Champagne Brunch: The Stiletto Sisters Series by Ainsley Claire (e ink manga reader TXT) 📕

Nate tells me. “Mia and her attorney met with the federal prosecutors in Portland earlier today. The State Department is getting some pressure from the Russian government. They’re sniffing around to trade Viviana for a few American tourists who are stuck in Russian prisons.”

“The Russians have loaded the internet with false stories about her, and well, quite frankly, about you,” I tell him.

“Yes, I’m aware. Jim’s team has been pulling them down off the servers, but each time they do, another one pops up.”

“Fucking cockroaches,” I sneer, equally angry at them and at myself for believing their crap.

“Exactly. Anyway, they were coming back as scheduled, and the helicopter held Mia, her lawyer, Marci, and the pilot, Craig. He works for Jim, and we know he’s solid—he was in the Marine Corps with us and did three tours in Afghanistan. They checked in as they took off, and they hit a mayday not long after crossing the California state line. We have tracking, and it looks like they went down somewhere between Redding and Eureka.”

“I told Bash I could drive north. I mean, if they find them, I’m close and can get to them quickly to drive them back.”

“No, Clear has it handled. We’re just here waiting.”

“Axel, would you like to come over?” Lilly asks. “We can all wait for news together.”

I can’t believe Mia didn’t rake me over the coals with her friends. But I decide I should take that as a good sign. Maybe she doesn’t totally hate my guts.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Nate says.

“Let me check,” I say. “My sister is still here with her four kids, and I’m not sure if she’s comfortable alone.”

“We understand,” Lilly says. “We can hold.”

“Persistent, aren’t you?” I tell her.

“You bet. We have a teenager in our house.”

“I’ll be right back.” I walk upstairs and find my sister singing to Tavish.

“He won’t fall asleep,” she laments when I poke my head in the doorway. “He wants to hang out with his brothers. I swear this one is going to kill me.”

I look down at Tavish, and he’s all smiles, not an ounce of exhaustion apparent in his body. “Mia went missing in a helicopter accident,” I tell my sister. “A friend has invited me over to wait with him. Do you mind if I go?”

“No, of course not. I’m certainly capable of managing my boys on my own. And anyway, Nina’s here. I hope Mia’s okay.” Alana looks at me, as if she can sense my hesitation. “You don’t have to stay here with us. Go over and wait with them. Go take care of Mia. She’s going to need you.”

I nod and get back on the phone as I head down the hall. “I’m on my way.”

“I’ll send one of Jim’s Suburbans to make it easier to come—fewer cars in the driveway,” Nate says.

“Sure. Or I can always take a rideshare.”

“No, getting past all the press and everything else will be easier with someone from Jim’s team. Really.”

I hate that he’s sending a ride for me. “Okay, thanks.”

In less than fifteen minutes, Bash is at my front door.

“Do you have news?” I ask.

“No, when Nate called looking for a car and driver to take you to his place, I thought I’d come. I’m worried about Mia, too.”

“I just hope Nina is enough coverage for my sister to be here alone.”

“You know Nina was an Army Ranger, right? I think she has more hand-to-hand combat skills than most of our team.”

”Oh right, I forgot. She’s such a natural with kids.”

Bash laughs. “Good cover.”

The drive isn’t long, and as we pull into the estate, I call Jeremy to tell him where I am and promise to keep him up to date.

“If you get bored, I have an Xbox in the guest house and there are some good games you can play,” he tells me. “Do you need me to fly home? I already checked, and I can get on the flight to Denver at six and be back in San Francisco by ten local and then to the estate by eleven tomorrow morning or so.”

I’m touched that he would do that for me. “Thank you, but no,” I assure him. “Stay with your family. I promise I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything.”

I hang up as we exit the car, and we arrive at the front door just as a dozen or so pizzas are being delivered. Once we’re all inside, Nate introduces me to Walker Clifton. His wife is Marci Peterson, Mia’s attorney, who was also on the helicopter. He shakes my hand and doesn’t seem too worried. He must know something I don’t.

“Help yourself to some pizza,” Lilly says as she opens the boxes on the huge kitchen island and pulls down some plates. “Can I get you a glass of wine or a beer? What are you in the mood for?”

“I’ll have a beer,” I tell her.

Walker nods. “I’ll take one of Nate’s homebrews.”

Nate hands us each a green bottle and gives Lilly a look of triumph. I look at the label, and it’s not familiar. “I brew it myself,” Nate explains. “No pressure to like it.”

Lilly scrunches up her nose. “I think it’s awful.”

Nate rolls his eyes. “I’d think you had no taste, but you love me so I know that can’t be true....”

“If you don’t like the beer,” Lilly tells me, “we can pour that crap down the sink and I’ll get you something else.”

I smile and hold my bottle up for a toast with Walker and Nate. We cross the necks and take our first drink. It has a heavy wheat flavor with a bitter, lingering taste. I can see why Lilly might not like it, but I do. “Cheers,” I