“Thanks.” I stand.
“You could always ask Corrinna. I’m sure she’d be more than agreeable to sitting down, one to one, to discuss it.”
I bark out a laugh. “Yeah. Thanks, but no thanks.” I walk toward the door.
“Say hello to Demi for me,” he calls out, and I flip him the bird over my shoulder.
His loud laughter follows me out into the corridor.
Demi isn’t at her desk when I return, so I close my office door and spend a half hour reflecting on everything as an idea grows wings. I make a quick phone call, and then, I grab my keys and head out.
Demi is tapping away on her keyboard when I appear in front of her. “I have to go out.”
She frowns, glancing at the clock on the wall. “What, now?”
I nod. “Yep. I’ll be back later.”
“But what about your four o’clock with Simon Reed?”
Damn. I’d forgotten that was today, but this is more urgent. Mr. Reed can wait. “Reschedule it.”
“But—”
“No buts, Ms. Alexander. Handle it.”
She narrows her eyes at me, and her lips thin, and I silently fist pump the air. I’ll take her annoyance over sadness any day.
I walk into the plush, modern high-rise across town, approach the reception desk, and ask for Xavier Daniels.
Xavier is Abby’s best friend and a tech nerd genius. He graduated from Rydeville University last May top of his class, walking straight into a job with Techxet, the company owned by Sawyer Hunt’s father. Sawyer Hunt is Kaiden Anderson’s best friend, along with Jackson Lauder.
Techxet recently established a new branch in Boston and Xavier was one of the first employees recruited. I’ve no clue what exactly he does, as I was already estranged from my crew by then, but knowing how skilled he is, I’m betting it’s a prestigious position.
Xavier emerges from an elevator on my left a few minutes later, walking toward me with a shit-eating grin on his mouth. He’s wearing ripped, black skinny jeans, scuffed boots with the laces unopened, and a crumpled AC/DC T-shirt that looks like it hasn’t seen a washing machine in a few centuries.
“Well, well,” he says, halting in front of me. “If it isn’t the illustrious Charlie Barron.”
I stand. “I’d say you’re looking good, but it’s best not to start this conversation with a lie.” I purposely give him a quick once-over. “They let you dress like that at work?”
He lifts his shoulder, motioning me to walk with him. “Look around,” he says as we head toward the elevator he just got out of. “Everyone dresses casually. There is no dress code around here except come as you are.”
“Sounds like your kind of place,” I mock as we step into the elevator.
“It is.” He grins, winking as he stabs the button for the top floor. He eyes my fitted charcoal-gray suit with unconcealed disdain. “If I had to dress like that every day, I’d slit my wrists.”
“Wow. Tell me how you really feel.”
The elevator pings, and we step out into a large, open-plan office with floor-to-ceiling windows on three sides. I whistle under my breath. “This is all yours?”
“You likey?” He guides me over to two large gamer chairs resting off to one side of the space.
“It’s very you,” I say, removing my jacket and rolling up the sleeves of my shirt. “It looks like a paint can exploded in here or you let your inner graffiti artist loose.”
Strips of vibrant colors decorate the walls in a haphazard fashion. Like someone stood in front of the wall and threw pots of paint at it. The floors are natural hardwood floors, unstained and marked with scratches and dents giving it a lived-in feel even though this building is a relatively new build. All the furniture is eclectic and unmatching. But it works.
“I think that’s a compliment,” Xavier drawls, popping a can of soda and handing it to me.
“It is. I like it. It’s got personality.”
Xavier positively beams as he opens another soda. “I designed it myself. Abby helped.” He chuckles to himself. “Hunt almost had a coronary when he saw it. It offends his delicate sensibilities.”
I smirk, remembering the dynamic between those two. “You tapping that yet?”
Xavier grins. “A gentleman never tells.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
He waggles his brows, slurping noisily from his soda. “Enjoyable as this is, I doubt you came here to discuss my flamboyant sex life.”
“I need a favor, and I was hoping you still took on private paid jobs.”
“When I have time,” he adds, losing the smirk and pinning me with an earnest look. “And I’ve got to say, I’m surprised you sought me out.”
“You’re the best, and I trust you to keep this confidential,” I say, removing the envelope from my inside jacket pocket. It’s why I didn’t ask anyone in the IT department at the bank to investigate. I don’t want anyone in the company knowing I’m digging into this.
“I haven’t agreed to shit,” he supplies, crossing one leg over the other.
“You’ll be handsomely rewarded for your time.”
“Money has never been my greatest motivator.”
I level him with a dry look. “What will it take for you to do this?”
“Say please.” I stare at him, and he laughs, smoothing his fingers along the taut peaks of his faux hawk. It’s green today, but Xavier changes his hair color as often as the weather. “I’m serious.”
“Still fucking weird,” I mumble, sighing. I claw my hands through my hair. “Fine. Please can you investigate this for me.”
He reaches out, snatching the envelope from me. “That wasn’t so hard.”
I flip him the bird while he’s hunched over.
“Talk me through it.”
“Henry Alexander is an ex-employee of my father’s. He was exited in a hurry just after he’d had a stroke. It wasn’t like my father to treat a loyal employee so callously. I’d like to know if there is more to it.”
He lifts his head. “Why do you care?”
I wet my dry lips. “His daughter works for me, and I sense something has happened. I’d like to understand what’s going on, to know if I need to revisit his case. If we should’ve done more.”
He places the documents on his lap, leans back, and stares at me. “I’ll do it—on one condition.” I wait for him to continue. “You come to dinner on Sunday. It would mean the world to Abby.”
“You two gossip like a couple of old women,” I grumble.
He shrugs. “We tell each other everything, and she’d be delighted you came to me today.”
“You can’t tell her or anyone.”
He begins rummaging through the paperwork again. “I never divulge details of the stuff I’m working on. My reputation rests on my discretion.”
My shoulders relax. “Fine. I’ll come to dinner.”
His eyes pop wide as he pulls out the photo of Demi. I slide my suddenly sweaty palms over my thighs, waiting for his reaction.
“Shit.” He brings the picture closer, examining it in more detail. “Abby wasn’t kidding. They are so incredibly alike.”