Chapter 61

The next morning, I clutched the bag containing Sean's jacket as I walked into the Pacific Capital building. I needed to get close to him to uncover the truth and determine his connection to Lyra's death and my father's case.

The sleek lobby emanated power and wealth, perfectly matching what I'd researched about Sean's company. I approached the reception desk with deliberate confidence, wearing a black tailored suit dress with my hair falling in loose waves around my shoulders.

When the receptionist politely intercepted me, I stated with calm authority, "Mr. Parker is expecting me. I called earlier. Please confirm with him."

She hesitated briefly before making the call. I maintained my composure, though internally I was mapping out each step of my approach. The storage card I'd lifted from Sean's pocket last night felt like it was burning a hole in my own.

After a brief conversation, the receptionist escorted me to Sean's office.

Upon my entrance, Sean looked up from his desk. "Attorney James," he remarked, his tone tinged with skepticism. "This is unexpected. A jacket hardly seems worth a personal delivery."

I placed the bag on his desk and offered a measured smile. "I owe you an apology for last night. Getting sick on your jacket wasn't my finest moment."

His eyes scrutinized me carefully, and I met his gaze unflinchingly, revealing nothing.

"Perhaps I could thank you over lunch?" I suggested. "My treat, of course."

Sean hesitated, suspicion briefly flickering across his face before he masked it with a polite smile. "Since you're offering, how could I refuse? Besides, you provided that free advice previously."

I glanced at my watch. "It's nearly noon. Shall we go now?"

"Of course," he nodded, reaching for his suit jacket draped over his chair.

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Hunter's POV

I gazed out the window of the private dining room, mentally calculating how much longer I would have to endure this lunch. My aunt Aurora had orchestrated this meeting—disguised as a family meal—to introduce me to the woman sitting across from me, Azalea Gray, in a transparent attempt to end my persistent bachelorhood.

"Excuse me for a moment," Azalea said with a practiced smile. "I need to freshen up."

I nodded politely, turning back to the window as she left. The moment the door closed behind her, Aurora pounced.

"Well?" she leaned forward eagerly. "What do you think of her? Isn't she lovely? You know, her father is the chief financial officer at Meridian Financial."

I deliberately took a slow sip of water. "She's... adequate."

Aurora's expression fell slightly. "Adequate? Is that all you have to say? Hunter, this is the fourth woman I've introduced you to this year. You've given exactly the same assessment of all of them."

"Because they've all been 'adequate,'" I replied, setting down my glass.

My uncle Xander Huxley, who had maintained a tactful silence throughout the meal, finally spoke. "Azalea is considered quite a catch. Three advanced degrees, family connections, and she does charity work."

I suppressed the urge to sigh. On paper, Azalea was indeed qualified—her neat short hair and designer dress made her sufficiently attractive, her conversation intelligent, her family background appropriate. Yet throughout lunch, I couldn't stop comparing her to someone else entirely.

She wasn't as tall as Jane. Her features, while pleasant, lacked the striking quality of Jane's eyes that could shift from warm to icy in an instant. Her figure, though slender, didn't have that perfect proportion that made Jane's professional attire look like a fashion statement.

And her hair—I disliked short hair. I preferred volume and length, something to run my fingers through...

"Hunter?" Aurora's voice pulled me from thoughts I had no business entertaining.

"You're almost thirty-five," she continued, her voice taking on that particular tone mothers reserve for their greatest disappointments. "Are you trying to worry us to death?"

"I appreciate your concern," I replied, maintaining a neutral expression. "But I'm perfectly content with my current situation."

Aurora was about to object further when the door opened and Azalea returned. For the remainder of dessert, I maintained an appropriate level of polite engagement while counting the minutes until I could reasonably depart.

As coffee was served, Xander cleared his throat. "Hunter, perhaps you could tell us what you're looking for in a partner."

I considered deflecting the question but decided a direct approach might finally end these setups. "Very well." I set down my coffee cup. "She should be strikingly beautiful—not just pretty, but the kind of beauty that makes people pause mid-sentence. Intelligent, of course, with quick wit and the ability to challenge me intellectually. Tall, at least 5'7", with an excellent figure. Fair skin, long hair..."

I suddenly realized I was essentially describing Jane in precise detail. The realization was uncomfortable.

"She should be confident without being arrogant, successful in her own right, capable of maintaining her composure in any social situation."

The table fell silent. Aurora and Xander exchanged a look.

"That's... quite specific," Aurora finally said.

Xander laughed, though it held little humor. "With standards like those, you might as well remain single."

"Perhaps that's for the best," I replied, reaching for my wallet to signal the meal's conclusion.

Fifteen minutes later, we stepped out of the restaurant into the clear afternoon light. Something suddenly caught my eye.

Jane stood on the sidewalk, her elegant figure unmistakable even at a distance. She wore a tailored charcoal suit that accentuated her height, her signature waves of hair cascading past her shoulders. But what stopped me cold was the man beside her: Sean Parker.

My entire body tensed. Sean stood too close to her, his hand occasionally brushing her arm as they conversed. Their body language suggested familiarity and comfort.

Jane must have sensed my gaze because she suddenly looked up, her eyes meeting mine across the distance. For a moment, neither of us moved. Then Parker leaned closer to her, saying something that prompted her to break our eye contact.

I could read their lips from where I stood.

"Is that Hunter Huxley?" Parker asked. "Should we invite him to join us?"

Jane shook her head. "No need. We're competitors. It wouldn't be appropriate."

The dismissal shouldn't have bothered me, yet I felt a sharp sting of resentment. I turned away, walking toward my car with measured steps.

Once inside the privacy of my vehicle, I pulled out my phone and dialed Lyle.

"Sir?" he answered immediately.

"Jane and Sean," I said without preamble. "What's their connection?"