Twirled Bond (Holly Woods Files, #5) Read Free Page B

spray out of my drawer and give the button a push. Not that Bek’s perfume is awful; it’s just stronger than I’d like. Not to mention there are no more croissants to cover it up with their hot, greasy, yummy scent.
    I slump forward on my desk and bury my fingers in my hair. I should have known she’d bring up Drake’s dad. It’s become a regular question, but it’s been a couple of weeks since she last asked me, so I thought it was over. Clearly, I’ve been thinking wrong.
    Ever since the gossip mill churned out that Gianna was dating Drake’s dad, Malcolm Nash, Drake’s been subject to constant interrogation he’s somehow managed to brush off. His skills of evasion used to piss me off, but now, I watch smugly as he uses them on every Betty, Tom, Samuel, and, well, Nonna.
    It’s something I’m still trying to understand, even though the situation has been ongoing for several months. On the one hand, I wonder how he can’t want a relationship with his dad, and on the other, I understand why he doesn’t. It’s been a long time since his dad walked out on him without any answers, and honestly, I don’t know if Drake wants them anymore. They might do more harm than good.
    But the fact that his mom is dating his dad again... I know the reasons had to be something serious but forgivable. Gianna is mostly Italian, after all, and I don’t know about the majority of the nationality, but my family sure holds a grudge. The fact that she’s forgiven him... Well, that speaks volumes to me.
    I’m also highly conscious of the fact that it’s not my place to be involved. I’m here to support Drake and be the person he can vent to, not push him. That’ll only serve to drive a wedge between us, and fuck knows we can do that just brushing our teeth together in the morning.
    We’ve learned the hard way that morning bathroom time—unless it involves a shower—needs to be equivalent with alone time.
    None of this means I don’t want to be involved though. I do. Sometimes, I want to grab my six-foot-something brick wall of a hot detective and shove him through his mom’s door—a place he currently refuses to go.
    Yep. He refuses to go to his mom’s house because he doesn’t trust her to not have his dad there in an attempt to build some form of a relationship or force him to at least speak with him. I thought it was childish at first, especially when Drake added that, if she shows up to our house with him, he can just not answer the door, but...I understand.
    I do. He thinks I’m just saying it sometimes, but I’m not. It took me a while to come around to the idea—which is strange, considering I’m the most childish person I know—but it makes sense to me. Still, I don’t like talking about it, mostly because there is nothing to talk about.
    Gianna is dating Malcolm. Drake point-blank refuses to talk with his dad and only sees his mom in public or at our house. It’s been that way since Gianna finally admitted it, and I don’t know if it’s going to change any time soon.
    Honestly, I just want the shoe closet first.
    “Yo.” Carlton pokes his head through my door, swinging off the doorframe. His scruffy, blond hair swishes into his eyes, and he jerks his head to flip it out of the way.
    “I just wanna...” I squint and make a cutting motion with my first two fingers, pointing them toward his hair.
    He grins. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I pulled those files you were looking for.”
    I frown. Files? What files?
    “For the case you’re working on.”
    “Oh! Yeah. Those. Thanks.” I smile, even as he walks toward me and laughs.
    I still have no idea how I run a successful business. I’m literally winging it.
    “Did you see the news today? About that girl?” He drops himself into the red tub chair Bek was in not so long ago.
    I freeze. The last time a missing girl was on the local news, we found ourselves on the trail of a satanic serial killer.
    “No. What girl?”
    “Daniela someone. She went missing