved it in the can, ignoring his question.
“Are you close to your parents?” he asked.
“Mom and I, yeah.”
He lifted his eyebrows, figuring his expression asked the question.
“I’ve always been a disappointment to my father. I don’t even want to think about what he’d say if he knew the trouble I’m in now.”
“It’s not your fault. You did your homework on Sanders. You couldn’t have?—”
“It’s fine.” She lifted a hand to silence him. “His opinion of me is well deserved.”
“What are you talking about? You’re smart. You’re successful. You’re”—he almost said beautiful but managed to shift in time to—“capable. If your father doesn’t see that, then he’s blind.”
Alyssa settled in the chair across from him again and grabbed her laptop. Focused on it.
