Remy nods once in agreement.
“Good.” I collect the document to read more thoroughly once we are back at the office. “And if working with Damon affects company operations, the contract terminates immediately.”
“Understood.”
“One more thing.” Enzo leans forward. “If you’re here to get back at Damon or sabotage us, a lawsuit will be the least of your problems.”
Remy doesn’t even blink. “Noted. And just so we’re clear, if I wanted revenge on Damon, I’d have posted his browser history online six months ago. I’m here for the paycheck and the challenge.”
My brothers are both looking at me for direction. Every instinct I have is screaming that this is a bad idea.
But I’ve been making tough decisions for my brothers since we were fourteen. Since the night our life changed. And that analysis sitting in front of me is the first real lead we’ve had since this fiasco started.
I extend my hand. “We have a deal.”
Remy shakes it, her grip firm and brief. “Then I’ll see you Monday morning. Nine?”
“Eight.” I pull my hand back. “We start early. I will email you the details.”
“Okay, I’ll see you at eight.” This time, she definitely smiles.
She leaves, the door clicking shut behind her.
We are all quiet, trying to process the problem we’re facing.
Then Enzo says what we’re all thinking. “Damon is going to lose his fucking mind.”
Breck shrugs. “Damon’s been through hell this year. The breakup wrecked him, and from what he said, I get why he’s bitter.”
I wave a hand dismissively. “Damon can deal with it. This is business.”
Breck stretches in his chair. “Did we ever actually look at her before? Because I’m suddenly regretting every interaction where I wasn’t paying attention.”
Enzo and I both turn to glare at him.
“What? I’m just making observations.” He holds up his hands. “The freckles alone are?—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” I warn.
“Right. Damon’s ex. Off limits. Got it.” But the smirk on his face says he’s already filed that observation away for later.
My phone buzzes.
Damon:Heading to the office. Want to grab lunch and go over the Geneva pitch?
I stare at the message, then at the door Remy just walked through.
This is going to be a fucking disaster.
CHAPTER 3
Remy
The Jacobs Security building is glass and steel, minimalist in that way only serious money can pull off.
I show my brand-new security badge to the guard at the front desk and try not to think about whether or not I made a terrible decision. My badge photo isn’t exactly a confidence booster. I look like a deer caught in headlights.
The elevator ride to the executive floor is smooth and silent, which gives me way too much time to second-guess everything. My blazer is pressed, my portfolio is organized, and I’ve rehearsed my opening remarks no fewer than forty-seven times.
