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“Where are we?” I ask, turning the car off and eyeing the small office building.
“A-Squared Enterprises,” Knox answers. “The company Addie and Angel, her mom, started. Despite what you think you know about her, Addie is a respected antiquities expert.”
I don’t comment, and I don’t doubt Addison Mills in the least. Quite the opposite, in fact. I think she’s a brilliant, extremely crafty businesswoman. I’m just not sure if I can trust her or her crew.
It’s a little after six o’clock and the parking lot is nearly empty, so I assume most people have gone home for the day. Knox guides me into the building, down the hallway and opens a door with the sign “A-Squared Enterprises.”
A group of people sit at a table, and a woman with dark, golden-blonde hair stands up. “Welcome back, Knox,” she says. She gives him a quick hug then sends me a big smile. “You must be Hunter. Ryland told me all about you. I’m Addison, but please call me Addie.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” I say, immediately liking the other woman’s vibes. She’s welcoming, friendly and her cobalt-blue eyes are full of intelligence. I can easily see myself being friends with someone like her. Plus, if she’s anything like her brother, I know I’m going to love her.
“This is the crew,” Addie states with a sweep of her manicured hand. “Brighton Leroux, Ryder McKay, Lincoln Decker, and, of course, you’ve had quite a bit of time to get to know Knox.”
She’s looking from me to Knox, her blue eyes glowing mischievously, and I shift uneasily.
“I take it you had a good trip back?” she asks him.
“Things got a bit sticky, but Hunter came to my rescue.” Knox sends me a panty-melting smile.
Addie nods as we move to sit down. “Thank you, Hunter. You’re a lifesaver.”
I don’t miss the way Knox places his hand on my lower back and guides me around the table to two empty seats next to each other. He pulls my chair out and I sit, glancing around at the others.
“I hope Knox didn’t get you into too much trouble,” Brighton says. “He seems to attract it.”
“Oh, and you don’t?” Knox fires back with a grin.
Their interaction is friendly, a little flirty, but I get the impression they’re merely friends. Although, I’m not sure how Knox can resist the woman. Brighton Leroux must be one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. She has a presence that demands attention, and with her stunning green eyes and ebony hair, she’s a knockout. Her poise and classic beauty remind me of the Hollywood starlets from a bygone era, a cross between Vivian Leigh and Hedy Lamarr.
“I did notice that,” I remark dryly, and everyone laughs.
“That’s not all he attracts,” the big man beside Brighton comments drolly. Cropped brown hair, dark eyes and, if I had to guess, a wickedly dry sense of humor. “You can call me Linc or Deck or whatever the hell you want. I respond to pretty much anything.”
“I like to call him asshole,” the man on my opposite side says, and Linc flips him off. He extends his hand. “Nice to meet you, Hunter. I’m Ryder, our gems and tech expert.”
He has a twinkle in his chocolate-brown eyes and keeps looking back and forth between me and Knox. I shift in my seat, growing uncomfortable under everyone’s scrutiny.
“Alright, now that the introductions are done, what the hell’s going on?” Knox asks, turning the conversation to business. “You’re sure the emerald is a fake?”
“Fake as a dollar store diamond,” Ryder states.
At the head of the table, Addie lifts her hand and my eyes go wide at the fist-sized emerald resting on her palm. She tossesit and it slides across the table, landing in front of me. Knox reaches for the green gem, lifts it up and examines it.
“It’s a damn good fake,” he comments and hands it to me.
“You’re absolutely sure?” I ask, turning it this way and that, admiring the way it sparkles beneath the light. Ryder scoffs and I look up.
“Here we go,” Linc murmurs under his breath. “How to Spot an Emerald 101.”
Knox chuckles and Ryder launches into what I’m gathering is a well-practiced spiel. “What you’re holding is known as YAG. It stands for Yttrium Aluminum Garnet. It’s a synthetic stone, man-made in a lab, which means it’s clean and free of inclusions. Aside from its green color, a natural emerald will always have a myriad of inclusions, often referred to as jardin. These natural imperfections are part of what makes emeralds so distinct. They also tell you where in the world it was mined.”
I raise a brow. “Really?”
“And she’s encouraging him,” Linc mutters, but I ignore him, and nod at Ryder to continue.
“Yes. For example, an emerald from Siberia will have needle-like inclusions. In Pakistan, you get two-phase inclusions, which is a really cool phenomenon.”
Knox pretends to snore, and I elbow him.