Page 12 of Shadowed Agenda
Pavlo sat in a chair and pointed to the matching oversized couch opposite him.
“Spill it out and spell it out,” he said, using the voice he’d reserved for training newbie members of Shadow Defense Security. He wanted Regan to understand they weren’t leaving until he had the entire story.
“We need to be downstairs in a few minutes,” Regan protested.
“The studio is only a few blocks away. We can walk. We’ll probably beat the taxi. The traffic is moving at a snail’s pace.” Pavlo motioned to the chairs once more, and Regan reluctantly sat. She put her purse on the coffee table separating them and scowled.
“I don’t know what would have happened in Central Park if you hadn’t been running on the same path and seen me,” Regan said. Pavlo could hear abutcoming. If she thought she’d be able to convince him to back off, it wouldn’t happen. “But this is personal and unrelated to the private book signing.”
“The guy threatened you,” Pavlo said. He didn’t care who this guy was or if he was connected to the Senator. The man had threatened Regan.
“He’s my ex-husband,” Regan huffed, her lips puckered in annoyance.
“Name?” Pavlo asked, intending to do a detailed background on the guy.
“Nicholas Wyndham,” Regan said, and Pavlo arched a brow in surprise.
Shadow Defense had a security contract with the man’s company.
The multimillionaire had a reputation as a ruthless negotiator. When Wyndham mistakenly believed he could negotiate a deal, he’d insisted on speaking with a Shadow Defense owner. Pavlo had drawn the short straw. The man was a control freak used to dealing with people who couldn’t afford to walk away from the negotiating table. Shadow Defense Security didn’t fall into that category. The meeting lasted five minutes. Pavlo had refused to negotiate. He’d told Wyndham to contact their administrative assistant if he was interested in hiring them and their lawyer would forward a contract.
“You’re divorced. What’s his problem?” Pavlo asked.
“I left Nicholas before my daughter was born.” Regan paused as if searching for the right words. “It was a mutually agreeable arrangement.”
She clenched her hands in her lap and sat ramrod straight. Their parting hadn’t been as mutually acceptable or peaceful as Regan wanted him to believe. Pavlo couldn’t see the egotistical asshole making their divorce easy.
“Nicholas is running for the House of Representatives, and his PR consultant is worried about his image if someone discovers he had neglected his responsibilities as a father. He’s recommended Nicholas secure his parental rights.” Regan’s knuckles turned white as she squeezed her hands tighter.
“How often does Nicholas see your daughter?” Pavlo asked. The man was a workaholic, addicted to money, and there was a different woman in each photo taken of him. Pavlo couldn’t imagine him having time to spend with the child nor the patience for a toddler.
“We divorced when I was six months pregnant,” Regan said, staring at the toes of her shoes. “He’s never seen Emmeline. He’s had nothing to do with her as a parent and has given me no financial support.”
Pavlo could understand Wyndham’s PR consultant’s concern. Divorce was common, but never seeing or supporting his daughter could wreak havoc with building an image the public would respect. The timing of Nicholas’ newfound interest in Emmeline concerned him.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Regan said, shaking her head. “Nicholas has supported the Senator’s party in the past. He wouldn’t have approached him for help. He’s too self-absorbed.”
Well, they finally agreed on one thing.
“I’ve got a friend who can check out your ex’s political life and see if he has ties to the Senator,” Pavlo said, pulling out his cell phone from his pants pocket to contact Javier. He swiped the cell phone’s screen and began typing.I need a detailed background check on Nicholas Wyndham. Focus on ties he may have to Senator Aster. Do a complete check on Regan Christenson as well.
Javier’s text followed almost immediately.
Regan Christenson? The author you’re touring with? I thought you’d rather be locked in a room with a live bomb than spend five minutes with her.
Pavlo selected a rude emoji and hitsend.
“He’s going to ask for full custody.” Her voice broke on the last words. Regan ran her hands down her arms.
Pavlo couldn’t help himself. He stood, walked around the coffee table, and sat beside her. He took her hands in his.
“I’ve deliberately kept my author’s life separate from my home life. I didn’t want to draw Nicholas’ attention to Emmeline, scared he’d change his mind as she grew older and decide to ask for visitation rights. Even though he’d signed those away, I don’t trust him.” Regan blinked, her thick lashes holding back tears.
She blinked again, and a single tear slipped out. Pavlo brushed it off her cheek with his thumb. Seeing the strong, confident woman upset and vulnerable shook him.
Regan looked down at their clasped hands. Pavlo could feel her tense, breaking their brief connection. He let go of her hands.
“I know an excellent lawyer. You don’t have to worry,” Pavlo said as he rose. “The car Isla hired should be here.”