Six

W yatt relaxed behind his desk, steam rising over his cup.

"Mr. Stone." Cindy stood at the door. Long legs, pretty smile, easy manner.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Alan's secretary, Rey, scheduled a meeting with you. She insisted I schedule it and you meet with Mr. Alan at eight thirty."

"It's eight twenty now, and I haven't even finished my morning coffee."

Her eyes widened.

"Sorry." He gulped the remainder and pulled his jacket from the rack. Why would Devlin want to see him?

Employees, mugs in hand, shuffled through the hallway. He managed a smile. Devlin had secluded himself over the last few months, barely making a peep. The timing of this meeting after Wyatt's recent visit to Greta's office suggested a reason for suspicion.

Rey must be new. He didn't recognize the blonde with pink highlights behind the desk. Devlin had a reputation for going through assistants, which didn't fit. He seemed easy enough to get along with and never caused waves in meetings.

"Can I help you?"

"Good morning. I'm Wyatt Stone. Cindy said you scheduled a meeting for this morning."

She glanced at the time. "Please have a seat. I'll let Mr. Alan know you're here."

He sat in the closest seat and pulled out his phone. The aroma of coffee floated in from down the hall.

"If it'll be a minute, I might grab a coffee from the break room." He rubbed his knuckle against his eye. "In case it's a long meeting."

She winced. "I should probably go get it for you, but I'm supposed to stay here. If he comes out and I'm not here, I might get in trouble. If you're not here, I might get in trouble."

Good grief. "No worries. I'll wait on the coffee."

"Thank you." She let out a sigh. "This is my first week, and I've already made a couple of mistakes."

Devlin had this girl in knots. Maybe he wasn't as easygoing as he let on.

Her phone rang.

"Hello, Mr. Alan." Rey's eyes went wide. "Yes, sir. Cream or sugar?"

Her head and shoulders lowered with the phone.

"Everything okay?"

"Fine." She glanced around the room.

Looking for a camera?

"I'm getting Mr. Alan some coffee. Would you like some?"

"Nah, I don't think it would taste good right now. Thanks, though."

She sent a thankful smile and disappeared.

The custom door clicked open. What was it with these doors?

Devlin stood in its place, the opening overtopping his less-than-average build. Two vertical wrinkles creased from his nose to his forehead. His beady gray eyes were cold like Greta's. His dull brown hair, turning gray, gelled away from his face, his receding hairline leaving his forehead exposed.

"Wyatt, glad your schedule was open. Come on in." Devlin moved back to his desk. "Rey bringing you some coffee?"

Maybe he did have a camera out there. Wyatt made a mental note. "No thanks. I told her I didn't want any."

Devlin's brows shot up as his head tilted. Something was off about his eyes—something dark.

"Nerine told me you dropped by Greta's office looking for a file. Which one?" His eyes sent an accusation across the desk.

He never referred to Greta as mother. Maybe that was a casualty of working together for so long, or maybe it spoke to their relationship.

Wyatt crossed to Devlin's desk and claimed one of the visitors' chairs. "Several times, I suggested we should go digital with the files. Then we wouldn't have to search around when one was missing."

Devlin didn't seem interested either.

"Anyway, I couldn't find the file on the diner purchase. I needed the file to refresh myself on the contract and information."

"I don't want people in her office."

"Nothing has changed."

His eyes flashed. "That's how I want it. I'm not ready for the office to change yet. Is that a problem?"

Wyatt leaned back in his seat, elbows resting on the armrests. "Everyone grieves differently. I wasn't judging. Just taken aback. Did you have a concern about me tracking down the file? It was there, by the way. It included some of the insurance and other information I could have found a different way, but having the file made it easier." He cocked his head. "How are you doing? I haven't seen you around much."

A tap on the door interrupted.

"Yes?"

A spoon clanked against the coffee cup with Rey's steps. She slowed her pace until Devlin waved toward his desk.

The door clicked shut behind her.

There was a dark silence.

Wyatt recoiled, his back against the chair.

"We both know Greta trusted and respected you. But she's gone now, and I'm in charge. I'm going to let this slide, but I don't want you in her office again without my permission. You don't want to cross me. Shut the door after you leave."

"Sure. You're in charge." What's going on? Did Devlin just challenge him to a duel? Was this grief or something else? Devlin hadn't shown him this side before. Wyatt didn't like it.

Rey gave him a fake smile as he left.

"Goodbye." He managed.

When he returned to his office, a soft tone interrupted his thoughts. "Mr. Stone. Rowan Landinger is calling. Should I put him through?"

"Yes. Thank you, Cindy."

Silence.

"Mr. Stone, Rowan Landinger."

"I was just thinking about you. I've been expecting your call for a while."

"I have some news. Ms. Stanten is out of the hospital. But she is going to be out for a few weeks, and Mr. Gray isn't feeling very generous or flexible."

"Does he know everything is covered for her? She should receive her full salary, plus tips, while she is out and anything else she needs."

"He knows."

"And?"

"And he hasn't told her or done anything about it."

Wyatt's hand fisted at his side. "She was injured at the diner. He, more than anyone, should be concerned. What is he doing?"

"What he does."

What a jerk. "I'll call him. I don't have time for games."

"I'll wait to hear from you, sir."

"Thanks for the heads-up."

"You're welcome. I'll contact you if I have any news."

He forced his fist to loosen. "I expect you to continue her salary payments and anything else she needs. Don't stop her checks."

"Understood."

He disconnected the phone and pressed the button for Cindy. "Please connect me to Gray at the Food to Remember Diner in Grandville, Texas."

"Yes, sir. I'll let you know when he is on the line."

"Thank you. I'll stay in my office until I hear back from you."

While waiting, he searched the database of public land records for the deed from Lila to Greta. It had been recorded shortly around the time they would've moved. Not surprisingly, he didn't find it in the stack of files for the diner. Why did Greta want that property?

Cindy's name flashed on his phone, and soon, she'd put Gray through.

"Mr. Stone. This is Fendle Gray from the Food to Remember Diner."

"Gray, did we discuss the incident at the diner and the compensation for the injured party?"

"Well, yes, but she hasn't been working."

"And did we agree her salary would continue, with tips, during the time she is unable to work due to her physical and emotional injuries?"

"I remember that discussion, but we only allow someone one or two days of paid leave for an accident."

"Let's start over. Are you listening?"

"I am."

"Anna Stanten is to be paid her full salary, with estimated tips, plus any other necessary expenses, until she returns. Currently, there is no maximum on her leave. She was injured at the diner due to a lack of security. You understand? It is our responsibility to keep employees safe."

"I understand, but I'm shorthanded. If she stays out for a long period of time—"

"This isn't a discussion. I'm reminding you she is to be paid while she is out. And give her some free food or something. Have you no heart, man?"

"I'm supposed to keep the diner profitable."

"For Alan Corporation? Right now, I'm representing said corporation. Take care of this. If I have to get on a plane and come there myself—" He evened his tone. "Look, you're not on the hook for the shortfall on this. We don't want to be sued. Plus, there's the part where it's the right thing to do. I appreciate that you are worried about the bottom line, and I'm giving you permission to hire someone to help out and keep the salary flowing. Relax about this and do your job. And give everyone a free meal on me today, maybe even allow them a cup of coffee once in a while."

"Yes, sir."

He wouldn't have this conversation again. The next time Gray didn't keep his word, Wyatt would make a call to Ken, the flight manager at the corporate hangar. Greta kept the jet reserved on standby. Devlin didn't fly, so it remained parked in the hangar. Yes, if Gray didn't get it together, Wyatt would call Ken, wheels in the air, headed to Texas.