Page 3 of Mile High Baby

It wasn't Iceland, but going to New York to protect Henry’s daughter would definitely be an adventure. I had nothing better to do over the next eleven days, and maybe a real assignment was something I needed to get my head back in the game.

"I'm in London right now, but I can catch a flight tomorrow back to New York. I can only give you ten days for sure. After that—"

"Ten days is fine. Thank you so much, Alex. I owe you."

"You don't owe me anything. And don’t worry about fees."

"I can't ask you to work for free. Not with the risk you'll be taking."

I grinned, even though I knew he couldn't see me. "I thought you knew, Henry. I live on risk."

2

Victoria

Isat near the window in my hotel room with a hot cup of coffee, because tea just didn't do it for me. All my meetings were done today, and I was working in my hotel room. I had my laptop open and was checking in on various aspects of my little empire.

I had started my media platform for experts, Masterverse, as part of a college assignment in a business class. But I enjoyed it so much that I continued working on it, expanding the features and growing the platform into a global media resource. It wasn't as big or expansive as the one my father ran. The family media company was started back in the early 1900s, and my father was the fourth generation to be running it. But my little business supported a lifestyle that I enjoyed since I could run it from anywhere.

I probably could have lived a traveling lifestyle without building a business. My father would have wanted me to work in the family business, perhaps even one day taking it over. But even without that, my father had always been very generous in giving me a monthly allowance. He and I were very close, since we were all we had. My mother had run off right after I was born, and while my grandparents were around up until about five years ago, they were the old money sort to believe my father should've left me to be raised by nannies and later boarding school. They were from an era in which if you had a crap ton of money, you had enough not to have to raise your kids.

That's not to say I didn't have a nanny, but my father was always with me at breakfast and dinner. Even when he took over the family company full-time, he made sure to attend my school events and dance recitals. And he was one of the biggest supporters of my business.

Over the last two years, my business had done well enough that I'd started saving the allowance my father gave me and living on my earnings. I wasn't sure what I was going to do with the savings. I liked knowing it was there in case of emergencies, but maybe I’d throw my father a blow-out party in two years when he turned fifty.

Last year, I hired a few people here in London to help manage the international aspects of my business. That was why I was here now, meeting with them. But my meetings were over, and after I finished today, I planned to take a few days off and make a trip to the Isle of Skye to see fairy pools. It sounded like a magical place.

It was nearly three when I finished checking in and dealing with the little fires. I was getting ready to pack and book my trip to Scotland when my phone rang. I checked my caller ID and saw my father’s name flash. My heart rate sped to a full sprint. He knew I was out of town and wouldn’t call unless it was an emergency.

I answered the phone. "Dad? What's wrong?"

"I'm fine, Princess, but I need you to come home."

Those words sounded so ominous to me. Was he dying? "Yes, of course, but what happened?"

"I don't want to go into it over the phone, but suffice it to say that you need to come home. I'll feel much better knowing that you're here."

Didn't he know that being so obtuse only freaked me out? "I'll catch the next flight that I can.” I wondered how soon I could book a flight. Most airlines booked beyond capacity, and I worried I wouldn’t be able to get a seat until tomorrow or the day after. “But you have to tell me what's going on. You’ve got me worried sick. Are you ill?"

"I'm fine. Right now, everything is okay. I just really need you to come home."

Anger boiled up. "Dammit, Dad, what's going on?"

"We've just been having a little bit of trouble with some people who aren't happy with what we’re printing."

Immediately, my thoughts went to George Pitney. There was no evidence of all the dastardly deeds he was rumored to have done, which was probably why he wasn't in prison. But I doubted there was a person alive who didn't believe he’d done them. I knew Dad's investigative journalism division had been doing some deep dive exposés on George, but would George so blatantly attack my father or any of his writers? If the rumors of his past deeds were true, the answer was yes.

"Are you safe?"

"I'm fine, Tori, but I'd feel much better knowing you were home."

If my father felt this desperate to have me home, I was going to go home. "I'm almost packed, and I'll get the next plane to New York."

I lucked out in that there was one first-class seat available on the six o’clock flight to New York. By the time I’d been able to get to the airport and through TSA, the flight was nearly ready to leave. I had just made it to the gate as they were getting ready to shut the doors. I rushed through to the plane, the last passenger to board.

As someone who enjoyed traveling but not dealing with airports, I'd learned how to pack light on my trips, which meant I carried my luggage, along with a backpack that held my computer and purse items.

"Welcome aboard," the well-groomed, thirty-something steward greeted.