“Do not ‘ah’ me.”
“I am going to ‘ah’ you. You earned it.”
“You are very close to being removed from this office.”
“By who? Your assistant?”
My stare turns flat.
Diego’s grin widens. “Too soon?”
I lean back in my chair. “You came here to discuss my assistant?”
“No. I came here because you warned me away from Victoria like I was a dog sniffing up the wrong tree, and then a week later, I find out you’ve spent the night with her.”
“I did not warn you away like a dog.”
“You did. Nicely. In Mario language.”
“There is no Mario language.”
“There is absolutely Mario language. It mostly consists of orders, and making people feel like they might die of insufferable silence.”
“You are still alive, so apparently you are fluent.”
He laughs once, then sobers just enough to make me pay attention.
Diego is not often serious.
“I was not going to touch her. You know this.”
“I know.”
“Then why warn me away?”
I look at him for a long moment.
Because she had walked into my building and caught my attention before she said a word.
Because I saw the way Diego smiled at her and felt something inside me rear its ugly head.
Because I told myself it was about protecting the company, protecting her access, protecting the work, and all of that was true.
It was just not the whole truth.
Diego studies me when I don't answer right away.
“I do not owe explanations for my personal life,” I say.
“No. You don’t.”
“Good.”
“But you made it about me,” he says. “That is the part I dislike.”
I hold his gaze.
He sits forward, forearms resting on his knees now. His face has changed. Less easy. Less amused. More like the man beneath the charm, the man people often don’t realize is under it all until it’s too late.
