I quickly changed into some workout pants and running shoes, grabbing a towel and pulling on a T-shirt as I left the office. At the front desk I passed Caroline, one of the college-aged, part-timers we’d hired, who gave me a sweet smile as always. I held up my hand, and she tossed me a water bottle from the cooler behind her. Same drill every day. She knew what to do.

“Uh, Mr. Mori?” she spoke up as I kept walking.

I slowed to a stop and turned around. “What is it?”

Her blonde ponytail sat high, and her navy blue polo with the Graymor Cristane logo on the left breast was pristine and ironed, as always.

She looked behind me and gestured to something, and I turned my head, getting aggravated. Really, the girl acted like I was going to eat her if she spoke.

But, spotting the two visitors loitering in the lobby, I suddenly forgot about Caroline.

Banks stood next to the wall to my right, holding one of the bamboo poles from the rack hanging there. She looked up at me and then back down, absently examining the weapon as if she were window shopping with no other purpose for being here.

Across the room, to her right, stood a man who seemed vaguely familiar. Clearly one of Gabriel’s henchmen, judging by his shaved head, silver chain, tacky leather jacket, and black and blue marks around his eye.

I set the water bottle and the towel down. Their presence was either a very good sign or a very bad one. I didn’t want trouble, not here.

Walking slowly toward the girl, I held her eyes as I reached out and gently took the stick from her hands.

“It’s a shanai,” I told her. “A Japanese sword.”

She stared at me, expressionless, and the rise and fall of her chest was steady and slow. Controlled. Too controlled. I backed away with the weapon, trying not to take in her appearance or revel in how it amused me.

A simple, black ski cap covered every single piece of what I knew was rich, dark brown hair underneath, and instead of the suit she’d worn today, she now hid nearly every inch of her shape in a pair of old jeans with rips on the knees, combat boots, and a short, black jacket buttoned up to the neck, her hands disappearing into the pockets.

But before she hid them, I noticed she still wore the same fingerless, leather gloves she was wearing earlier today. The only visible skin on her was a bit of her neck and her face.

I liked that. She was still a mystery.

I pulled my gaze reluctantly from her, turning my head to the other man. “Have you come with a message?” I asked. “Will Gabriel do business?”

The man, whom I judged to be in his mid-thirties by the wrinkles setting in around his eyes, cast a quick glance at the girl and then tipped his chin up at me.

“Why do you want the hotel, exactly?”

“I’m a businessman,” I replied. “I’m acquiring property, like businessmen do.”

His eyes shot to her again, and I narrowed my own, following his gaze. Banks stared back at him, and I swore I saw a slight smile on her face.

A silent dialogue passed between them, and I watched them both carefully.

The man finally drew in a deep breath and nodded. “Mr. Torrance is interested in opening up a dialogue with you.”

But I just scoffed. “Opening up a dialogue…” I mocked under my breath. “Yes, I know Gabriel’s dialogue very well. And I already agreed that his son could return, but I’m going to need assurances of my own.”

He shot a quick glance at Banks—again—and then answered me, resolute. “Ms. Fane will be safe.”

“You can’t guarantee that,” I argued, stepping forward. “We both know Damon doesn’t let anyone speak for him.”

“Damon will do what his father says.”

I stood there, keeping quiet and thinking.

If Gabriel was willing to let me buy the hotel, that meant Damon might not be there, after all. Or, quite possibly, Gabriel just didn’t know where his son was. Prison had embarrassed our families immensely, and Gabriel Torrance was not interested in seeing his son screw up again.

If he knew where his son was, he’d bring him home. My intent, though, was to find him before his father did.

“I want inside the hotel first,” I told him. “I need to dig around a bit and evaluate how much work it will take me.”

His eyes darted over to her again, but it was so quick I missed her silent response.

“No problem,” he finally answered.

Why did he keep looking at her? What the hell was going on?

I looked at them both, perplexed and forgetting I’d just agreed to buy a multi-million-dollar hotel.

Licking my lips, I twirled the staff in my hand in a circle, musing. “You know, when I was fourteen, Gabriel told Damon and me something I’ll never forget. ‘Women’ he said, ‘are either toys or tools. They’re good for play or good for pay.’” I spun the staff slowly and watched them carefully. “In all the years I was friends with Damon, I noticed a striking difference between his home and mine. My mother has never been a docile woman, while any woman I encountered in the Torrance house was either for sex or a servant. Toy or tool.”

“And?” the man asked.

“And I’m not sure which category she fits into,” I said, pointing the staff at Banks. “Every time I ask you a question, you look to her for the answer. It’s odd for a woman to have that kind of power, given what I know of Gabriel Torrance.”

He glanced at her again, appearing to look for direction.

She was the one in charge.

Not him.

That’s it.

How interesting.

I held the weapon at my side and approached her, staring down. “Let’s cut through the shit and deal direct, huh?” I said, my patience now gone.

As I entered her space, the man approached quickly, probably on guard, and I shot out the pole, hitting him in the chest and stopping him. “And if I remember correctly,” I said, looking over at him, “she knows how to do her own fighting, so go wait in the car.”

His jaw flexed, his body stiffened, and he was ready for a fight. But he glanced at her, waiting for the order.

She hesitated a moment, finally giving him a nod and dismissing him. He shot me a glare before turning on his heel and storming out of the dojo.

Banks fixed her eyes back on me, cocking her head.

“Are you scared of me now, kid?” I asked. “Can’t do your own talking anymore?”

I wanted to make her uncomfortable as payback for playing with me today, but I didn’t want her to lose her spine, either.

But instead of answering, she just turned her head away, seemingly bored.

I chuckled to myself, walking to the wall and placing the weapon back on the rack.

“So, what impression did you gather today to pass on to Damon’s father?” I inquired. I wanted to know what we said in that room that gave her assurance when we thought it was only a servant eavesdropping.

“Whatever it was,” she replied, “he liked what he heard, because he has a proposition for you. I’m here with his authority.”

My hand shook, and I pulled it away from the wall. Her voice. She’d only said a few words earlier today, but now…. That same smooth taunt I remembered showed itself, bringing me back. I walked around, facing her and folding my arms across my chest.

She was a good six inches shorter than me, but with the cocky glint in her eye, she might as well have been six inches taller.

“Kai, is everything okay?” Rika asked behind me.

“It’s fine,” I said, not looking at her.

Judging from all the chatter in the distance and the sound of locker room doors swinging open and closed down the hallway, Rika must’ve been done with her class.

“Rika?” I called over my shoulder, catching her before she walked off. “Would you get Will and Michael and meet us in the office, please?”

I didn’t see her face but heard her hesitant, “Sure.”

She left, and I turned, waving my arm and gesturing to Banks. “Down the hall. Ladies first.”

I expected some flash of aggravation to cross her face, but there was nothing. Her stare remained flat as she brushed past me, heading toward the hallway, and I followed close, my heart pumping a little harder as I gazed at the back of her.