“Different.”
“Different good or different bad?”
“Just different.” I don’t expand.
“Great, good chat as always,” he says sarcastically as Cole’s cell phone alerts him to a text, his eyebrows rising as he reads the screen. “Gotta go, Libby needs to talk to me about something.”
“I’m sure she does,” I drawl.
“We’re not like that.”
“Because she doesn’t want you to be, or you don’t?” I think Cole has a thing for Libby, although he’ll never admit it.
After Cole’s ex cheated on him with his best friend, he has found it challenging to find love again or trust anyone. I was hopeful he would find someone when he joined some dating apps, but he’s been on many dates though, and still hasn’t found what he’s looking for.
A sly grin curls Cole’s lips. “If you won’t answer my questions, then I won’t answer yours. And if Sapphire is as hot as Max says she is, then would you mind if I ask her out on a date?”
“Get out of my office.” I point to the door.
That playful grin of his widens. “Message received loud and clear.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t need to.” He leaves my office laughing, sounding smug as hell.
“Asshole,” I whisper under my breath at how observant my little brother is.
5
ELI
“Hey.”
Startled by the voice that interrupts me from adding yet another new clause to the Morgan & Spencer merger that I can’t get to align with the other margins, I lift my head from the drafted document to be met by an instant ray of sunshine.
“Sapphire.” I say her name aloud and flick my attention between Tessa’s desk and Sapphire.
“She’s not there again.” She should have just said “she can’t save you” because that’s what it sounded like.
Where is Tessa when I need her? “I can see that.” Or I would have heard her and prepared myself for yet another collision with mayhem disguised as grace.
“Can I come in?”
At least she asked this time.
I nod and hold my breath for a beat as she steps into my office, filling it with the same perfume she was wearing last night. It smells like lavender, with a hint of sweetness and spice, a bit like her.
Today, she’s wearing a vintage-style cream dress with flowy sleeves and a pair of caramel-colored cowboy boots. Her colored hair looks brighter in the daylight as the sun reflects off it through the window, making it shimmer and framing her face perfectly.
“I brought you donuts.” She lifts a candy-pink-and-white-striped box in her hands, then places it on my desk.
Of course she brought rainbow-iced donuts; what other kind are there in her technicolor world?
“Why?” My question is blunt.
“As a peace offering.” She lets out a heavy sigh before adding, “I don’t think we got off to a good start last night.” Her voice wavers, cracking at the end.
She’s nervous.