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“Right.” Haylee followed him toward the baggage claim and crossed her arms, staring as luggage went by on the belt. But the longer she waited, the less patience she had. “I’m sorry, but what’re you doing here? I know Cherish invited you to the gala, but you weren’t able to make it. So why now?”
Stuart sent her a brilliant smile, his face lighting up in a way Haylee envied. The last few weeks had been torture with Cherish, and yet this man seemed to embody all the joy that Cherish denied herself. “I hear you’ve been having some problems with my sister.”
“I… what?” Haylee frowned.
“Hold on, this is mine.” Stuart grabbed his bag and then put his hand on the small of Haylee’s back. “Let’s find somewhere to sit down for a minute.”
“Well, I’m here to pick up someone else, too.” Haylee pointed back to where she’d found him. “I should probably wait over there.”
“Sure.” Stuart guided her in that direction, and they found a place to stand. He put his bag on the ground and shoved his hands into his pockets, rolling up onto his toes, and staying absolutely silent.
Well, now this just got awkward.
Normally Haylee would whip out her phone and text Cherish, but something had been off in the office when she left, and she and Cherish still weren’t on the best of terms. Maybe that was it. With the shot in her system and the bad migraines, had Cherish been told not to drive and Febe had sent Haylee on this errand?
“Are you here because Cherish has been so sick lately?” Haylee rolled her shoulders, looking up into Stuart’s blue eyes, eyes that were the exact same color as Cherish’s.
“She’s been sick?” Concern filled his features.
“With the migraines?” Haylee said it like a question, not quite sure if she was supposed to share this information or not. Cherish was an extremely private person. She might not have told him.
“Oh! Those. No. Cherry’s always had bad migraines, ever since she was a kid.” He rocked back on his heels. “Here he is.”
Haylee jerked her chin up, confused. But when she turned to look in the direction that Stuart was looking, she melted. Squealing loudly, Haylee dropped the paper in her hand and ran full force into her brother’s arms. She jumped up, and he caught her, and she hugged him tight.
Fuck, she’d needed him.
When he let her go and her feet were back on the floor, Haylee punched him in the shoulder hard. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I see Stuart hasn’t spilled the beans yet.” Jackson looked over Haylee’s shoulder to the man behind her, stepping around her and holding out his hand. “Good to meet you in person, man. Finally.”
“Yes, sir.” They gave a familiar handshake before stepping back.
“I’ve got my bag here, so we can go.”
“Go?” Haylee interrupted, her eyes wide. “Where the hell are we going? What’s going on?”
Jackson grinned. “Oh, baby sisters can never handle pranks, can they?”
Stuart snorted with a laugh. “Never.”
Jackson wrapped his arm around Haylee’s shoulder and dragged her into his side in a half hug. “Let’s go get lunch. I’m hungry, aren’t you?”
“Wait a damn minute!” Haylee put a hand on Jackson’s chest and pushed him back so she could look him directly in the eye. “What are you two doing here?”
“Lunch, Haylee.” Jackson started walking out. “We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
Haylee was half tempted to take them to McDonald’s instead of a sit-down place. She kind of wanted to be an ass for not getting answers when she asked for them.
“Just give it a few more minutes until we sit down and eat. I haven’t eaten all day,” Jackson said softer. “Nothing bad is happening. I promise. It’s all good.”
Haylee gave in because she didn’t feel as though she had another choice. She needed to know what the hell the two of them, of all people, were doing there. The car ride was stilted. Jackson and Stuart talked back and forth, catching up as if they were old friends, and Haylee guided them through traffic, no longer worried about denting Febe’s car.
As soon as they were seated in the restaurant, Haylee pinned Jackson with a firm look. “Talk. Now. My patience—what little I have—is gone.”
Jackson sighed and rubbed his hand through his hair. “We’re here to tell you that you’re an idiot.”
Stuart slid Jackson a sharp look. “I think there’s a nicer way to say that.”
