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It finally clicks. He’s offering me a way out of this awkward hole I’ve dug for myself. “Your office. Right.”
The corner of his mouth twitches as if with a private joke. “Follow me.” Gesturing in the opposite direction of AJ and the ballroom of applicants, he takes a few steps and then stalls, waiting.
“Uh … see you next week, Sloane?” AJ calls out.
Apparently not if he’s applying here. I toss a weak wave in his direction as I trail Ronan away. “You are literallyeverywheretoday, aren’t you,” I hiss the moment we’re out of earshot.
“I could say the same about you.” He skims the faces of people around us, as if looking for one in particular. “And you’re welcome.”
“For what?”
“For saving your ass before you got caught spying on your ex.”
My jaw drops. “I wasn’t here to spy on him!”
“Good, because that would have been humiliating.” Ronan swipes a key card that allows us through a set of glass doors and into a large office full of Wolf employees. We quickly veer down a hall.
“Where are we going?”
“To my office, like I said.”
I follow, secretly admiring his sleek stride, the graceful, confident way he moves. And here I thought he was appealing while half naked and sprawled on the sand but, no, no, no … business attire Ronan is like a luxurious present waiting to be unwrapped, especially when his clothes look tailor-made for his body and I know what’s hiding beneath. Well, noteverything.
I clear my throat to shake out the intrusive—and blush-inducing—thoughts. “What do you do here?”
“I’m the director of operations for facilities, grounds and, admin. As for what I do …” He pushes through a glass door, holding it open for me. The door shutters behind him. “I have no fucking clue.”
I snort at the unexpected candor. “How old are you?”
Ronan perches himself on the edge of his desk and crosses his arms. The material of his dress shirt stretches across his biceps, distracting me. “Is that polite to ask?”
“I think we’ve moved past polite.” Why does he seemsofamiliar? I’ve seen his face before, I’m sure of it.
“You’re probably right.” He studies me with amusement as he seems to consider his answer. “I’ll be twenty-seven in the fall.”
Five years younger than me. How does a person that young get promoted to a position this high? “Someone up top must have faith in you.”
“Yeah, well …” His green eyes drift over a framed photo of the Emerald Coast waters on the wall. There isn’t much to the office—a desk, a computer, a rack holding men’s dress clothes. Certainly no personality, and nothing that tells me who Ronan is. “I’ve questioned Henry’s sanity more than once, believe me.”
My eyebrows arch. “TheHenry Wolf gave you this job?”
“The one whose reputation you’re intent on smearing with your little art project? Yeah, him.”
“I have a right to protest.”
“If that’s what that is.” Ronan’s tone is dry. He’s hard to read. Is he mocking or teasing me?
“So, you guys are friends?”
“I wouldn’t call us that, no.” The sly smile curving Ronan’s lips is secretive. “Enough about me. Honestly, whatwere you thinking, coming here to hunt down your employees?”
“I was not …” My denial fades with a heavy sigh. “It was a stupid idea. And not that it matters, but it wasn’t mine. It was my twenty-one-year-old barista—oh, shit! Give me a sec.” Skye is likely freaking out, wondering where I’ve disappeared. I feel Ronan’s gaze on me as I quickly type out a text to her, telling her to meet me at her car.
With that done, I turn my focus back to him. “So, why’d the director of operations rescue the crazy rooster commune lady? You could have left me out there to disgrace myself.”
“Well, for one, I know why you came here. It must be a kick to your stomach to see the people you rely on abandoning you, especially at the start of your season.”
I swallow the flare of emotion, his words hitting deep.Abandoning. That’s the perfect word. “I guess I have you to thank for that.”