The Troubleshooter: Norcross Series

by Hackett, Anna

  “Yes.” Gia’s chin lifted another inch.

  “Cut her loose,” Vander bit out. “I’ll get word out to whoever’s after her that you are not involved.”

  The man on the ground finally shook off his grogginess and raised his head. He looked at Vander and went still. “You’re Vander Norcross.”

  Vander just stared at him.

  “And she’s his sister,” Saxon added.

  “Fuck,” the man breathed. Then he gathered himself. “It won’t stop my boss. He wants his gems back.”

  “Gems?” Saxon cut a glance to Gia.

  She sighed. “Willow was seeing a guy. They had words—”

  “He dumped her drug-addicted ass,” the man said.

  “She took a bag of precious stones from him,” Gia said.

  “Jesus,” Vander scowled. “Cut her loose.”

  “Vander, no.” Gia grabbed her brother’s arm. “You know she had a rough childhood. She—”

  “Is an adult,” Saxon said, interrupting her. “She can’t keep using that as an excuse to fuck up.”

  Gia’s eyes narrowed. “You might’ve grown up with a set of silver spoons shoved in your mouth, but she didn’t.”

  “She’s trouble, Gia,” Easton said. “Always was, even though you couldn’t see it. Your loyalty is admirable…”

  “No, it’s not,” Saxon said. “It’s stupid.”

  Those brown eyes—surrounded by ridiculously long lashes—flared hot. “You never miss a chance to tell me I’m stupid.”

  “Contessa—”

  “No.” She cut her hand through the air. “Willow has no one. Anyway, she’s gone now. If she calls, I’ll tell her to return what she stole.”

  Shit. Saxon did admire Gia’s loyalty, but he was still mad. He knew that whoever Gia loved, she protected them fiercely.

  Vander crouched by the man. “Who’s your boss?”

  The man didn’t hesitate. “Kyle Dennett.”

  Saxon barely controlled his sneer. An upstart trying to make a name for himself in the San Francisco drug trade. The guy had a few legit businesses—bars, a club. But you didn’t have to dig far below the veneer of businessman to find filth.

  “You tell him that Gia is off your radar, otherwise he’ll deal with me,” Vander said.

  The man nodded.

  Saxon stepped closer, then noticed something. He gripped Gia’s chin and tilted it up.

  “Hey, hands off—” She tried to jerk out of his hold.

  “Your cheek is swelling.”

  Three sets of male eyes swung to the man. He looked like he was hoping the ground would open and swallow him up.

  “Did you hit her?” Saxon asked softly.

  Gia cleared her throat. “Guys—”

  Saxon gripped the back of the man’s shirt and started dragging him across the courtyard.

  “Saxon!” She moved to follow.

  Then Saxon heard her make a sound.

  “Let go of me, Easton!”

  Saxon delivered a hard punch to the man’s face. He groaned. Saxon felt icy, deadly calm spread over him.

  Suddenly, the man leaped up and attacked. He kicked Saxon’s knee and Saxon staggered, but caught his balance.

  The man launched at Saxon. Clearly, the guy had been play-acting, and wasn’t as hurt as he’d seemed.

  “Do something!” Gia cried.

  “Sax has it,” Easton murmured.

  Dennett’s man lunged forward, and Saxon let him get a hit in. His fist rammed into Saxon’s gut. But that got the man close, and Saxon followed through with a hard jab to the face, then a chop to the back of the man’s neck. Saxon put all his strength into it.

  With a groan, the man went to his knees, blood streaming down his face and soaking into his shirt.

  “Hurt her again, and this will seem like just a bit of fun,” Saxon warned.

  Then Saxon turned, tugging the hem of his jacket and dusting it off.

  Gia was staring at him, her gaze running over his body like she was looking for injuries. Then she looked behind Saxon. Her face changed and he tensed.

  Suddenly, she broke free of Easton. She was right near the construction and scooped up a hunk of rock. She threw it.

  For a second, Saxon thought she was throwing it at him.

  The rock sailed right past him and as he swiveled, he saw the chunk of stone hit Dennett’s guy right between the eyes.

  He howled, and dropped the gun that he’d pulled from somewhere.

  The Norcross brothers raced forward, and soon had the man on his belly, hands zip tied.

  Saxon stared at Gia. He saw fear on her face before she quickly hid it.

  “Bastardo.” She spat at the man on the ground.

  Saxon’s lips twitched. Mrs. Norcross was Italian-American, and had clearly passed on some curses to Gia.

  God, she was beautiful. A tiny Italian goddess.

  “Gia.” Saxon desperately wanted to touch her, but couldn’t risk it.

  He’d want more, take more.

  He was pretty sure her brothers wouldn’t like him kissing the hell out of her in front of them.

  “Lucky you were so damn good at softball, Gia,” Easton said.

  Vander and Easton heaved the man up.

  “I’ll take care of this.” Vander shot Gia an unhappy look. “You fucking deal with Willow, Gia. She’s out of your life.”

  With one hand clamped on the groggy thug’s arm, Vander dragged the man away.

  “I’ll check on Rhys,” Easton said. “He’s with Haven, and mom and dad, keeping an eye on things inside. I’ll let everyone know that you’re okay.” Easton swiveled and headed up the steps back to the gala.

  “I’ll take you home,” Saxon said.

  Gia wrapped her arms around herself, her face pale. “I have my driver.”

  “I’ll take you home,” he said again.

  “No.” She shook her head. “I’ve had enough for tonight. I want to be alone.”

  “You need to cut Willow off, Gia.”

  “Don’t start, Saxon.”

  He grabbed her arm. “Her mess could have gotten you killed. Tonight could have turned out very differently.”

  Gia looked sad and tired. “She’s my friend.”

  “She’s not a very good one.”

  “Enough. God. You’re always questioning my judgment. Back off, Saxon. I’m not a brainless doll.”

  No, she was one of the smartest, savviest people he knew. But he didn’t want her hurt. Willow would take advantage, like she always did.

  “I never said you were brainless, but sometimes you make bad choices when it comes to those you care about.”

  “And you never let me forget it.” Her hands balled into fists. “Quit picking on me!”

  He reached out and tugged on one of her curls. He loved her thick mass of curly, dark hair. “Contessa, if I didn’t pick on you, you’d feel deprived.”

  She made an annoyed sound and knocked his arm away. “Leave me alone, Saxon Buchanan!”

  He waited a beat. She usually got creative when she started ranting. “That all you’ve got?” Damn, arguing with her got his blood pumping.

  Her nose wrinkled. “I was hoping for something more dramatic than that, but that’s the best I’ve got. I’m tired and sore.” She stormed off, her dress flaring behind her.

  Saxon shook his head. It was getting harder and harder to ignore how he felt about Gia. He’d been trying to leave her alone for years. His hands flexed.

  Gia Norcross had been off-limits for a long time.

  But tonight, that changed.

  Chapter Two

  She was going to need more concealer.

  In her lovely bathroom, her little sanctuary, Gia dabbed on her makeup.

  She was headed to work shortly, had a full day ahead of her, and needed to hide two sleepless nights and her bruises.

  She hadn’t slept much Saturday night after the gala, and she’d spent Sunday locked in her apartment, ignoring the world, and worrying abou
t Willow. Everyone had called to check on Gia, and she’d done her best to reassure them she was all right. Last night, she’d been exhausted and sure she’d sleep. Instead, she’d had nightmares of Dennett’s man chasing her…but as she ran, he’d morphed into a steely-eyed Saxon, which had strangely scared her more.

  Finally, Gia had fallen into a restless sleep in the early hours, then slept through her alarm. Which meant she was late. She hated being late.

  She blew out a breath and studied her reflection. That would have to do. She walked into her bedroom, wearing only her black bra and panties. Gia loved lingerie. She owned zero pairs of granny panties, and she had more bra and panty sets than she’d ever ’fess up to. She stepped into a sleek, navy-blue dress, and pulled her hair up into a twist.

  She dug around in her walk-in wardrobe, and found a pair of navy Jimmy Choo pumps.

  Then, her cell phone rang.

  Cursing, she ran into the kitchen. She could run in heels just fine. She was the shortest in her family, so she’d been trying to compensate for years. Hell, she could probably run a marathon in heels. Okay, maybe not a marathon since she hated running.

  She snatched her phone off the kitchen island. It was Haven.

  “Hi, girlfriend. I told you yesterday, I’m fine.”

  “G, I’m the queen of telling people that I’m fine when I’m not. Don’t kid a kidder.”

  Gia sighed. “Fine. I didn’t sleep well. I’m worried about Willow.”

  “But not yourself,” Haven said dryly.

  “And I want to skewer Saxon with a fork and watch him bleed.”

  “Hmm.”

  Haven had a funny tone to her voice. “What does that mean?”

  “It means hmm.”

  “Haven—”

  “It means that after thirty seconds around you two, I feel the need for a cigarette. And I’ve never smoked in my life.”

  Gia sniffed. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You know, Gia. You’re the smartest woman I know.”

  “He’s like an annoying older brother.” Liar, liar, Gia Gabriella. She’d never, not once, thought brotherly thoughts about Saxon Buchanan.

  “Hmm,” Haven said again.

  “I’m ignoring that and hanging up now. I have to get to work.”

  “I won’t forget. One night, I’m going to get you tipsy on your favorite Syrah, and you’re going to tell me all about your supernova sexual tension with the oh-so-sexy Saxon.”

  “Nothing to tell. Okay, bye.”

  Shoving all thoughts of Saxon down deep and clanking a big padlock on them, Gia grabbed her things and strode out of her apartment.

  She lived in a gorgeous building in SoMa. Between her apartment and her business, she owed way too much to the bank, but thankfully, Easton was a financial whiz. After he’d left the Army Rangers, he’d dedicated himself to making money. He managed all her investments, and Firelight PR turned over a tidy profit.

  Her car was waiting out front. Her driver, Rob—a buff man in his late forties—opened the door for her.

  “Morning, Ms. Norcross.”

  “Good morning, Rob. How’s Katie today?”

  The man grinned. “That florist you suggested did the trick. She loved the flowers, and forgave me.”

  “Wonderful news.” Gia slid into the back seat of the Mercedes.

  Rob had lost his first wife five years ago to cancer. He’d found navigating the dating scene hard, but had ended up falling for the sweet, forty-something schoolteacher who lived next door to him.

  The car slid into traffic. Gia’s office was downtown, so there wasn’t far to go, but she got a lot of work done on her phone on the drive.

  Gia was happy for Rob and Katie. And Haven and Rhys. Gia had no time for a man, and had yet to meet one who could keep up with her. So many felt intimidated, or were needy, or competitive. The last guy she’d dated could not handle the fact she made more money than he did.

  Lifting her phone, she opened her emails. Work was all she needed.

  She started sorting through the urgent stuff that needed her attention. She had her assistant cull lots of them. She also had a great team at Firelight PR. She loved her job.

  She did work for Easton, especially for the Hutton. She did work for Vander when he let her. Norcross Security at least had a website, but much to her dismay, no social media presence. Vander had made it very clear that he’d never post on social media.

  She saw an email from a Kenneth Grahame and froze. He was the author of an old English children’s story, Wind in the Willows.

  Willow.

  She opened it. There were only two words. I’m okay.

  Gia closed her eyes. Her friend was okay. Of course, Willow hadn’t thought to ask about Gia.

  Willow had survived a tough upbringing. Her mom had been an alcoholic, and her dad had just been plain mean. They hadn’t been poor, but they’d been definitely on the bottom rung of middle-class, and clinging to it desperately. Willow had always resented that she’d had to go without. And when times were tough, her dad had coped by hitting Willow and her mom sometimes.

  Willow always had an edginess to her, like she was looking for where the next blow might come from, or searching for her next escape route. She’d been wild, and still was. Teenage Gia had been in awe of her.

  Now, grown-up Gia was just worried about her friend. They weren’t as close as they had been. Willow had a drug problem, and Gia had paid for rehab twice. Her heart twisted. Willow had stayed four days the first time, and two days the second time around.

  Her brothers and Saxon wanted Gia to cut her off, but then Willow would have no one.

  Gia remembered that Willow had been the one who’d taught Gia to use makeup. They’d giggled together about boys. She’d helped Gia get revenge on Nancy Butler, who’d kissed Gia’s boyfriend at school. There’d been a lot of toilet paper involved.

  She smiled, remembering those days. Willow was also the only person a young Gia had confessed to that she had a deep crush on her brother’s best friend. Yeah, she’d crushed hard on the gorgeous, beautiful, golden Saxon Buchanan…for about thirty seconds. She’d been twelve and full of budding hormones. He’d been sixteen, and took every chance to tease Gia—about her hair, about being on the debate team, about her boyfriends, about everything.

  Argh, he made her lose her temper quicker than anyone she’d ever known. Over his and Vander’s last few years at school, Saxon had become her nemesis. Whenever they’d been in the same room, they’d argued. He’d teased her and she’d shouted at him. The man thought he was better than everyone else, and he was so damn bossy. She’d watched him work his way through all the cheerleaders at school with ridiculous ease. It had been Gia’s sworn duty to keep the man’s ego from growing to epic proportions.

  She might have shed a tear or two when he’d enlisted with Vander and they’d both joined the Army. Not that she’d ever tell Saxon that.

  She’d seen him occasionally when he and her brothers were on leave from Delta Force. Even then, Saxon had excelled at annoying the hell out of her. The man knew just what buttons to press, the arrogant know-it-all.

  Gia shook it all off as the car stopped. “Thanks, Rob.”

  “Call me if you need me.”

  She strode into the building. She loved the bright, airy lobby. Firelight PR took up two floors, and she kept tapping on her phone as she rode the elevator up.

  “Morning, Janine,” she said to the receptionist at the high, polished reception desk.

  “Good morning, Ms. Norcross.” The bubbly blonde smiled back.

  Gia strode through the open-plan office area. Phones were ringing, keyboards clacking, and several people surrounded a whiteboard, having a spirited debate.

  Ah, yes, she loved her work.

  She neared her corner office, and outside, her assistant Ashley Wu rose from her desk. She was two years older than Gia, with the long lean body of a dancer. She was also the most organized woman on the planet.


  “Morning.” Ashley held out a takeout coffee cup.

  “I knew there was a reason I employed you.” Gia sipped and groaned.

  “Late night?” Ashley’s long, dark hair was black at the top, but slowly changed colors to a silver-pink at the ends.

  “Rough night,” Gia corrected. “Caffeine will be my God today.”

  “How was the gala?”

  “Great.”

  Ashley lifted a newspaper off her desk. “Uneventful?”

  Gia saw the headline. Shootout at Museum Charity Gala.

  “Hmm.” Gia drank some more coffee.

  “It says that a woman in a gorgeous blue Alberta Ferretti dress and a man pulled guns and fired on each other.”

  Oh, crap. “Really?”

  “Gia, I helped you pick out that dress. I’m guessing Easton pulled a ton of strings for your name not to be in here.” Ashley stabbed the paper.

  “My brothers handled it.”

  Ashley got a dreamy, faraway look on her face.

  “Ash?”

  “Sorry, just a little daydream about your brothers handling me. All three of them, at the same time.”

  “Ew, stop fantasizing about my brothers.” Gia had suffered her entire life having three hot brothers. “And Rhys is taken now.”

  “I hate Haven,” Ashley said good-naturedly. “That lucky bitch.”

  Smiling, Gia crossed to her office.

  It was airy, elegant, with pops of color. The windows at one end let in lots of light. Behind her wide, pale-wood desk she had built in shelves that flanked a colorful painting done in splatters of pink, yellow, blue, and green. Two comfy, yet stylish, white guest chairs sat in front of her desk. At the other end of the space was a sleek, feminine chesterfield sofa with lots of colorful pillows.

  She dumped her bag on her desk. “I don’t want to talk about the museum. Everything is fine.”

  Ashley’s nose wrinkled.

  Gia raised a brow. “Okay, what have we got today?”

  “Meetings, meetings, and more meetings.” Ever efficient, Ashley lifted her tablet. “You have a nine AM call about the Rivera account. Potential new client coming in at ten. She’s expanding her chain of sports bars and wants a full workup for the launch and branding. Eleven AM, team workshop. And then you have a lunch meeting.” Ashley winced.