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HE COULDN’T JUST get on with life Even if he’d been enough like his old man to turn his back on fa on He’d worked at Connelly until recently, had been the heir to the entire corporation and for the past several years had been a top-floor executive The FBI had been looking at him He had to protect himself Clear his name
Liao out Didn’t look for a game of chance, a woman or a drink He didn’t run to his confessors He spent the night investigating, researching, taking care of his own business to the best of his ability
With the personal list he’d kept of every account he’d worked with during his years at Connelly, and his privately kept contact list—coh to exchange contact information—he made more lists People he could contact Those he trusted more than others People he knew trusted his father People with more money than they knehat to do with Those atched their investments more closely Anyone he kneas associated with the Grayson develop contractors to investors
And in the , dressed in his best dark suit and a red silk tie and holding a briefcase carrying only a blank note pad and pen, he showed up at Connelly Investments Fully prepared to be turned away at the door, he was surprised to find hiet to the top floor without delay—helped by the fact that the security guard accompanied him
All the way to George’s office
And back down again, too, twenty minutes later, with an earful from the man he’d once trusted with his life He’d been told he wasn’t welcome Warned not to return
He hadn’t been given a chance to ask questions Or express opinions
He’d never even opened his briefcase
WITH PURPOSE FIRMLY in mind, Liam drove the BMW he now cherished more than any other possession he’d ever owned—because it was paid in full—away frohborhood and back to the historic don area He didn’t go hoe, he was noorking under the dictates of plan B
A plan that had solidified during the long night
He didn’t call ahead Didn’t want Gabrielle to get any ideas that he was co a shoulder to cry on
Lia on anyone’s shoulder were over
Cataloging every word of the cryptic conversation he’d had with George, telling a story in his mind in an attempt to find clarity, Liam occupied every one of the twenty-two minutes he had to wait for Gabi to finish with her client—a shabby-looking ed jacket out of a trash bin
“Thank you, Miss Gabi,” her client said as she walked with hial aid office
She’d yet to see Lia there on one of the hard plastic chairs He watched her, liking the fact that he could observe this Gabi he’d never seen before