"That was different! Your rendition of 'Total Eclipse of the Heart' deserved a wider audience."
I groan. "I was drunk."
"You were magnificent," she corrects, squeezing my hand before releasing it as we approach the HQ building. "And I have video evidence."
"Delete that immediately."
"Never. It's my insurance policy for when you get too CEO-ish."
I shake my head, unable to keep from smiling. This is what I've always loved about Sloane, her ability to tease without malice, to see the person beneath the position.
As we enter the lobby, we're immediately accosted by Jenna, who hurries toward us with worried eyes.
"There you are! I've been trying to reach you for an hour."
"Phone died," Sloane says smoothly. "What's up?"
"Your mother," Jenna says, turning to me. "She's here."
I freeze. "Here? As in Hope Peak?"
"As in sitting in your office right now, with Marcus trying desperately to entertain her."
Cold dread washes over me. "She's not supposed to arrive until the twentieth."
"Apparently she decided to come early. Something about 'scoping out the venue' for the gala." Jenna's eyes flick between Sloane and me, noting our matching expressions of alarm. "She's been asking about you, Sloane. Rather specifically."
I glance at Sloane, finding my own concern mirrored in her eyes. After last night, facing my mother's scrutiny is the last thing either of us needs.
"Right," I say, straightening my shoulders. "I'll handle this."
"We'll handle this," Sloane corrects, smoothing her hair. "If your mother's asking for me, I should probably make an appearance."
"You don't have to...”
"Atticus." She fixes me with a look I know better than to argue with. "I've met Vivienne before. She doesn't scare me."
That makes one of us. My mother has reduced many CEOs to stammering wrecks with nothing more than an arched eyebrow.
"Fine," I concede. "But let me do the talking."
Sloane's laugh follows me as we head toward the elevator. "When have I ever let you do all the talking?"
The ride to the executive floor is brief but tense. I can feel Sloane fidgeting beside me, her usual confidence wavering slightly at the prospect of facing my mother after spending the night with her son. I reach for her hand, giving it a quick, reassuring squeeze before the doors open.
"You look beautiful," I murmur. "And she already likes you more than most of my colleagues."
"High bar," she whispers back, but her shoulders relax slightly.
We find my mother exactly where Jenna said she'd be, seated regally in my office chair, Marcus hovering nearby with a cup of tea that's clearly gone cold judging by his pained expression.
Vivienne Morgan looks up as we enter, her silver-blonde bob immaculate as always, pearls gleaming at her throat above a tailored navy coat that probably costs more than most Hope Peak residents make in a month.
"Darling, there you are," she says, rising with practiced grace. "I was beginning to think you'd fled the country to avoid me."
"Mother." I cross to kiss her cheek. "This is an unexpected surprise."
"The best kind." Her sharp blue eyes shift past me to Sloane. "Ms. Parker, lovely to see you again. You're looking particularly... vibrant this morning."
