“Why me?”
John stills, and when his eyes return to mine, they’re steely. “You’ve been off your game, Brooks. Distracted. Maybe a change of scenery will clear your head. The Wetherly lighthouse project needs someone who’s not afraid to get their hands dirty.” He pauses, gaze flicking to his keyboard as he adds, “If you still want to prove you’ve got what it takes to make partner.”
My pulse jumps. He hasn’t mentioned partnership directly to me for months, but if he’s bringing it up now, it must be on his mind.
“Besides,” John adds, typing again, as if the conversation is already over, “you’re getting a free night in the Hamptons on the company’s dime. Nothing to complain about.”
I suppress a snort. He makes it sound like a summer vacation, but it’s fucking February with a nor’easter on the way. My brow furrows at the thought, but there’s no point in arguing. Not with the mention of partnership again. Not when he’s right about me being distracted.
Maybe this is what I need. A chance to get away from the office. From Iris. To get back on track.
But there’s no denying it feels like another slap on the wrist.
My neck burns with humiliation, but I straighten my tie, ignoring it. My phone dings in my pocket, and I pull it out to see a calendar invite from John.Site visit: Wetherly Lighthouse, Saturday 3:00 p.m. / Follow-up meeting 7:00 p.m.
Two meetings. Fan-fucking-tastic.
I pocket my phone, jaw tight. “Fine,” I grit out, turning to go.
“Take Iris,” John adds.
I freeze, slowly glancing back. “Is that necessary?”
“Probably not,” John says, pinching the bridge of his nose like he’s at the end of his rope. “But I need her out of my hair.”
The words grate at something inside me, and I fight to keep my expression neutral. Why does he have to be so callous? I draw breath to speak, then catch myself. It will only make things worse, and besides, if her options are sticking around here with John or coming with me, she’s better off with me. At least with me, she won’t be subjected to her father’s casual cruelty.
I just have to remain professional for twenty-four hours while we’re away from the office. Together.Alone.
Totally doable.
We have two meetings, and they’ll eat up most of the time. The last meeting is at seven, and if the weather holds, we won’t have to stay out there. I pull up the weather app on my phone, and grimace. As I thought, there’s a huge front moving in, and I don’t fancy driving in it. With a quick Google, I find a motel in Wetherly by the sea. I’ll get Iris to book us in, just in case.
I head to Iris’s desk, hating that I have to tell her she now has to work this weekend. Maybe she had plans. A date, even. I picture her dressed up, climbing into some guy’s car. Laughing over dinner. Kissing him. A faceless blur of a man, but I want to punch him all the same. Grinding my molars, I shove the thought away. It’s not my business.
She glances up when I approach, brow dipping as she takes in my face. “Everything okay?”
At her question, I realize I’m scowling. Shit.
I smooth my expression, nodding. “John’s sending me to East Hampton this weekend to look into a lighthouse restoration project.” Alighthouse. God, I still can’t believe it. It’s so out of left field, I don’t even know what to make of it. There’s no doubt this is an assignment one of the juniors should take, but if the guy wasn’t a friend of John’s, we wouldn’t even be entertaining the idea. It doesn’t align with the firm’s urban portfolio. Now it’s my damn problem.
But Iris sees none of that.
“A lighthouse?” she asks, face brightening with interest. “That’s so cool.”
I force my breath out through my nose. I wonder howcoolshe’ll find it once I tell her she has to join me.
“I’m glad you think so, because John wants you to tag along.”
She shrugs. “Okay. Sounds fun.”
I hesitate, straightening a pencil on her desk.Don’t ask. Don’t do it. “You didn’t… have plans this weekend?”
She shakes her head, and relief grips me. The sensation is so intense it knocks the air from my lungs, and I steer myself back into cold professionalism.
“The last meeting is late in the day,” I say matter-of-factly. “The forecast isn’t good. You’ll need to book us into the Wetherly Motel in case the weather turns.”
“Of course.” She smiles, already turning to her keyboard. She’s being so accommodating, sonicedespite me ruining her weekend, and I want to kiss her.
