SEVENTEEN
Roxie’s phone was on loud in anticipation of Zairn’s call, otherwise she may not have heard it. Her chattering girls ushered Zairn toward the couch as she hurried around it to get the device.
While picking up the melted ice-cream from the coffee table, she read the name of the caller.
Interesting. “Yes, I have him,” she answered the call without any greeting, leaving the couch area while her girls herded Zairn closer to it. “And you can’t have him. I need him for something I’m not gonna tell you about.”
“Trish Gambatto sent a statement to the press,” Ballard said, ignoring the quip. “She’s claiming we made the Chicago decision to accommodate our support for her brother.”
“Oh my God,” she murmured, lowering the ice-cream to the sink.
“Rox…”
“I know,” she said, already strid
