Page 104 of The Revenge Agenda

I huff and retrace my steps to pop my head back into Ted’s office.

They’re both sitting there.

“Are you coming?” I ask Hunter.

He glances between me and Ted before a smile creeps over his handsome face.

He shrugs Ted’s way. “Ah … I love you?”

“We can finish this conversation tomorrow,” Ted says. Hunter’s out of his seat in a flash, and Ted calls after us, “But I will expect an explanation.”

“Where are we going?” Hunter asks, trailing me.

“To the future!” I throw my arm around his shoulders. “We’re getting our revenge.”

Chapter 31

Hunter

Savant Realty is on the corner, a large black and glass office that attempts to intimidate the street traffic below. They’re the type of place that has billboards all over the city, Ian’s face dominating a decent number of them, and at one point, I’d felt right at home attending their events with Ian.

Now, I wonder how many of his work friends knew about the other men as they smiled and shook my hand.

“I don’t know what this is going to achieve,” I say.

Rush’s idea is a crapshoot at best. Yes, Ian had issues with his boss not wanting to promote him, but that doesn’t mean anything.

“I struggled to get a promotion too,” I mutter to Rush. “It doesn’t mean it’s anything personal. Sometimes there are just no positions.”

A scowl crosses Rush’s face. “He also told me he couldn’t get a promotion because his boss hated how scattery he is. He made out like he was being left behind because he had ADHD. Sure, he never actually said the words, but it was always ‘we’re the same’ and ‘I know exactly how you feel’ and ‘you’re so lucky to have a boss who understands.’”

“That does sound bad.”

“He played me, and it sounds like he played you. He knew exactly what to say so we’d feel comfortable with him. Well, screw that. If his boss wouldn’t promote him, there was a reason, and I doubt it’s the same reason he gave either of us. Statistically, it’s impossible. And besides, we have no other choice. So we might as well try this.”

I let out a loud exhale and get the door for him. “After you.”

And with all the confidence of a bull charging a red flag, Rush walks on in.

The foyer is large and glass, gleaming black desk bang in the middle, guarding the entrance to the halls behind. There are two receptionists: one woman on a Bluetooth headset and a man smiling toothily at us.

“Welcome to Savant Reality. What can I do for you?”

“We’re here to see Davis Shore.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No.” Rush presses his palms to the desk. “But he’ll meet with us if he knows what’s good for him.”

Yikes. I hurry to step in and pull Rush back. “If he can,” I correct. “We appreciate he’s a very busy man.”

The guy drops his politeness. “He’s booked out for weeks, sorry.”

“It’s five minutes.”

“Sure. I can book you five minutes.”

Rush perks up. “Really?”

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