She lifts her chin a fraction, her eyes lock on mine. “It was unlocked.”
“That wasn’t an invitation,” I say. “I told you there’s no job here for you. You need to leave.”
Her mouth tightens, but she doesn’t back down. Instead, she takes a step closer. “I can’t.”
“Can’t?” I repeat. “Or won’t?”
A beat of silence passes between us. “Both,” she says finally.
The honesty throws me.
I scrub a hand over my face, my irritation warring with a reluctant flicker of respect. It takes nerve to walk into a stranger’s house after having the door slammed in your face.
“I don’t hire people I haven’t vetted,” I say. “Even if I was hiring,” I add quickly. “Which I’m not.”
“My resume is in your email,” she says, ignoring the last half of what I said. “Along with references, a copy of my transcripts, and a breakdown of my experience. Tessa said you’d want proof.”
Of course she did. My daughter, as frustrating as she was proving to be, also knew how to get past my arguments.
“She had no business doing that.” I shake my head. “Doing any of it.”
“She was worried about you.”
“I’m not someone who needs to be worried about.”
Again, she takes another step closer to me and my office. Her gaze travels over me, assessing me. “You look like someone who hasn’t had a decent sleep in a while.”
I almost snap back, but she’s not wrong.
“Even if I did need an assistant,” I say, each word deliberate, “you wouldn’t be it.”
Hurt flashes across her face, but only for an instant.
“Because I’m a woman? Or because I’m young?”
“Neither.” I cross my arms over my chest. “You’re a distraction.”
The words are out before I can stop them.
Her eyes widen slightly, surprise crossing her delicate features.
I’m not a total asshole, I don’t want to be rude. But I do want her to leave. Maybe that did the trick.
Instead, she folds her arms, mimicking my pose. “ I assure you, my organizational skills are far more dangerous than my appearance, and that’s not even mentioningmy skills when it comes to analyzing stocks and investment opportunities. I assure you, Luke, whatever distraction you might be feeling will be completely overshadowed by my skills.”
I’m temporarily speechless, and she takes the opportunity to look past me into my office. I know exactly what she’s seeing. The stacks of folders, crumpled up pieces of paper, and the total and complete chaos.
Before I can stop her, she steps past me into the mess.
“Hey!”
She stops just over the threshold, her eyes scanning the room for a moment. I watch her as she takes it all in. There’s no judgment on her face, just an analytical gaze.
“What were you working on last?” Her question takes me off guard.
“The Henderson file,” I tell her without hesitation. “I have a client meeting this afternoon, but?—”
“You can’t find the files?”
