the stink eye for tagging along with him, but he could go fuck himself. As if he didn’t invite himself everywhere Elliot and I went.

“What if this was a date?” he grumbled as we were seated on a patio with mountain views.

I opened my menu, peering at him over it. “You’re not dating Elise.”

“Well, obviously not when you’re getting between us.”

I gave him a droll look. “You don’t date. If you gave Elise the Luca Rossi treatment, Elliot would have your head on a pike.”

He sniffed. “She’s beautiful. Don’t you think she’s beautiful?”

“Of course she is. She always has been.”

He snapped open his menu. “I never noticed before. Shame. I could have been looking at her instead of you and Elliot. It would have made all those drab dinners you guys forced me to a lot more entertaining.”

Before I could use my menu to brain him, Elise came rushing through the restaurant. Thank Christ she wasn’t wearing those obscene leggings. They had been a second skin, revealing every one of her curves. I’d barely survived walking behind her into her apartment.

Luca rose before I could, helping her into her chair and made a big show of kissing her cheek, winking at me when his lips were on her. When she was seated, I realized this week’s brunch outfit wasn’t any better.

“Weston,” she breathed, her cheeks flushed. “Luca didn’t say you’d be here.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off her. “What on earth are you wearing?”

She reared back, her hand flying to her chest. There was so much bare skin. Her tits were practically on a serving platter, shoved up and out by a corset contraption beneath an open flannel top. It was a bewildering combination that had clearly scrambled my brain.

“I’m wearing clothes, Weston.” She started to pull her flannel closed, but Luca caught her hand.

I scoffed. “Barely.”

“You look perfect. Don’t let this jackass bring you down,” he murmured gently.

She sighed, turning her hand over to wrap her fingers around his. “Thank you. Saoirse and I went to the farmers’ market this morning and she wanted to be my stylist. I have all this pretty lingerie I never had the chance to wear and she claims it’s a crime, so we both went out in lace and flannel. I felt good. Had I known my boss was going to be here, however, I would have changed.”

Luca rolled his pretty boy eyes. “West can get up and leave if he’s making you uncomfortable. I invited you to lunch. He invited himself.”

She waved him off. “It’s fine. Honestly, I don’t know what I was thinking running around like this. I’m sure I look ridiculous.” She started to button her flannel, and I reached out, catching her hand. It took all my willpower not to get stuck on how unbelievably soft her skin was.

“You don’t look ridiculous. I apologize for making you feel like you did.” I forced myself to drop my hold on her.

She was still clutching her shirt. “Why did you?”

“I—” I rubbed my chin, searching for a suitable excuse for behaving like a jackass. “I’m not used to seeing you dress like this. It took me off guard and I reacted poorly. Luca’s right. You’re perfect. Lovely. Don’t change a thing.”

She lowered her hand, attempting to hide her smile. “Well, then I guess I forgive you. It’s a good thing too, because I would have hated to tell Elliot my boobs took you off guard.”

Luca let out a raucous laugh. “Oh, fuck. Please do, but make sure I’m there to witness the atomic bomb when it goes off.”

She laughed with him. “He still thinks I’m a child.”

“He’s protective,” I corrected. “Don’t you think that’s understandable, given your circumstances?”

“It is,” she admitted. “And I’m protective of him for the same reasons. But I’ve never once had anything to say about the women he dates, nor have I sicced my friends on him to make sure he doesn’t get lonely when I’m out of town.”

Luca held his hands up. “Now, now, I asked you to lunch of my own volition. I happen to like your company.”

“Thank you,” she said sweetly. “I enjoy your company too.”

I interrupted the lovefest.

“Your roles are different, though.” I placed my menu on the table, squaring my attention on Elise. “He’s four years older, yes, but Elliot was your guardian. I don’t think that responsibility ever ended for him.”

Elise and Elliot were orphans. Their father had died from a brain tumor when she was ten and Elliot was fourteen. The tumor had taken him within months of diagnosis. No one had been prepared. Least of all, their mother. After losing her husband, Elaine Levy fell apart. As a constant visitor to the Levy household, I’d witnessed her steady and rapid decline. Elliot had almost turned down Stanford, but Elise hadn’t allowed him to.

Two years in, he’d ended up dropping out anyway. Elaine had wrapped her car around a tree and Elise had needed him. Whether he’d move home had never been a question. Me following, on the other hand, he hadn’t allowed.

“And I love him for it,” she said. “But that responsibility doesn’t extend to you guys, you know. Can’t we just be friends without all the big brother stuff coming in to play?”

Luca raised a brow at me. “I can cut out the big brother stuff, sweetheart. I don’t know about West. He’s been doing it for a lot longer than me, and now he’s your boss.”

“We can be friends,” I snapped, annoyed Luca was speaking for me.

The waiter came by for our order then, eyeing Elise’s cleavage. His gaze kept returning, the art of subtlety completely lost on this douche. Fortunately for him, she seemed oblivious.

Luca and Elise settled into an easy conversation about the farmers’ market and upcoming weekend activities. I listened to them both but chose to stay quiet. For one, I’d already put my foot in my mouth one too many times this afternoon. For another, it was nice to watch Elise laugh and enjoy herself.

Her happiness wasn’t a puzzle I’d been able to solve, which nagged at me. If I hadn’t been stuck in meetings all week, I would have worked harder at it. My daily Post-its had probably been more annoying than anything.

“Oh, Luca.” Elise perked up as if just remembering something. “Can you suggest a good place to grab a drink near my apartment? Somewhere not too busy where we can speak to each other?”

“Of course I can, bella.” He reclined in his chair, draping his arm over the back. “Tell me the occasion. That will give me a better idea of places to suggest.”

She cupped her cheeks, doing nothing to hide her rising blush. “I have a date tonight. He asked me to dinner, but I said drinks instead in case it’s awkward and I want to bail.”

His eyebrows shot up. “A date? Way to bury the lede. I think you need to start at the beginning.”

I sat up straight, interested in her answer.

“It’s not a big deal. Last night, I was out with my coworkers and this guy approached me. He seemed nice, and he was very straightforward and eager, which I liked. Anyway, his name is Thomas, he works in finance, and he confirmed our date first thing this morning. According to Saoirse, that scores him top marks.” She gestured toward me. “Weston was there. He saw me talking to him. You can ask him what he thinks.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Wait a minute. You’re going on a date with that redheaded lumberjack in the ill-fitting suit?”

Luca choked on his water, sputtering into his fist. Elise, meanwhile, did not seem amused. Then, neither was I. Last night, I had noticed some big guy chatting her up, but I’d missed a number exchange taking place.

“His name is Thomas, Weston, and I found him very good-looking. Not everyone can look like they stepped out of a magazine, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t worthy of respect.”

I chuffed. “I didn’t say that, so don’t put words in my mouth. I’m only talking about the man I saw you with last night. You can, and should, do a lot better.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You know nothing about him other than what he looks like. Who knew you were so shallow?”

“Yeah,” Luca chimed. “Who knew? I’m ashamed of you, West.”

I picked up my glass, ignoring Luca. “I’m simply saying you shouldn’t rush into a date with the first man who asks.”

She folded her arms under her tits, and I nearly swallowed my tongue. They were so fucking round and right fucking there. Were they always there, just like that, under her clothing?

What was I thinking? Of course they were. She walked around with those round fucking tits every day. She sat in my building, typing on my computer, doing work for my company, those big, beautiful tits beneath a measly layer of clothing.

“Why are you presuming Thomas is the first man to ask me out? For all you know, I could have been sleeping my way through Denver the past month.”

Luca chuckled. “My god, Elise. We have to hang out without Elliot more often. You’re even more fun without your ball and chain dragging you down.”

That made her laugh. “He would definitely not appreciate me banging my way through the city, and if you tell him I said that, I’ll shave your head.”

“You cruel mistress. My lips are sealed.” Luca mimed tossing her the key to his locked lips. Elise caught it and tucked it in her cleavage. I wondered what the fuck I’d done in my life to deserve this form of torment.

She turned back to me. “Honestly, Thomas is going to be my first date. I don’t have very high expectations, and I’m definitely not looking for a new boyfriend. But like I said, he seems nice and nonthreatening, so I’m going to give the whole dating thing a whirl. It could be fun.”

Our waiter returned, setting down our plates while I mulled over her words. As soon as he left, I asked, “What does nonthreatening mean?”

She picked up her pickle. Always the pickle first.

“It means I don’t think he’s the type to twist me into knots and spit me out all tangled up when he’s through. Nonthreatening.”

“Then he does sound like a good dude to practice your dating skills on,” Luca agreed. “I’ll text you some recs for tonight. You want low key, not too romantic. Our boy Thomas doesn’t need to get any funny ideas.”

When Elise’s pickle was gone, I put mine on her plate. We’d never eaten a meal together where I didn’t give her my pickle. There’d also never been a time when she hadn’t beamed at me for doing so.

“Thank you, Weston. You’re my favorite person to eat sandwiches with. I always get double the pickles.”

I wiped my mouth with my napkin. “I like how happy a pickle makes you.”

Her cheeks flushed. “It’s the little things, you know?”

Luca’s head cocked, his eyes darting from me to her. I could practically hear the gears of his mind turning, but whatever he was thinking, he chose not to speak it out loud.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Dear Elise,

As one of my newest employees, I’m checking in to see how you’re doing.

Did you have a nice weekend?

On the elevator this morning, you appeared rejuvenated.

Are you that thrilled to be back at work?

Inquiringly,

Weston

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Dear Grumpy Boss,

Do you send this type of email to all your new employees?

I had a lovely weekend. Are you asking about any specific moments?

As for your question regarding my rejuvenated appearance, that is neither due to my nice weekend nor the thrill of returning to work. My secret is bathing in the blood of virgins once a week. If you’re nice, I’ll share my source.

Sanguinely,

Elise

I tipped my head back and groaned. She couldn’t make things easy, could she? If Elise had realized I was ignoring hundreds of emails to read hers, maybe she would have gone easier on me.

I wanted to know how her date with fucking lumberjack Thomas had gone.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Dear Elise,

While your bloodbath sounds fascinating, and is clearly working, I don’t think I’ll be partaking in the ritual.

As for which specific parts of your weekend I’m referring to, I’ll be honest and say I’d very much like to know if I should be hiring someone to make redheaded Thomas disappear.

Homicidally,

Weston

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Dear Grumpy Boss,

I don’t know if I should be using company time to discuss my dating life. You should probably rethink putting your murder plans in a company email as well.

I’m very busy today. Aren’t you? It’s strange you have all this time to email me when you couldn’t fit me in for lunch last week.

Hmmm…

Concernedly,

Elise

Lunch? What was she talking about? If she’d wanted to have lunch with me, I would have found a way to make that happen.

“Renata,” I called out.

My assistant took her time making her way into my office.

“Yes, Weston?”

“Did Elise Levy call to invite me to lunch last week?”

She nodded. “Mmmhmm.”

“What?” I rose from my desk, my chair rolling backward. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

She cocked her head. “Actually, I did tell you. You were in meetings with the Sava Group last week, as you recall.”

My brow pinched. I wasn’t amused by Renata’s tone. “Yes. I am well aware. What I do not recall is you telling me Elise Levy phoned for me.”

“I did, Weston, and I don’t appreciate you implying I’m a liar.” Her hands went to her hips. “You were in your bubble and nothing exists outside of it. I didn’t press the issue because I know how you get when you zone out the rest of the world. I also didn’t realize Elise Levy’s calls should be put through, considering you never told me that.”

Exhaling, I stared at my assistant. She was right. Last week, I’d had meeting after meeting. When I wasn’t in meetings, I was responding to emails and making budget decisions. All my weeks were hectic, but last week had been especially so. I’d done nothing but work and sleep. Everything else had fallen by the wayside.

“Elise is Elliot’s sister.”

“I’m aware.” Renata’s mouth twitched. She wasn’t happy with me.

“Unless I tell you otherwise, put Elise through when she calls.”

“Please,” Renata added dryly.

Lifting a brow, I wondered if anyone else in my position was reminded to use their manners by their assistant.

Probably not.

“Please, Renata.”

She smirked. “Of course, Weston.”

I nodded. “Mark off some time for me around lunchtime today.” She glared at me. “Please,” I added.

“All right.” Then she wandered out with a carefree wave over her shoulder.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Dear Elise,

Would you join me for lunch today?

I’d like to apologize for neglecting you last week, and since we technically won’t be on company time, we can discuss the murder of redheaded Thomas.

Professionally,

Weston

A minute later, her email pinged in my inbox, and a stupid grin spread across my face.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Dear Grumpy Boss,

I’ll accept your invitation under two conditions:

  1. You can’t glare, frown, or scowl at me.
  2. There is no mention of murdering or maiming my dates.

Since I’m doubtful you can meet those conditions, I’ll write your name on my calendar in pencil so I can erase you at any moment.

Skeptically,

Elise

For the first time, probably ever in this office, I tossed my head back and laughed. Elise Levy had just laid down a challenge, and I was more than willing to accept it.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Dear Elise,

Mark me down in pen.

Confidently,

Weston

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