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“That’s fine.” I drum my fingers on my desk, still focused on Lena’s last-minute insubordination and my want-to-be assistant outside. “Once Tate connects, we’ll get started.”
As if saying his name summoned him, Tate dials in.
“Good morning, brothers of mine.” His overly bright tone grates on my nerves.
“How many coffees have you had to be so cheerful this early?”
“If you think my good mood is due to caffeine, then you’ve obviously forgotten how it feels to get lucky on a daily basis.”
“Good for you.” As happy as I am that he and Cole have settled down with the women they love, I could do without the constant reminders—and the needling about my disinterest in finding one of my own. I’ve been there, done that, and don’t intend to do it again.
“Who pissed in your cereal this morning?” Cole asks.
I find myself squinting at the door, as if that’ll somehow let me see through the heavy wood to what Chloe’s doing out there in her quest to prove herself.
Even if she all but begged for the opportunity, I should have stuck to my decision and gotten Sophie to show her out. But the way she looked up at me—with her jaw tilted in challenge, even as a hint of vulnerability shimmered in her eyes—had stopped me.
That whisper of fragility wrapped in determination tugged at the insides of my ribs in an unfamiliar way, making me say yes when I should have said no. When I should have ended things then and there, instead of dragging it out for an entire day.
I force my focus back to the conversation. “Sorry. Lena screwed up with her replacement, and now I have to find someone else.”
“That doesn’t sound like Lena,” Cole says. “How did she screw up?”
“She hired the only candidate I expressly told her not to.”
“Let me guess,” Tate drawls, his tone dripping with amusement. “She hired that little blonde you were rude to in the elevator.”
“I wasn’t rude.” The words come out with more bite than intended.
Tate laughs. “Yes, you were. Damn, Lena’s got a sense of humor.”
“Her sense of humor isn’t the issue,” I grumble. “It’s her ability to follow instructions that needs work.”
“So, what’s your problem with…” Cole trails off expectantly.
“Chloe.” I say her name reluctantly.
“What’s your problem with Chloe, then?”
“You saw her. She looks like she’s barely out of college.”
“And?” he asks.
Head lowered, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “And what?”
“And that seems like a spurious reason not to hire her if she’s competent.”
“She’s yet to prove that.”
“It sounds like you’re not going to let her prove it.”
My eye twitches and I shake my head. “We’ve gotten off track?—”
“You know,” Tate says, still too damn cheerful, “I think I like this girl. I haven’t seen you this flustered in a while.”
I glare at the screen of my phone, even though it’s not a video call. “I don’t get flustered.”
“No, you don’t.” His tone is suddenly contemplative, and I don’t like it.