—eight—
Scott
A few days later, I’m sitting in the lobby of the Maryland offices of Mayfair Enterprises, a sprawling campus of buildings filled with computer engineers and marketing staff. Unlike the New York headquarters, this place doesn’t give me the heebie-jeebies, but I’m not sure why I’m here.
Jeff’s favour was completely off the books, but he’d sent me a cryptic text message asking me to meet him here. The automatic doors slide open and in walks my brother.
Not Jeff.
Will Mayfair. Little brother. Fighter pilot.
I jump to my feet. “What are you doing here?”
He slowly pushes his aviator sunglasses onto his head and gives me a cocky smile. “I could ask you the same question.”
“Jeff asked me to show. Shouldn’t you be sunning yourself under a palm tree?” Will’s the youngest of the three of us, and he’s supposed to be out in California flying planes for the Air Force.
“Same deal. He asked me if I could make it out to D.C., and it just so happened there was a military transport I could hop on.”
“He didn’t send the jet?”
“He offered.”
And Will wouldn’t have wanted to owe Jeff—or our mother—anything. I get it. “You here long?”
He shook his head. “A few hours.”
“Damn. Good to see you anyway.” We exchange a bro hug and stay standing. “How’s work?”
He grins broadly. “Fantastic. I’m deploying again soon.”
I feel that familiar whirl of anxiety in my gut, jealousy and worry spinning together until the tangle is hard to see as two separate strands. I’ll always miss the adrenaline rush of deployment. Nothing I’ve done since leaving the SEAL teams has even come close.
But he’s my baby brother, so I also don’t want him flying sorties over Iraq and Syria.
Of course, someone has to, and Will’s one of the best.
I got yanked out of the service before I was ready. Doesn’t mean I should deprive my brother of the same privilege to serve his country. I clap him on the shoulder. “Be safe.”
“Always am.”
Our moment is interrupted by a discreet cough from a familiar blonde in a dark suit. I don’t miss Will checking out Alicia, and neither does she.
“Gentleman, if you’ll follow me.” She introduces herself to Will, and explains to me that Jeff had her fly to the area for a few days. We head through an open-concept computer lab to a room with blacked out windows. She presses a button on the table, which initiates a video call, and then excuses herself.
Will watches her go. It’s a good view, but I don’t have an appetite for cool and aloof these days.
When I took Ali home the other night, I gave her my number—in case she found herself out late again, I told her. Good excuse, anyway.
She used it the next morning to text me a selfie of her leaving for class and it made me smile for an hour. Wavy golden brown hair spilling out of a hoodie, a teasing wink…that’s what does it for me now.
I just need to find a way to reconcile that with feeling like she’s still off-limits.
But that would have to wait until after our mysterious summons, because the video call was flickering to life.
When the picture crystallized, though, it wasn’t a call, exactly. It was a secure observation feed of a boardroom. It took a minute, and Will recognized it before me—fair enough, since I’d only been in it once before.
“That’s the Mayfair boardroom in New York,” he muttered beside me.
And it looked like the board meeting was about to begin. I didn’t recognize everyone around the table, but could infer they were the board members. Our mother, chairwoman of the company, sat at the far end. Which meant that our video feed was coming from somewhere right in front of Jeff, probably.
What the hell was our brother up to?
The meeting started out totally boring. If we weren’t scanning the video feed, looking for any tiny clue as to why we were quietly linked in to this meeting, what we were supposed to see, I’d probably have nodded off.
Previous minutes accepted.
Order of business approved.
Sales reports acknowledged and infrastructure spending debated.
Snore, snore, snore.
“The next item on the agenda is the matter of taking Mayfair Enterprises public…” Jeff said, the disembodied voice behind the secret camera.
What?
Our father’s will was set up in such a way that while Will and I both inherited shares of Mayfair Enterprises, we don’t get to vote with them unless we’re full-time employees of the company. By proxy, our mother controls them. Which I’ve never cared about before, but what would happen if the company went public?
At the far end of the boardroom, Mother didn’t look pleased. She also didn’t say anything.