Bitch.
Ren led me down the hall and into an office, which I again did not take in, mostly because I was fuming. He then led me to a big desk. He put down the coffee, grabbed the donut bag from my hand, tossed it with the coffee then pulled me loosely into his arms.
When he had me there, he said quietly, “Dom hired her.”
That explained a lot.
“Before he reunited with Sissy,” Ren went on.
Well, that was a relief.
Ren kept talking.
“I’ll admit, her attitude often leaves a lot to be desired. Lucky and Santo hate her. And she does not hide she’s attracted to Dom or me.”
Great. Just great.
Ren wasn’t done, unfortunately.
“She has also given us no reason to discipline or terminate her. I know she worked for Lee. but I saw her resume and personally checked her references. Although Lee said he had issues with her which led to her termination, he didn’t share those with me but did share they had nothing to do with her performance. Her other references were stellar. The other applicants didn’t come close. We were in a jam and needed somebody. So I agreed to take her on.”
His arm tightened and he dipped his face close.
“I see you aren’t fond of her, though I had no idea until now you weren’t, but she’s very good at her job, honey.”
“She’s a bitch,” I declared.
“That may be so—”
“No, Ren. She’s a bitch,” I cut him off to say. “The reason Lee terminated her was because she was on the phone in his office with one of her friends, who’s also likely a bitch, and she was talking trash about Jules when Jules was in the hospital.”
His jaw got hard.
I kept at it.
“Lee was not down with that so he got shot of her ass. And, heads up, you might wanna check your phone logs because they have cameras everywhere at Nightingale Investigations, and she was caught catting with her friends repeatedly.”
“Noted,” Ren murmured.
“And last, remember when I told you I wouldn’t hesitate to get into a bitch smackdown with a sister who was a bitch?” I asked.
He bit his lip and I knew it was to stop both from quirking, but I ignored that and he stopped biting his lip to answer, “Yes.”
“Well, just saying, she even looks at me funny, in your reception area you’re gonna have a knockdown, drag out, hair pulling, nails scratching bitch smackdown catfight that might be so extreme, it’ll make the papers.”
“That’s noted, too,” Ren replied immediately, but now his lips were actually quirking.
“I’m not being funny,” I informed him. “She already gave me a nasty look and nasty words and told me since you were taken, her only hope was Dom, who everyone knew had a wandering eye.”
All amusement fled his face and his eyes narrowed.
Finally.
“She said that?” he asked.
“Absolutely,” I answered.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
“You got that right,” I told him.
“What nasty words did she give you?” he asked, and I felt his vibe beginning to weigh down the air, but I didn’t care. If that meant Dawn would be out of his office, life and my life—forever—I’d bear the beast.
“She said she heard I had a thing with you and she prayed it wasn’t true, but God doesn’t listen to her.”
His jaw got hard again, this time the muscle jumping there. He looked toward the wall that separated his office from reception, murmuring, “I’ll check the phone logs.”
“You might want to check company email, too,” I advised.
He looked back at me and nodded.
“Now that I’ve had a run-in with Dawn, I need coffee and donuts about seventeen thousand times more than I normally need coffee and donuts,” I shared.
The mood in the room shifted. His lips quirked again then he moved in to brush them to mine and let me go.
Ren saw to the coffees while I disbursed the donuts and after I’d snarfed down half of my Bavarian cream, he asked, “When’s your meeting with your brothers tonight?”
“Five thirty,” I answered through cream and dough.
He grinned as he watched me speak.
I took a swig of coffee and another bite.
Then he stated, “I’ll make a reservation for eight. Will that give you enough time to do that and get ready?”
Something hit me and I panicked.
He noticed it immediately. Then again, I’d stopped snarfing down my donut and froze, staring at him.
“Ally?” he called.
“Uh…” I mumbled.
Shit!
“What?” he asked.
“Well, um…” I started but trailed off.
His brows knit. “Is something the matter?” he asked.
Fuck. I had to tell him.
Whatever. We were living together. He’d find out eventually.
“It’s Monday,” I declared.
“Yeah,” he prompted.
“Monday night is Castle night,” I told him, and his head jerked.
“It’s what night?”
“Castle night.”
“What the fuck is that?” he asked.
“It’s a TV show,” I answered, and he blinked. I hurried on. “If we do a late dinner, we might not be home in time to watch it.”