Chapter Fourteen
Hunter
Matt dropped the phone, leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, and drew a breath that was long and deep and barely audible over the blood pounding in my ears. Our business was poised, the balance as delicate as a high-wire act, and that phone call he’d just taken was either the wrecking ball or the foundation for our future.
“Come on, Matt. Yes, or no?”
He drew another breath—drama queen—but when he rubbed his mouth his hand concealed the glimmer of a smile.
“How much do you want it?” he asked.
“You know how much I want it.” I wasn’t sure if he was talking about Saylor or the Flexecutive refinancing.
“I do. I just hope you know that if you hurt her I’ll come after you, and spread your body parts across thirty states.”
“We got the backing?”
“We did.”
I stood. “I’ll get the whiskey.”
We were in the Aspen house. I’d never left the area because if the weather forecast was accurate, I wouldn’t have made it back for Christmas Day and Saylor’s ceremony. Matt flew in to join me so that we could work on refinancing for the business. I think he also wanted to make all of his brotherly threats regarding my relationship with Saylor face-to-face.
It had been a tough twenty-four hours, and I felt like a total prick for packing up her stuff and sending it to the hotel, but I had a plan, and I only had a short amount of time to get everyone on board with it. I was also confident that Casey and Dani would take care of Saylor for me while I worked on Matt.
Gerard was not subtle as he tried to convince me that Rex would marry Saylor, come what may. He started out by calling on family loyalty, which was a joke. His wife and my mother might be sisters, but there was little love lost between them. I was certain it was my uncle, rather than Rex, who had stepped in and had us followed, but I didn’t want to spook Saylor with that news. I wanted her to push through this tumultuous time, do what she felt was necessary to regain her self-worth, and then I’d work on the ‘us’ I was certain we both believed in.
I poured a second round of scotch and capped the bottle. “Last drink for the night,” I said, tipping my glass towards Matt. “I need to have my wits about me tomorrow.”
Matt flicked the bottle with his forefinger. “You might need the rest of this tomorrow night to drown your sorrows.”
“Don’t count on it.”
Matt grinned. “I cannot wait to see her face.”
Neither could I.
Apparently, Saylor didn’t have a say in the matter.