Dylan put a hand on my shoulder before stepping in front of me. “What the hell? What’s your fucking problem?”
“You fucking paintedthaton the side of our building?” From ten feet away, Austin gestured angrily as he closed the distance between us. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
I flinched. Crap. “Uh, actually—”
“I was bored Friday night.” Dylan cut me off and then shrugged like it was no big deal. “And I was feeling artistic.”
“It’s disrespectful. What is James going to turn it into when he shows up in an hour? You really want to reenact this in front of the cameras? Because you know he’ll want it for the show.”
Dylan hitched a shoulder. “It’ll give him something to film and keep him off Indy’s case. I don’t have a problem with it. Why do you?”
My stomach twisted as Austin gave his brother this look like he was ashamed of him and didn’t know who the hell he’d turned into. I should say something, but Dylan had made it clear that he wanted to take the bullet for me. Would speaking up make it worse? I didn’t really know enough about their dynamic to say for sure. And Austin’s rage had my flight or fight response maxed out. I wanted to fly out of here so bad.
“How about we set up Indy in the conference room with the paperwork and then hash it out?” Dylan said blandly.
“You’re seriously going to leave it up?” he asked incredulously. “You won’t paint over it?”
Dylan shook his head.
Austin huffed out an irritated breath. “Fine. We’ll finish this conversation when the crew gets here.”
“Fine with me,” Dylan returned mockingly.
“Indy, the conference room is this way,” Austin directed, gesturing to the hall on the left.
“We’ll meet you there,” Dylan answered for me. Again.
“Fine.” Austin shook his head again, then stomped toward the conference room.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
“Don’t worry about it. I told you I was willing to take the heat on it, and I meant that. I’m used to them being pissed at me. And I am the one who made it specific to us.”
“You don’t know what my plans were for it. I didn’t exactly get to finish it.”
His lips quirked. “Touché.”
“I still don’t like that they’re mad at you for something I did. It’s not right.”
“It’s funny and well done. You should be proud of it. I know I am.” Then he gave this look that had me holding my breath. Like he saw me. Actually saw me and liked what he found there.
Tears blurred my eyes for a moment, and I shook my head, breaking the moment, as I struggled to get my emotions under control.
“Ah, we should get to that paperwork.” And then he headed for the hallway like someone was lowkey chasing him.
After a beat, I followed him at a much slower pace.
* * *
Dylan hadn’t been exaggerating—James was a dick of the highest order.
He’d taken one look at me when we came into the shop and asked, “who the fuck is the kid?”
“Our new receptionist,” Austin returned laconically.
James huffed. “Since when? I have a casting call scheduled this week.”
“Exactly.” Austin raised his eyebrows. “We want someone with functioning braincells working with us.”
