“I know, I know, but Andy—they had matching tattoos! And this whole ceremony thing with sake cups, and Tory had to?—”
“Maybe don’t broadcast family business on an international call?” Ethan appeared behind his brother, wearing his patented why-did-I-get-the-chaotic-sibling expression.
“Says the man who spent three hours analyzing Tory’s tea ceremony techniques,” Fin shot back before turning to me with a grin that spelled mischief. “Oh my God, Andy, you should see the kimonos here! There’s this one in particular—silk with hand-painted cherry blossoms and the most gorgeous obi. The way it flows when you move is just…” He sighed dreamily. “And don’t even get me started on the formal furisode with their long sleeves. They’re works of art!”
“Finley,” Ethan cut in, doing his best to wrangle his fashion-obsessed brother. “Maybe stop drooling over the family’s formal wear?”
“But Andy, you should see Tory’s family compound! It’s like something out of a movie!” Fin’s voice carried as Ethan physically hauled him away from whatever hiding spot he’d claimed in what had to be the most elaborate Japanese estate I’d ever seen.
“Sorry, Andy. Certain people need to learn about discretion,” Ethan said. “How’s the wedding planning going?”
“Oh, you mean the social event of the century?” I rolled my eyes, glancing at the mountain of wedding magazines Mia had strategically placed on my desk. “My dear sister and Savannah have joined forces to turn it into some kind of revolutionary statement. James twitches every time William suggests anothersharedelement. Pretty sure the only reason he hasn’t completely lost it is that Matt keeps reminding him how happy Mia is.”
“And how’s the pining billionaire situation?”
I couldn’t help but snort. “If you mean Xavier’s elaborate scheme to make Ryan jealous by pretending to pursue me? Still ongoing. He scheduled another ‘urgent meeting’ with Matt in New York just so Ryan would fly up to ‘protect’ me.”
“And Ryan still hasn’t figured it out?”
“Ryan’s currently convinced Xavier is plotting a hostile takeover of my company to get to Matt through me.” I shook my head at the ridiculousness of it all. “Meanwhile, Xavier’s practically writing Notice Me in the sky with his private jet.”
A commotion off-screen drew Ethan’s attention. “Got to go. Fin’s discovered the weapons room.”
“The what—” The call cut off before I could process that particular revelation.
I turned back to my work, trying not to smile at the latest batch of analytics. Our new social media app was launching nextweek, and somehow the security system I’d originally designed for Matt had caught the attention of several high-profile clients. Who knew there were so many billionaires desperate to monitor their partners’ working hours?
The sun was setting over Vegas, painting the sky in brilliant oranges and pinks that reflected off the countless glass towers. I glanced at my watch—an anniversary gift from Matt—and decided it was time to head home. My staff was still buzzing beyond the glass walls of my office, the creative team locked in their daily battle over interface designs while marketing prepped for next week’s launch. Sometimes I still couldn’t believe this was my life—that my crazy ideas had actually turned into something real.
The moment I stepped out of my office, Bruno and Tyrone materialized like two perfectly suited mountains. A year later, and Matt’s “nonnegotiable” security detail was still shadowing my every move.
“Ready to head home, boss?” Bruno asked, stoic as ever. It still amused me how far we’d come—from him silently judging me as Matt’s biggest security risk, to grudgingly calling me Andy when we finally earned each other’s respect, and now ‘boss’ since I technically signed his paychecks. Who would have thought my former watchdog would become one of my most trusted protectors?
“You know, one of these days, I’ll get you to drop the ‘boss,’” I teased, already knowing his response.
“Yes, boss,” Tyrone replied with that tiny hint of amusement in his dark eyes that told me he was in on the joke.
They escorted me through the building, my employees calling out goodbyes as we passed. The private underground parking lot—another of Matt’s security “suggestions”—was already occupied by Thomas, my driver, waiting with the sleek black Mercedes.
Vegas traffic was its usual chaos as we headed home, the Strip beginning to pulse with its signature neon heartbeat. Tourists flooded the sidewalks, music spilled from countless venues, and I caught myself smiling.
Thomas navigated through the exclusive Lake Las Vegas area to our modern mansion—which Matt still insisted on calling a “reasonable-sized house.” The gates opened automatically, security cameras tracking our progress up the curved driveway. Sometimes I wondered if Matt had shares in a surveillance equipment company I didn’t know about.
Bruno and Tyrone did their usual perimeter check—I’d long since given up telling them our house was probably more secure than Fort Knox—while I headed inside. The foyer opened into our great room with its twenty-foot ceilings and a view that still made me pause every time. The lake stretched out beyond our infinity pool, the desert mountains rising purple and gold in the distance.
“Welcome home, Mr. Andy,” Maria called from the kitchen, the scent of garlic and herbs filling the air.
Upstairs, our master suite took up the entire east wing—because apparently normal-sized bedrooms were beneath Matt Caine’s dignity. The bathroom alone was bigger than my old apartment, all marble and glass, with a shower that had featured in more than a few of my favorite memories.
I stripped off my suit and let the hot water wash away the day’s tension. Afterward, I pulled on one of Matt’s dress shirts—this one a deep blue that fell to mid-thigh. If he was going to leave perfectly good shirts in our closet, I was going to wear them.
The house was quiet as I padded downstairs, Bruno and Tyrone having retreated to their security office for the evening. I couldn’t resist sampling the sauce Maria was reducing in thekitchen—cooking wasn’t my forte, but I’d become an expert taste tester.
“Perfect as always,” I said, reaching for another taste when strong arms suddenly wrapped around my waist. A familiar voice rumbled in my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
“Now that’s a sight better than Xavier’s PowerPoint presentations.”
My heart did that ridiculous flutter it always did at the sound of his voice. I turned in Matt’s arms, and there he was—all six foot three of perfectly tailored suit and storm-gray eyes that made my knees weak. His hair was slightly disheveled, like he’d been running his hands through it during meetings, which only made him look more unfairly attractive.
