The server nodded, moved to the bar where another server waited, and then returned a few seconds later with two opened, chilled bottles of a German beer I’d never heard of.

“Jesus.” Rhys took a drink and then glanced down at me. “Ready?”

I wasn’t the one Fairchild was intent on annoying the hell out of. “Am I ready? Are you?”

“Morgan, there you are!” Fairchild’s voice rang across the room.

Rhys gave me a tight smile. “Ready as I’ll ever fucking be.”

I squeezed his hand to let him know I had his back, and we both exhaled before turning toward Fairchild.

Smiling hello at my colleagues as we strolled into the center of the room, I wondered why only me, Jackson, Michael, Xander, and Evan and our respective partners had been invited.

Hadn’t Fairchild said that attendance by everyone in the company was mandatory? No wonder Pete was extra rude toward me that week. Anytime we’d crossed paths, he’d pretended I didn’t exist.

Charming, charming man.

As for Fairchild … ugh, what a liar. He couldn’t have made his real agenda any more obvious, and he was completely unconcerned about being obvious. Which was probably why Jackson looked like he was sucking on a lemon.

Poor Jackson. He loved Horus Renewable Energy. It must have caused him no end of frustration to have to rely on financial investment from someone like Franklin Fairchild.

Fairchild was grinning, a devious twinkle in his eye, that made me suspicious. “Morgan, I have something to show everyone that I think you’re going to love.” He turned to my colleagues. “Grab your drinks, leave them, whatever you like—there is a bar in the theater. Let us proceed.” He strode toward Rhys and slid an arm around his shoulders. “This way, son.”

My … well … whatever he was now glanced over his shoulder as Fairchild led him across the room. I would’ve felt guilty for letting go of his hand if Rhys hadn’t given me a reassuring nod.

He was a big guy. He could take care of himself.

So why did I feel like I was failing him when I should be trying to protect him from Fairchild?

“Come on, Parker,” Jackson said, his voice gentle. I looked up to see him and Camille at my side, twin expressions of concern on their faces. “It’ll be all right.”

I frowned. “You know what he’s attempting to do?”

Jackson cut Camille a look before turning back to me. He lowered his voice as the rest of my colleagues followed the big boss out of the melodramatic living room. “I’m not sure exactly but it’s obvious this is all about Rhys.”

Nodding, I sighed. “I’m sorry. We both are.” I shouldn’t have apologized for Rhys, but I knew him well enough to know that he was most likely pissed off that Fairchild had pulled my colleagues into this ridiculousness.

“Why are you apologizing?” Jackson frowned, staring toward the now-empty doorway. “I’m the one who introduced you both to him.”

Camille squeezed Jackson’s shoulder and whispered, “Honey.”

Realizing my observations had been right, that Jackson was struggling with Fairchild, I wished there was something I could do. However, Rhys had to take priority. Once I was sure I had him out of Fairchild’s reach for good, I could turn my concentration to figuring out how to help free Horus Renewable Energy from an egomaniacal billionaire.

One of the servers had to direct us to the theater since we’d lost track of everyone. When we stepped inside, I shouldn’t have been surprised to discover it was an actual movie theater. There was an expensive, mahogany-topped bar with brass tap handles and rows of glass shelves behind it filled with every alcohol imaginable. At the opposite end of the room was a screen that took up the entire wall, with rows of real cinema chairs situated in front of it. A discreet projector was built into the ceiling.

Rhys stood at the bar with Jackson, and I decided I was done being pushed aside by Fairchild while he attempted to convince Rhys to fight. Striding toward them, I saw my boss’s boss narrow his eyes on me, but I remained undeterred.

“Hey,” I said softly to Rhys as I nestled into his side and wrapped an arm around his waist.

He gave me a soft look before sliding his arm around my shoulders to draw me even closer.

His familiar scent, earth and spice, made me wish I could just haul him out of that room and back to the guest bedroom. Butterflies tickled my belly at the thought of finally being with him in all the ways I’d tried (and failed) to convince myself I didn’t want.

The hard heat of him pressed against me wasn’t helping my wayward thoughts.

Forcing myself to concentrate on the task at hand, I met Fairchild’s annoyed gaze. “So … what are we watching?”

“It’s a surprise. Come, Rhys, let’s take a seat.” Fairchild cut me a dismissive look. “Why don’t you sit with the others, Ms. Brown?”