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“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head at herself, clearly embarrassed by her reaction, no matter how ridiculous that was.
“I knocked and called before I came in,” I assured her, not wanting her to think I was overstepping, further treading on her right to privacy.
“Really?” she asked, brows drawing together. “I never sleep that soundly. I mean, I sleep deeply. But a knock would normally wake me up.”
“You’ve had a rough couple of days, babe. You’re not yourself right now.”
She nodded a bit at that, accepting the truth. “What time is it? Is the meeting now?”
“It’s about seven. And yes. That’s why I came to get you. All the guys are ready.” A shadow crossed over her face, and I watched as her body went more and more tense. “Hey, this is just about the facts we have collected, and what they could mean. In the interest of full disclosure, yes, I had one of the guys run a file on you. But he will not be airing your dirty laundry out in front of everyone. What?” I asked when she snorted, and, if I wasn’t mistaken, rolled her eyes at me.
“I have no dirty laundry to air out. I have a boring little life. Well, I did.”
“Even if you didn’t, don’t worry. This isn’t about attacking you. We just need to make sure none of this ties back to anything in your past. It is not personal. Even if it feels like it,” I added, giving her a small smile, knowing what it felt like to be in her position. Because one of the tasks my men had to complete before I brought them on was to work up a file on me, dig up all my admittedly substantial dirt, get every little piece of information on me as possible. It was never comfortable to hear someone tell you all the women you had slept with, which ones you dated more seriously, and what ones you only had one night. It was unsettling to hear stories from your childhood brought to light, events you had all but forgotten had taken place.
I got it.
But this was necessary.
“Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s get this step over with,” she agreed, putting her feet on the floor, slipping them into the flats Jules had given her.
“The food should be here too,” I told her as we were halfway down the hall, and I could make out the grumbling of her empty stomach.
I led her down into the office, holding the door open for her, letting her move in first.
She did.
But as all the eyes turned to her, she went back a step, slamming into my chest, and not making a move to step away again.
I guess if you weren’t used to them, they could be an intimidating bunch, especially when facing all of them at once in work-mode.
“It’s okay,” I told her, lips down by her ear, my finger pressing into her hip reassuringly. “They are all here to help,” I assured her. “Guys, this is Aven. Aven, you’ve already met Kai and Finn,” I reminded her, wanting her to find a little comfort in the room.
“Hey pretty lady,” Kai greeted, giving her one of his open smiles.
“I hope you like the new carpet.” That was Finn, one who had never been exactly good at social graces. But because I knew him, I knew he actually meant that genuinely. He truly hoped she liked the carpet. He likely even picked out a super plush, more expensive replacement just because he wanted her to like it.
“And then these guys are Smith and Lincoln,” I introduced her to them, glad when they gave her reassuring smiles even though they weren’t exactly the type of men prone to smiling.
Jules had brought in extra fold-up chairs while I was gone, along with a pop-up table covered in the bags of food, bottles of drinks, and plates and cutlery.
Raise.
She needed one.
“Alright,” she said, breezing in on those stilts of hers. It didn’t matter how long her shift was, she never took the damn things off. “I am scooping out. Place your orders,” she told the room, going over to the table to do what she said. “Aven, have a seat. One of the comfortable ones,” she added with a pointed look to the team. “These brutes can deal with a sore ass. You’ve had a rough enough day.”
With that, everyone got their food, putting their drinks at their feet, their plates balanced on one leg so they could open their files on the other. Like we had done countless times since we had opened.
I needed to tell Jules to add TV dinner stands to her shopping list.
“Alright, lay it out. Kai, you first. Rip off the band-aid. I know she’s sweating you the most.”
“Me? Innocent me?” Kai asked, pretending to look shocked. Innocent was not a word one would use to describe him, but he got a small smile out of Aven regardless. “Right. Anyway. You are Aven Alicia Armstrong. Nice alliteration. You grew up out in San Fran with your mom and dad. You were happy, it seemed. Good at school. Then your dad died when you were twelve, and mom remarried within two years to a dude who, well, let’s just say he’s a jackass, shall we?” he asked, waiting for a response.
