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.