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I hated that she was doing it because she’d been hurt again.

I wanted her to be looking out the damned window because she was giving me some sass about clouds looking like elephants.

Now, she straightens in her chair and narrows her eyes at Ally for a long moment. Then she turns to me. “And this is why you don’t sleep with your agent,” she says softly. “Especially one who would never be the right match for you.”

Now the room heats back up, Ally’s legendary temper sparking.

“Excuse me?” she asks hotly.

Violet fixes her with a stare. “You heard me.”

The standoff goes on for long enough that I feel a bead of sweat form on my temple, and maybe I’m a fucking coward but I shut my mouth and wait to see how this is going to turn out.

Ally vs Violet.

Clash of the titans.

Eventually, Ally breaks the silence. “Why wouldn’t I be the right match for Ace?”

The question isn’t laced with heat.

It’s…genuinely curious, though her sharp eyes are still firmly fixed on Violet.

Prepared to strike.

“You’re clearly smart, beautiful, successful, and good at your job,” Vi says coolly. “But you’re sharp, full of barbed edges, and your heart is locked up so tight no one will ever get in there. Ace will do the work to break through the armor”—now her voice goes gentle—“but he needs someone who’ll do that work right back. It’s kind of hard to meet someone halfway when you’re never willing to offer up your heart in return, Ally.”

I get it then.

Violet offered her heart up to me.

After I worked my way through those layers.

And showed her the path into mine.

Yeah, my girl knows what she’s talking about.

Ally leans further back in her chair, her lips pressed together, gaze assessing, and I wonder what she’s thinking.

And if it involves murder.

“And, for the record,” Violet says. “I’ve fucked other people too. Kind of hard to get to our age and not have slept with other people. But Ace is with me now, and that’s all I care about.”

“Because he hired you.”

“Because he loves me and I love him.” Her eyes come to mine. “And I’m giving him the money from our contract back.”

I scowl. “No, you’re not.”

She turns to me, expression earnest. “This—us—isn’t about the money. And if I’m being honest with myself, it hasn’t been that from the moment you set foot in my office.”

I can’t lie.

I love hearing that.

But, “You’ve got rent increasing, princess, along with an assistant to pay, her nephew to keep in Oreos and baseball gear, and sexy shoes to buy. You need the money.”

Those gorgeous blue eyes on mine, holding my stare as she whispers, “I won’t do it that way, honey. I won’t.”