Page 106 of A Cold Hard Truth

“What do you know about that?”

“More questions.” Rhys tsked. “If you think I don’t know everything about you and your family and your upbringing and what boards you sit on, even as a silent partner…”

“Alright,” Remington cut him off. “Does Sebastian know all of it now?”

“Now? Like he didn’t before? Are you lying to my brother, Remington?” Rhys asked.

“No,” he answered honestly. His background and financial standing hadn’t come up in conversation and he liked it that way. He was more than the Dockery name and Dockery money, much like Sebastian was far more than the St. George collar would ever allow him to be. The only difference was Remington had gotten away from it. Sebastian hadn’t.

“If you can’t book something commercial I can send a private plane,” Rhys said, clearly going back to his earlier train of thought. “I know it’s short notice since you need to be here before ten tomorrow night.”

“I have a job, you know.”

“Right. With that PhD in Library Sciences from the University of Chicago and Lead Archivist at the California Museum of Literary Arts. Iknow,Remington. But honestly, isn’t my brother worth a day of PTO?”

“He’s worth more than that,” Remington whispered.

“I know.”

“Do you?” Remington grabbed his glasses and put them back on, blinking the dark shapes of his room into focus. “Because you don’t act like it.”

“I had this conversation already with my brother.” Rhys sighed, sounding tired. “I don’t even recall the last time I did something for myself, if you must know.”

“Why do I have to come up there?” Remington asked. “What does Sebastian need that he can’t ask for himself?”

Rhys laughed. “A thousand things, I’m sure. But most urgently…you.”

“Why?”

“How’s Callahan?” Rhys asked, changing the subject again.

“None of your business, I’d presume,” Remington answered.

“Rightly so. Anyway, this has been a delight, but I’m tired. My jet will be ready to take off at six tomorrow night, so you can work and then come handle my brother.”

The call ended, screen illuminating the darkness of his room and beeping into his ear. Remington dropped his phone onto the empty pillow beside him and slid down, rolling onto his side and staring at the void space in his bed. He wanted Sebastian there, and he’d do what was necessary, but he hated Rhys St. George was the one to set that in motion.

He took off his glasses…again, and with a long, slow blink, fell asleep.

Less than half a day later, Remington found himself on a ridiculously well-appointed jet on his way to Mallardsville with a glass of Mallory Vineyard Chardonnay in his hand. The plane crested over the clouds, and Remington peered out the window, watching the sun slip below the horizon, giving way to the twinkling stars above him.

He hadn’t let Sebastian know he was coming. He’d tried, finally calling the number he’d been avoiding for half a week, but it went to voicemail after the first ring. He’d let Jace know before he left for work in the morning, and waking up with his best friend back in the house had left him in a bit of a better mood than before.

But as the plane made haste to Mallardsville, Remington wondered if he’d made the right decision to come. He didn’t necessarily trust Rhys, but he found it impossible to believe that Rhys would be setting either of them up for something to go wrong. He had to assume that Sebastian did or would really need him.

They landed and Remington was met with a town car and a driver named Gene who whisked him into the heart of the city. Gene promised to take his bags to the St. George estate, which Remington wanted to object to, but it wasn’t like he had somewhere better to go.

Remington watched the high rise buildings zip by, his apprehension deepening until Gene pulled up to a stop at a building that looked to be the front for an extremely posh bar and restaurant. He climbed out of the car with a deep breath, shoulders turning tight when Rhys stepped onto the sidewalk, smoothing a hand down his already flat pressed tie.

“Good to see you again,” Rhys greeted him, stepping toward the curb.

“I wish I could say the same.”

“That’s what they all say.” Rhys answered him with a soft and self-deprecating laugh.

“Where is Sebastian?”

“Inside with his ex.”