Page 22 of Take The Risk

​“What’s up?” My team only ever came to get me if something was seriously wrong.

​Given the amount of shit Winterbourne Manor had coughed up since I’d started, they’d come to get me a lot.

​“Is something wrong?” Phoebe became alert.

​Harold looked unsure. His eyes shifted to Phoebe and then to me. Odd.

​“I can give you guys a minute if you need?” Phoebe offered, noticing the move. She was an observant little thing.

​“If you don’t mind?” Harold asked, which rocked me. If it was about the house, she was the homeowner, so why would he want to speak—Ah, hell. It was probably time.

​“Do you need to go?” I asked, wondering why the hell he was being so cryptic. His wife giving birth to their fourth child wasn’t exactly a secret.

​Harold gave me a confused look then rushed, “No. No. Cheryl’s not due for another two weeks.”

​Then the problem was…? “Okay, man. Just give me a second.”

​A minute later, I was rounding the front of the house to go see what was going on.

I left Phoebe in the backyard sitting on a large tree stump going over the options for her deck. I was annoyed I was being dragged away from her. I found I liked being around her. Her voice soothed something inside me. It didn’t hurt that she was gorgeous as hell, either.

​“What’s going on?” I met Harold in the hallway.

​“I found something in the basement and wanted to know how you wanted it handled?” His voice was low in an effort to keep the others from hearing. The house was a virtual radio of noise, so I didn’t really think that was necessary.

​“So? Is there a problem with the foundation?” I prompted impatiently. What the hell was up with him? I’d never known Harold to be anything but direct. Foundation issues weren’t unexpected.

​He blew out a breath. “No. The foundation is surprisingly rock solid.”

​Thank God for small fucking miracles. I’d dreaded Harold’s report, but I wasn’t going to be shocked if there were issues. The house seemed to breed issues like rabbits.

​“Out with it,” I demanded.

​“I should clarify. The foundation is solid; however, there was some tampering with some of the stones in the cold room.” Harold rolled his shoulders. “Ah, fuck. I feel like shit for saying this given she seems nice, but I found drugs behind one of the tampered bricks.”

​“Drugs?” I repeated, unsure if I heard him right.

​“Drugs?”

​My head snapped around, and I found Phoebe standing just a few feet away.

​“Shit,” Harold muttered.

​“What do you mean, drugs?” She marched straight over to us. “The only drugs I have in the house are Advil and children’s Advil. Maybe some Gravol.”

​I believed her. “What kind of drugs?” I turned to Harold, whose lips were flattened in displeasure.

​“Looks to be cocaine, but I can’t be sure.”

​“WHAT?” Phoebe’s jaw dropped at the same time mine did. “Where is it?” she demanded.

​Harold looked to me for direction.

​In a surprising show of steel, Phoebe crossed her arms over her chest, which pushed up her breasts. Despite the fact I now had a huge fucking problem, my eyes couldn’t help but appreciate the way she filled out the green sweater she wore. I really liked the V-cut that showed off some of her creamy skin. It was a modest sweater, and yet I found it more appealing than that bar bunny from last week with the short skirt and corset top, her breasts practically spilling out. I’d sent her on her way, my body not interested. But here was this small woman with her small expanse of skin on display, and I was practically drooling.

​I tried not to stare, but damn…what was it about her?

​“Harold, is it?” She stepped closer, moving until she was almost in front of me. “I appreciate that you work for Ty,” she said when he hadn’t answered her. “However, if there are drugs in my house, I’d like to know what and where they are.”