“Yes! Over here—thank you,” Julian says, accepting his omelet, and just like that, the conversation moves on to the breakfast, to the person who owns the place, to Aunt Ruby’s—of course—personal connection here.
Even as the conversation moves along, and even as I groan at the impossibly amazing flavor of the wild berry pancakes in front of me, I can’t keep the thought of Cole out of my head, or the taste of him from lingering in the back of my throat.
Chapter 18
Nico
It’s glaringly obvious to me, the moment Lucy Sullivan walks through the door on Monday morning, that she slept with Dane.
I’m sitting on the edge of Dane’s desk, fucking with him like I always do when I’m starting to feel bored. Cole is working on some improvements, but, if I’m being honest, I know we’ve already cornered the market here. It’s time to start seeking out the big dog that wants to purchase, or to start looking at the initial public offering.
So I’m bored, and that’s bad for poor Dane, because it means I’m looking for a distraction. For something fun to take my mind off the next steps. Ember has done its job—made us a shit ton of money, revolutionized the industry, shaken things up, and given Cole a new challenge. It’s time to start planning our exit.
Which is always a slog. The trough between one venture ending and another opportunity arriving can bemaddening.
Lucy Sullivan is wearing a simple ivory blouse and fitted dress pants, paired with heels. Her hair is carefully braided back, little diamond studs shining from her ears. It doesn’t look quite right on her to me—there’s definitely the sense that she would be more comfortable wearing casual clothes. But just becauseshe’s not used to the clothes yet doesn’t mean she’s not fucking gorgeous in them.
I’m not the only one to notice. Dane’s head turns sharply, his attention locking onto her and tracking her through the office until she sits down at her desk.
Dane has always been good at keeping his emotions bottled up. And I’ve always been good at reading people, figuring out what they don’t want me to know.
Luckily for me, there’s a really easy way to get confirmation on my hunch.
“Lucy!” I call, clapping my hands, hopping down off Dane’s desk, and stalking toward her.
Lucy looks up at me with an o-shaped mouth, her water halfway to her mouth. I catch her looking me up and down appreciatively, and don’t expect her to speak before I can, saying brightly, “Well, you’re here early.”
I raise my eyebrows at her and give her a big grin.
She looks different. More color on her cheeks, a little more makeup than the last time I saw her. This girl did something monumental—like sleeping with her new boss in the big city.
I don’t even have to look at Dane to feel his angry, over-focused gaze on my back as I pause in front of her desk and place my fingers on the surface, leaning forward. “Are you ready to go?”
Lucy blinks several times, glancing in the direction of Dane’s office—another dead giveaway—before looking at me once more.
“…ready to go?” she parrots, in an uncertain voice.
“Right—I need your help today with some important business. I was just waiting for you to come in.”
She glances at her computer, like she’s worried she might have missed an email, but I tap the desk, not wanting her to linger for long enough that Dane can interfere. If he can, he’ll keep me from taking her, which I know he wants to do.
“Yeah, of course,” she says, swallowing and gathering her things, before glancing back at Dane again. I bite my tongue to contain my chuckle. Right before we step into the elevator, I spare a glance over my shoulder to find my friend glaring at me with such dark intensity that I’m surprised it didn’t burn a hole straight through my head.
Together, Lucy and I ride in silence down to the garage. Normally, I would take the opportunity to chat, get to know her better, but I’m too caught up in my thoughts about Dane.
Sleeping with an assistant is so far outside the scope of something I would expect from him that if I were anyone else—if I were Cole, for example, I might not have even thought it possible. “CEO sleeps with female assistant”is a headline more likely to be attached tomyname—not that I’ve ever done anything like that. Dane usually hires stone-like copies of himself. Not really my type.
Lucy, however, is. My type is most women, actually. As long as they have a sense of humor and like to have fun, I’ll have fun with them. Curves, skinny girls, tall and short, all hair colors—I’ve never been one to discriminate. Dane, however, will cite the most minor reason for why he’s not interested in a woman.
Her perfume, her laugh, how she ordered her drink.
Dane is a rule follower. Conservative in everything he does. Careful.
So, what is it about Lucy Sullivan that’s made him act so out of character?
“Wait right here,” I instruct, before striding over to the valet and calling up my car. Lucy stays dutifully on the sidewalk, and a moment later, my pearly, ocean-blue California Spider turns the corner, the valet driving it doing so with great care.
As he should—it’s been my car since I was a teenager. It’s my most prized possession, and nobody has ever convinced me to put it up for auction. Every charity that approaches me aboutdoing such a thing is quickly turned away with a check doubling the amount it would go for—nothing could be worth selling it.
