Page 18 of Out of the Shadows

“When I was with the McClintocks earlier, Edward and I briefly talked about the event this Saturday night.” Xander glanced at Gavin. “You’re going, right?”

“Their family charity thing?” Gavin asked.

Xander nodded. “Edward said he’s going to call you about it. He has a colleague who’ll be there who’s interested in retaining Hudson.”

“Pretty sure it’s on my calendar,” Gavin said. He hated events like these. While he appreciated that these types of events raised money for various charities, they always came across as pretentious. The people who attended and donated heavily had more money than God. Couldn’t they just write acheck and call it done? Why spend tens of thousands of dollars on a fancy venue and catering? Oh, that’s right. Because those same people who donated needed the look-at-me! affirmation of knowing they were better than everyone else.

Jaded and cynical? Absolutely. But was he wrong? Not at all.

“You have to bring a plus-one, though,” Xander said.

He frowned. “Why?”

Xander sighed and pushed his empty plate to the side. “Because for obvious reasons, Edward and Rita won’t be attending anymore. Edward’s sister runs the family’s charity and wants you and your guest at the family table in place of Edward and Rita.”

Gavin’s lips pressed together. “Still not seeing why I need a plus-one.”

Xander rolled his eyes. “Because the sister wants even numbers at the tables.”

He blinked. Twice. “You’re kidding.”

“Wish I was, brother. Wish I was.” Xander’s mouth scrunched as if he’d bitten into something sour. “Constance—the sister—came to the hospital and threw a damn hissy fit when she heard Edward and Rita weren’t going.”

Bean’s jaw dropped. “Their kid’s in thehospital. Of course they aren’t going to a freaking party.”

“Right?” Xander shook his head.

Her face scrunched. “Well, I’m not exactly surprised. Even though Constance Whitcomb is Edward’s sister, she’s also the society trophy wife of old Seattle money Roger Whitcomb who’s twice her age. On top of that, she has a reputation of sleeping with her staff, firing them, and then threatening to sue them.”

It was Gavin’s turn to have his jaw drop. “How do you know that?”

“It’s amazing what you can find when you dive deep enough.” Bean shrugged. “When Anson was kidnapped, you wanted me to do a deep dive into all of McClintock’s associates. Not only is she Edward’s sister, but she’s the president of the family’s foundation and basically the definition of ick.”

“Well, she’s also batshit nuts,” Xander said, tilting back in his chair. “She wouldn’t shut the fuck up—and I’m talking screaming in a goddamn pediatric hospital—until Edward agreed to have you and your guest at their table.”

Gavin’s mouth hung open. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Agreed. However, Constance made sure to tell me to tell you that she is looking forward to seeing you. She specifically wanted me to mention that she’s seating you right next to her.” Xander shuddered. “Aside from the colleague who wants to meet you, I think Edward’s going to offer to pay you to go to the event too. Generally, I’d recommend that it wouldn’t be necessary, but...” He made a face. “If you’re seated next to that woman, I’d ask him for hazard pay.”

“I’ll take your recommendation under advisement.” Gavin chuckled and lifted his chin at Bean. “Want to go on Saturday?”

She snorted. “Negative, boss man. That’s Esme’s thing. She’s much better at playing nice. As an extra bonus, she can also be your personal security for the night and protect you from Constance. Besides”—a look of disgust crossed her face—“I’m liable to dump a glass of wine over that batshit woman’s head on principle.”

“Good point,” Gavin said with a forced smile.

“But you better start sucking up to Esme ASAP, or she’ll ditch you and make you fend for yourself with that woman.”

“Ha ha,” Gavin replied, deadpan.

Damn. What the hell had he been thinking asking B to go with him?

He always took Esme to these types of events. His director of logistics was a former CIA operative and had the uncanny ability to spot a fraud from across a crowded room. She could also schmooze with the best of them. So why the hell did he think bringing B would make the event more enjoyable, more fun?

It’s aworkevent, Frazier, not a goddamn social hour.

He shook his head at his lapse, but not before he caught Xander’s smirk.

CHAPTER SEVEN

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