“I take it Palmer didn’t tell you he screwed up,” I said.

“Palmer?” James looked from Gabriel to me. “I have no idea what this is about, but we should talk in my office.”

“Sorry,” I said. “But if we do this in private, this time it might be me who ends up in a jail cell on charges of trespassing and assault. You may know Palmer by another name, but that seems to be the one he used in his e-mail exchange with you.” I stepped toward him. “I really don’t appreciate being held at gunpoint.”

“Gunpoint? Is this about last night? If you think I had anything to do with that—”

“I mean this morning. Yep, it happened again, and this time you had everything to do with it. Palmer confirmed you’re his client, James.” I took out my phone. “Let me forward you the e-mail where you discussed terms with him in case you’ve lost it.”

“E-mail . . . ? I’m completely lost here, Olivia, but if you have an e-mail that appears to come from me, someone has set up a dummy account.”

“It’s your personal address.”

“Then it’s been hacked or spoofed. Yes, send it to me, and I’ll have my technicians prove that.”

“I’m sure they will,” Gabriel murmured behind me.

“Is anyone talking to you?” James snapped, and when he did, several employees who’d been wandering off looked over. This didn’t sound like their boss; it sounded like a peevish little boy.

“Whatever this is, Walsh,” James said, “it’s none of your business.”

“Anytime you hire someone to put a gun to Olivia’s head and kidnap her, I’ll make that my business.”

James turned to me. “Why the hell would I hire someone to kidnap you?”

“Because, apparently, I’m being brainwashed by . . .” I jerked my thumb toward Gabriel.

“Well, that’s the first sensible thing you’ve said since you got here. I wouldn’t call it brainwashing, but it’s clearly something, and obviously someone else is as concerned as I am about it.”

“And hacked your e-mail to hire people to ‘deprogram’ me? Who would do that?”

James paused, mental wheels turning. Then he looked straight at Gabriel. “Only one person.”

“Yes,” Gabriel said dryly. “I hired men to waylay us in my parking garage.”

“I’m sure you’d use whatever scenario would allow you to play the white knight.”

“Actually, Olivia extricated herself from the situation. But your choice of wording is interesting, given that the men who attacked us used a similar phrase.”

“We know what you did, James,” I said. “We have proof. Back off. Now.”

“Or else?” James said.

“I think we’re civilized enough to avoid threats.”

“But if you’d like one . . .” Gabriel said, his voice a purring rumble. “I’d be happy to oblige.”

James stepped in front of Gabriel. When he saw he had to look up, he inched back, seemed to realize that looked bad, too, and stood his ground.

“I have no intention of abandoning Olivia,” James said. “So tell me—tell everyone here—what you plan to do about that.”

“Change your mind.”

Gabriel’s voice was low, almost soft, but the look in his eyes was bone-chilling. James took another step back and caught himself again.

“You will leave her alone,” Gabriel said. “One way or another.”

“That sounds like a death threat, Walsh.”

“Then you lack imagination.”

With that, it was time to walk away. I headed for the elevator. Gabriel followed.

—

I took the driver’s seat this time. Gabriel relinquished the keys without a word.

“I’m going to get a restraining order,” I said as we drove away. “Yes, having worked in a women’s shelter, I know they aren’t worth the paper they’re written on, but I need to establish a record of harassment.”

When he said nothing for two blocks, I asked, “You don’t think I should?”

“I agree that a record is wise. I’m just not certain I can help you obtain one.”

“No problem. I’ll do it myself.”

“I don’t mean . . .” He cleared his throat. “No matter how you obtain it, your connection with me will . . . I’ve used restraining orders in the past to establish a record of harassment against a client. Except in those cases . . .”

“Your clients weren’t actually being harassed.”

“I’ll fix this, Olivia.”

“It’s not really your problem to fix,” I said softly.

“Actually, it is. I’m the one who . . . made that deal with him.”

“To protect me and get us back together again.” Gabriel had accepted money from James, to look after me and help me reconcile with him.

“It wasn’t—” Silence. Then, “Whatever my intentions, it’s clear that he interpreted our arrangement to mean reconciliation was a strong possibility. You said it was over, and I muddied the waters. I miscalculated.”

Two words. Simple enough. I miscalculated. But they weren’t simple at all. They were an admission of fallibility, and that didn’t come easy for Gabriel.

“I’ll fix this,” he said. “I promise.”