She turned as Knox and Gabriel approached. Knox’s confident stride said he’d never been told no. Gabriel’s relaxed gait said the world amused him. Both were smirking. Never a good sign.
“If we’re finished, I’ll go,” she said.
“We haven’t ordered.”
“I’ll let you enjoy your evening with the boys.” She gathered her purse. “I’m going home to ramen and a glass of cheap wine. Text me the time for tomorrow.”
She stood as the men reached the table. They exchanged confused glances as she prepared to leave. She nodded to both. “Gentlemen, the booth is all yours. Enjoy the evening.”
Gabriel and Knox watched her go, then turned back to Ronan.
“What was that?” Gabriel asked. “Dinner meeting?”
“Strategy session.”
Knox eyed him. “Since when do you have strategy sessions over dinner with your assistant?”
He exhaled. “Remember your brilliant suggestion about finding a ‘family’ for the Beauchamp deal?”
Understanding dawned on Knox’s face. “No way. With her? And she agreed?”
“It’s business. That’s all.” The skeptical glance they exchanged irritated him more than it should.
“Right. And that’s why you couldn’t keep your eyes off her as she walked away?” Gabriel’s tone was the one he used to unsettle competitors.
“She’s already on the payroll. She knows my schedule and how I work.”
“The convenient choice,” Knox said, leaning back with a smug look he’d always hated.
“Exactly. Convenience. Practicality.” Ronan straightened his silverware, aligning the fork with the table’s edge. “I know her. No need to bring in a stranger who might complicate things.”
“Or someone you’d be less tempted by?” Gabriel asked.
“I’m not tempted by her. This is purely professional.”
These two had known him too long. Saw too much. The air in the booth felt thinner.
“She’s capable, professional, and completely uninterested in anything beyond this arrangement. And so am I.”
Even as he spoke, he heard how defensive he sounded. The way Knox studied him suggested he was cataloging every tell.
Gabriel leaned forward, eyes gleaming with the instinct that made him lethal in negotiations. “Let’s make this interesting. Since you’re so sure this is all business, I bet you’ll be the first one of us to fall.”
He gave a short laugh, more habit than humor. “That’s the dumbest bet I’ve ever heard.”
Knox grinned. “Good. Then you won’t mind putting your money where your mouth is.”
Gabriel nodded. “If you fall for her, you owe us a weekend at your lake house. Fully stocked bar. No complaints.”
Ronan rolled his eyes. “Fine. When I win, you both owe me a case of Macallan Twenty-Five.”
They shook on it. Knox and Gabriel wore matching grins that made Ronan’s skin prickle with unease.
It was the look they had before every major victory—like they knew a secret he didn’t.
He acted like it was ridiculous. Like the idea of developing feelings for her didn’t merit serious consideration.
But as the waiter arrived with menus, his thoughts slid back to the gala—the brush of his fingers at her back, the feel of her skin through thin fabric, the extra beat his hand had lingered when he helped her into the car. The surprising gentleness in her voice when she asked about his parents. He’d wanted to tell her more. To show her parts he’d kept hidden for years.
