Page 45 of Boss of the Year

“I can certainly manage that.”

A silence fell between us, thick as fog. I continued running the potatoes over the paper-thin blade of the mandolin, feeling his eyes on me. He just sat there. Watching.

I was about to start chopping rosemary when he spoke suddenly, almost like we were in the middle of another conversation.

“About Saturday night.”

My knife stilled. So, there it was. “Mr. Lyons?—”

“I told you to call me Lucas.”

I took a deep breath. I was the granddaughter of Sofia Zola, the most imperious tongue in Belmont, who had talked down gangsters and butchers alike. I would not let Lucas Lyons intimidate me. I wouldnot.

“Lucas,” I corrected when I had caught my breath again. “We don’t need to discuss it. You apologized. I left. We can both agree that what happened at the party was a mistake.”

His stoic if dark expression shifted. “A mistake.”

“Yes.” I started chopping the rosemary a little too finely. Any more, and it was going to create dust. “You clearly didn’t mean anything by it?—”

“I didn’t.”

He spoke in statements, but somehow, they bore the weight of questions.

I paused again and looked up. “No. You didn’t.”

Once again, a storm seemed to brew in the back of that calm expression. He didn’t argue. But did he want to?

I returned to my herbs. “Besides that, I work for you. It would be inappropriate to?—”

“Goddamn, it smells good in here. Ondine, what are you—oh, hey, Marie, what are you doing in here?”

Lucas and I both jumped, then turned to find Daniel sauntering into the kitchen. At just shy of six in the morning.

What was going on today?

He’d clearly just gotten up, wearing linen pants and a thin white T-shirt that clung to his chest. His golden hair was artfully tousled, stubble gilded the edges of his jaw, and his smile was lazy and warm as he caught my eye.

I looked down at my pristine white chef’s coat that I’d brought with me from Paris. “I work here. Remember?”

At the counter, Lucas buried his face in his hands. “Christ, Daniel.”

Daniel, however, just looked charmingly puzzled. “That’s right. Jeez, would you believe I forgot already?” He pretended to knock on his head like a door. “Hello, anyone in here?”

He laughed at his own joke, and I couldn’t help but chuckle with him. His grin was as infectious as always, and who didn’t love a man who could take a joke?

Lucas blinked at his brother. “You’re up early. Before eleven.”

Daniel snagged a peach from the basket meant for the breakfast spread and took a cheeky-grinned bite. “If you can believe it, I just got in. Had to change out of my tux after Freddie soaked the damn thing in champagne last night.” He leaned toward me. “You ever been to The Key, honey?”

I ducked my head back to my herbs. “Never heard of it.”

“That’s a shame. I should take you there sometime. You’d love it.”

“I would?”

Maybe Daniel knew me better than I thought, if he was willing to suggest something like that.

“You were out all night?” Lucas’s jaw clenched. “You’re supposed to be meeting with Senator Hubbard about?—”