She rolled her eyes. “I’ll take that as a no. Have a good night.”
He was out of his chair and around his desk before she’d taken one step back to the doorway. “What’s going on with you? What did I do to piss you off?” Because he was racking his brain and he couldn’t think of anything that made any kind of sense.
“Nothing, sir. I’m just—”
“Cut the shit, Lucy.”
Anger flared in her dark eyes but she seemed to rein it in. “I’m sorry if I have an inappropriate attitude. I’ll make sure to—”
“No, you’re not sorry. What the fuck is going on?” he demanded, practically shouting. He was close to kissing her senseless. Anything to get a reaction out of her.
She didn’t flinch at his show of temper, something he adored about her. Just put her hands on her hips and glared up at him. “Am I going to get fired for being honest with you?”
“No. And when are you not honest?” One of the reasons why she was such a good fit for Viktor and him was that while she was almost always in a good mood, she also didn’t put up with their shit. And she wasn’t afraid of them. They’d had assistants in the past who jumped anytime they gave an order. It was ridiculous.
“You are such a dick sometimes! I get why you act that way in business, because you and Viktor have built something amazing. But I overheard your conversation with Viktor an hour ago.” She was fuming and he didn’t understand why.
“So?” He hadn’t shut the door to Viktor’s office when he’d gone in there. The conversation hadn’t been confidential. Viktor was going out with Dominique tonight and Abram was worried about him getting hurt. That woman might have an ulterior motive, for all he knew. It didn’t matter that Viktor was his older brother—Abram wouldn’t let anyone hurt him. Viktor had gone through enough over the years.
“Oh my God, I want to smack you. ‘Do not go out with her, Viktor,’ ‘She is not the type of woman for you,’ ‘She just wants to hurt you.’” She repeated some of the things he’d said to his brother, her impression of him mocking.
He blinked. “Is that supposed to be me?”
“It’s what you sound like. Why don’t you want your brother to be happy? I’ve heard you say the same kinds of things to him before!” She stomped a heel, as if she was going to advance on him. Which he found insanely hot. “What kind of woman do you think is right for him? Because I did a little research and before you get on your high horse, just don’t. I know you have files on tons of people,” she continued before he could respond, and there was nothing to say anyway because it was true. “I knew she looked familiar so I made a call to a friend at Red Stone.”
He blinked again. “You did?”
“Of course I did. You’re my guys. I look out for both of you.” Before he could fully digest what she’d said, she continued, her rage against him clearly building. “She’s a freaking exemplary employee over there and a model citizen. They wouldn’t have hired her if she wasn’t. So what’s wrong with her? And why do you always tell your brother that a certain type of woman isn’t right for him? Do you mean women who aren’t escorts? Because that’s pretty shitty, Abram! He deserves more than an escort.”
His gaze narrowed. “You know about that?”
She rolled her eyes again, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Of course I know. I did my own research on both of you before I even applied here for a job. I’m not an idiot.” She poked him in the chest with a fingertip. “And I like him. He’s such a sweet man. Do you just not want your brother to be happy? Because I simply can’t believe you’d be that mean.”
He wrapped his hand around the finger she’d shoved in his chest and invaded her personal space. The urge to kiss her, to touch her, was overwhelming. The woman was an addiction and he’d never even tasted her. He backed her up until she was against the door. All he wanted to do was take her right up against it, to shove her skirt up and sink deep inside her. “Of course I want him to be happy. I just worry he’ll get his heart broken. He’s… It doesn’t fucking matter. He’s my brother. I get to worry about him! And it’s none of your business.” And he could not make himself let go of her hand.
“Fine. If it’s not my business, then this conversation is over!”
“It’s not over!” It could never be over with her. He was pretty sure she literally just meant the conversation, but something about her tone made him panic, as if she meant they were over. Even if there was no ‘they.’