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with a nod to Finn and Allegra. “Do you know anything about it?”
    Drake shrugged his broad shoulders. “They’re just friends. Allegra helped Finn a lot when he was putting together the proposal to buy the sports agency. Finn mentioned she was recommending a couple of big-name models to Simpson Entertainment Agency, too.”
    “And I go to Finn’s gym with her in the morning, but I don’t see anything unusual going on between them.” Elle lowered her voice. “Don’t let Aunt Flory hear us, but look at Mary and Phillip. Since they got together, it’s like she’s a new person. Before she moped around the office and would never do much for us. But now she’s killing it in the PR department and looks so happy and confident.”
    “Phillip, too. He’s pulled back some of his outrageous behavior and is suddenly using words like future and I’ll check with Mary ,” Drake joked.
    “I’m so happy for them.” Bree was interrupted by her phone. “Marcus?”
    “Marcus?” Margaret’s head popped up from across the room.
    “He’s my site manager,” Bree hissed as she put her hand over the phone. “It’s Saturday. What’s going on?”
    Bree listened to Marcus and hung up with a sigh. Apparently it wasn’t only her car that had been vandalized.

     

CHAPTER THREE
     
    Logan had worked without sleep for almost two days. His secretary was about to kill him, and he was about to kill the next person who dared talk to him. But he’d gotten two weeks’ worth of work done in two days and was back at Heathrow Airport. This was the first time he was looking forward to an eight-and-a-half-hour flight.
    Dragging his carry-on behind him, he walked down the gate and found his seat in Business Class. He was asleep before the door was closed. Dreams of telling the spoiled Simpson heir to go to hell filled his head. While he didn’t know Mr. Simpson, he’d heard all about him building up casinos in Europe with his inheritance. And he’d be stupid if he hadn’t heard of Elle Simpson. Apparently she wrangled her brother in from Europe. When Logan was in Dubai, he’d heard that Simpson had left for some build in Atlanta. He’d already reworked the Atlanta corporate center plans more times than he could remember and Mr. Simpson was about to learn that he couldn’t get everything he wanted.
     
    * * *
     
    Marcus stood with his hands on his jean-clad hips waiting for Bree. She parked on the street and popped the trunk to the sports car Reid let her borrow. As soon as she got out of the car, Marcus walked toward her.
    “I don’t know the extent of the damage yet. I’ve called the police and the crew. As soon as the police get here and document everything, the crew will start cleaning it up,” Marcus said with a hard edge to his voice.
    Bree rarely saw this side of him. Marcus was always calm and collected. Bree slipped off her wedges and grabbed her boots from the trunk. “Let’s go see the extent of the damage while we wait for everyone to show up.” She reached in again and pulled out her pink hard hat.
    “It starts here. The office is ransacked.” Bree stomped across the dirt and gravel to where the office windows were smashed and hot pink spray paint covered the outside. The words slut and whore were written along the walls of the trailer.
    Bree stepped into the office and wanted to cry. Papers were everywhere. Desks were broken. Cabinets lay in splinters around the room. “Were you able to save anything?”
    “Everything was destroyed except for the papers I had at home. Luckily, those were the ones we need the most. I’d also saved all the computer files to an external hard drive. So really, it’s just a fright to look at, but it won’t ruin us.”
    “Thank goodness. When Mallory gets home, I’ll have her increase security and see if she can do something to help.” Bree paused and let out a slow breath.
    She knew that Elle would want to know, but Bree didn’t want to admit she had failed her big