Betrayed by Melody Anne

woman. That’s the only interpretation Byron could put on the stern tone Bill had used when he’d demanded he come and talk with him immediately.
    Of course, Byron could have said he was a busy man and couldn’t come by right then, but he’d never do that — not in a million years. Bill was one of the few souls on this earth for whom Byron — hell, all the brothers — would drop everything, no questions asked.
    Even if that meant suffering through a long lecture.
    Once inside the ten-story building, Byron began moving toward the elevator. He’d been to Bill’s office many times before. But several businesses leased space in the building, and before he got too far, a woman stopped him.
    “May I help you?” she asked, and Byron wondered if she was supposed to be security. He kept his amusement to himself. A woman security guard wasn’t someone he would fear. Maybe some would say he was a sexist pig. He couldn’t care less.
    “I’m just here to see a friend,” he said as he attempted to walk around her.
    “You must not have been here in the last sixty days…,” she began, but when his intense gaze zeroed in on her, she choked on her words.
    “What does when I have or when I haven’t been here have to do with anything?” he asked, trying to hide his irritation. By the rounding of her eyes, it didn’t appear that he was doing a very good job of that.
    “Um…it’s just that…we…um…have new security protocols now. Everyone has to check in at the…um…what’s that called?” Her cheeks flushed.
    “Front desk?” he asked with as little sarcasm as he could manage.
    “Yes, I’m sorry. I’m not usually so…I don’t know…at a loss for words,” she gulped, her shoulders going back as she tried to regain her composure.
    “Fine. I’ll check in,” he said. He wasn’t happy to be doing so, but, then again, it was the same at his own building.
    “It’s just that we had a robbery a little while back and the people in the offices wanted better security,” she rushed to explain as she walked next to him to the front desk. And there was his reasoning of why a woman couldn’t be a security guard. She could barely speak, let alone take him down if he decided to get violent.
    “I understand.” He was fed up with all these explanations.
    “Thank you,” she breathed as they reached the desk together.
    “Byron Knight here to see Bill Berkshire,” he said with crisp efficiency.
    “One moment, sir,” said the man behind the desk, and he lifted his phone.
    “You’re Byron Knight — the Byron Knight of Knight Construction?” the woman gasped, giving him no choice but to turn his attention back to her.
    “Yes. Do I know you?” he asked, giving her a second glance. He didn’t recognize her, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. He would bet there were a dozen women he could pass on the street who he’d taken to his bed who he wouldn’t recognize a month later. They meant that little to him.
    “No…not really, but my brother has worked for you for three years and talks nonstop about you and your brothers and about what a great job it is. I applied at your building a couple of times, but I haven’t been called back,” she said, looking up at him hopefully.
    “I don’t do the hiring,” Byron told her; that was his typical statement when people approached him about work.
    “Oh, I wasn’t implying anything,” she hastened to say, but he could see disappointment filling her eyes as she smiled up at him weakly.
    To his amazement, Byron felt a twinge of guilt, as if he should at least offer the woman an interview. What in the world was wrong with him?
    “You’re all cleared to head up to the eighth floor, Mr. Knight,” the desk attendant told him. “Here’s your visitor’s badge.”
    “Thank you.” He turned and moved away from the desk and the woman.
    “It was very nice to meet you, Mr. Knight,” the woman said, her eyes flaring the tiniest bit as she reached out a hand and