Grayson shook his head. “It’s Kim, and she wasn’t his mistress.” He’d assigned Zabrowski to keep an eye on the girls and their mother—and the rest of Sheffield Grayson’s family. “Kimberly Wright.”
There was no spark of recognition in Savannah’s eyes.
“Your aunt,” Grayson clarified. “Your father’s sister.”
Savannah saw to the core of that in an instant. “Colin’s mother.” She’d known about her cousin. She must have inferred there was an aunt or an uncle, but from Zabrowski’s reports, it didn’t appear there was much, if any, interaction between Kimberly Wright and the girls.
“Dad said she was an addict. He didn’t ever talk about her. Didn’t want her anywhere near us.”
“She’s sober now,” Grayson reported. “Her other children are adults. They don’t seem to visit her much.”
If Savannah wondered how Grayson knew that, she didn’t give any visible sign of it. “It might be nothing,” she said. “The slips. KM. It might not matter. We should stop.”
But she’d already told him she was tired of should.
“I’ll look into it,” Grayson told her.
Savannah’s eyes narrowed. “Gigi still hadn’t come home when I left. Whatever this is—the withdrawal slips, whatever laws Dad may or may not have broken—Gigi doesn’t need to know.” Savannah’s light gray eyes locked on to his. “She doesn’t, but I do.”
The sound of the elevator opening down the hall alerted Grayson to the fact that they had company. Xander stepped out, followed by Nash.
Nash was carrying a limp Gigi.
CHAPTER 57
GRAYSON
Grayson’s heart froze inside his chest. She’s so still. Then Gigi turned her head toward them, a loopy smile on her lips. “What’s black and white and black and white and black and white,” she said, happily slurring the words. “And black and white and black and white and—”
“The answer is a penguin rolling down a hill,” Xander stage-whispered.
Gigi wriggled in Nash’s arms and made an attempt at poking Xander. “No spoilers!”
“Are you drunk?” Savannah asked her sister incredulously.
“As a skunk!” Gigi agreed amiably, then her eyes went very wide. “Hey! I’ve got a new one! What’s black and white and black and white and—”
Grayson met Nash’s gaze. “I can take it from here.”
Nash set Gigi on her feet, and she wobbled slightly, then started cracking up laughing. “Whatever you say, little brother,” Nash drawled.
Gigi pointed a finger at Grayson. “Is he ticklish?” she demanded.
“Grayson?” Xander replied innocently. “Very.”
Gigi crept toward Grayson in what she appeared to think was a very stealthy manner, her hands held aloft, fingers wiggling midair.
“Don’t even think about it,” Grayson commanded.
Gigi hid her hands behind her back—for about half a second, then continued her pursuit.
“Thanks for that,” Grayson told Xander darkly. He was, in fact, very ticklish. So much so that he was having difficulty not reacting to Gigi’s slow progression.
“Tickle… tickle… tickle…” she said, creeping closer. Then she paused. “I would have made an excellent little sister.”
Savannah stepped toward her twin. “I’ll take her home.”
“Nope,” drunk Gigi said cheerfully.
“Yup,” Savannah replied.
Gigi shot Grayson a mischievous look. “Savannah is also very ticklish.”
“Must be genetic,” Xander replied. He—and Nash, for that matter—were enjoying this way too much.
“I will put away the tickling fingers when you agree to negotiate with tickling terrorists!” Gigi declared. “Or terrorist, I guess. Singular. Just me. I want to see the photos from the box. I was thinking: What if they’re decoys? Like, someone looks in the box and thinks, Oh, this Sheffield Grayson guy was a tortured soul wracked with grief for the son he never knew, cursed to parent only daughters, but really… the photos are a clue!”
“A clue to what?” Grayson had the feeling that he was going to regret that question.
“Exactly!” Gigi said.
A sound escaped Nash’s mouth.
“Do not laugh,” Grayson told him.
Nash shrugged. “It’s possible that my younger siblings are also a handful.”