“Damn straight,” Drew says, coming up on my left.
All the guys came with us. The girls wanted to come too, but we have no idea what we might be walking into, so we left them behind with additional security. None of us are taking any chances. We have all learned firsthand how manipulative these elite assholes are.
“Sawyer.” Hunt’s mom strides quickly across the lobby when we enter the building. “Let me look at you.” She holds him at arm’s length. “You look tired, honey. I hope you’re not working too much.” I’m sure Hunt does not appreciate being babied at twenty-two years old, but I give Ava some credit for trying to make amends. Better late than never, I suppose.
“Xavier, you look tired, too.” Ava pulls her son-in-law in for a hug, and Daniels suctions to her like a piranha.
Jackson chuckles. “He’s such a fucking suck-up.”
“I don’t think maternal hugs were very forthcoming in Xavier’s life growing up,” I murmur. “Can’t blame him for embracing it now.”
“Is Ethan here?” Hunt asks and a muscle ticks in his jaw. Although Ethan Hunt is no longer the CEO of the company he established, he still works in a consultancy capacity for Techxet and sits on the board of several other companies.
“He’s out of town on business though he is aware you are coming here today and why. He said to tell you to be careful.”
Lauder and I share a look. Is it possible Hunt’s father might be softening? For Hunt’s sake, I hope so.
“Lead the way,” Hunt says, and we follow him, Daniels, and his mom to one of the elevators. “Mom, you remember Charlie and Drew from Jackson’s wedding,” he says, jerking his head in their direction as we all pile inside the elevator. Ava knows therest of us well, but she hasn’t had much opportunity to meet the Rydeville elite.
“I do. It’s nice to meet you again,” she says, swiping her card and punching a button on the keypad.
The elevator moves upward, and we all make polite conversation with Hunt’s mom while I try to wrangle my nerves into a box and contain them.
When we step out on one of the top floors, an older lady in an ill-fitting pantsuit is waiting for us in the hallway.
“Francesca, you remember my son, Sawyer?” Ava says, tugging Hunt forward like he’s a show pony.
“Of course I do.” The woman smiles warmly at my best friend. “You were running around these hallways from the time you were knee-high. You might not remember, but I used to sneak you these popsicles from the candy store around the block and you always left with blue lips and a blue tongue.”
Xavier is sporting a face-splitting grin while Hunt looks constipated, such is the effort involved in not frowning.
“That was you!” Ava’s eyes pop wide. “I should probably dock your pay. It used to take me hours to scrub that blue off his mouth.”
“Fun times,” Xavier says, linking his fingers through Hunt’s and squeezing his hand.
“This is my son-in-law, Xavier Daniels.”
“Your reputation precedes you, Xavier. Our CTO says you’re one of the sharpest minds to have ever worked here. He still misses you—misses both of you,” she adds, her gaze bouncing between Hunt and his husband. “We’re all very proud of you here, Sawyer. We hear nothing but glowing reports of your business.”
Her eyes dart behind Sawyer to the rest of our crew, her gaze widening ever so slightly when she spots Rick and me. I share atense look with my brother, and at this point, I’m clinging to my sanity by my fingernails.
Does she recognize a resemblance?
I just need to know, and I’m done with polite bullshit. I’m dangling from a tightrope and could plummet to the ground at any second.
“Thanks, Francesca. That means a lot,” Hunt says.
She nods before her expression turns more serious. “I booked a meeting room, and I’m sure you’re busy men, so let’s move this forward, shall we?”
“I’ll leave you in Francesca’s capable hands,” Ava says. “She worked closely with Vincent for years, and she should be able to tell you anything you need to know.” She touches her son’s face. “Call me before you leave. I’d love to take you all to lunch if that’s an option.”
“I’ll let you know, Mom.” Hunt kisses her on the cheek, and then we all follow Francesca into a large, air-conditioned meeting room. A couple of boxes sit on top of the table, and we all eye them curiously as Hunt makes introductions while we claim seats.
“What would you like to know?” Francesca asks, looking around the room, but her gaze keeps wandering to mine.
“We need to know about Becker’s family,” I blurt, unable to stand it much longer.
“What about them?”
