you think I’m leaving because some little twerp with his picture in a dollar-store frame wants it so,
you’re mistaken.”
She huffed and shifted on her feet. “Lucian, I have work to do—”
“Is that his office?”
She turned and glanced at the door. “What? Yes.”
“Why were you in his office?”
“He had to go over some things with me.”
“Like?”
“My receipts. Lucian, I really need to get back to work.”
That was his little worker bee, always so concerned about keeping her job. She really was an
admirable employee. However, she was also vulnerable because of her age and the drive to maintain
her job.
“Does he ever request the other employees join him in his office?”
Her fingers pinched the bridge of her nose. They were manicured, but no longer polished the way
they had been when she’d stayed at the hotel and had the use of the salon. He’d make her an
appointment.
“I don’t know. I need to go see what he wants now. I’ll call you when I’m done working.” She
turned and disappeared through the back door without giving him a chance to reply. Dismissed indeed.
He had a moment of what the hell is happening to me as he stared at the nondescript door,
dumfounded.
He decided he’d wait. Let’s see how long Mr. Manager decides to monopolize his employee.
Lucian drifted to a display of rotisserie chickens that smelled surprisingly good. He waited for
several moments. And when the door finally opened, Evelyn marched out and made a beeline to the
registers on the opposite end of the store. There was no mistaking the irritation that set her shoulders.
His eyes narrowed as he placed his basket beside a tank of lobsters and adjusted his cuffs.
Walking over to the door he pressed through and found a cramped little storage room with a ratty
filing cabinet and the manager behind a beaten-down desk. The man’s mouth dropped open beneath
his mustache.
“May I help you?” Clearly shoppers were not permitted in this area.
Lucian took his time taking in the small space. The guy had pictures of himself on the wall
proclaiming he’d been employee of the month more times than any other. Instinct told him something
was off and his gut said it was more than simple territorial paranoia for Evelyn.
He brushed his thumb over the edge of a dusty crate. “Mr. Gerhard?” It was easy to get his name off
one of the many plaques on the wall.
“Yes?” The manager’s confusion to his presence showed signs of unease. It was a simple enough
task. Lucian was older, better dressed, taller, and unarguably more powerful. The manager was
outmatched and knew it, even if he didn’t know the game.
“I’m Lucian Patras.” There, that did it. Game on.
His brows shot over the dated frames of his glasses and he stood, instinctively offering the well-
known name the respect it deserved. He held out his hand. “Mr. Patras, well, what a surprise. I hadn’t
recognized you. Is there something I can do for you?”
Lucian kept his expression blank, but narrowed his eyes in a manner he knew could intimidate even
the most powerful man. Gerhard got the unspoken message and withdrew his proffered hand.
“I imagine you’ve worked quite hard to obtain your position here at Clemons, Mr. Gerhard. Did I
mention I know the Clemons family? They and the Patras family go back a long way. I’d hate to have
to contact them beyond the courteous Christmas card.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” the manager said, his posture protective.
Lucian eyed the watermark on the ceiling with disinterest. “Evelyn Keats is someone very special to
me. I understand that she’s new here and may require direction as she becomes oriented with her new
duties, but do not make the mistake of taking advantage of her work ethic.” He met the other man’s gaze, which was magnified by his thick glasses. “I look out for her and will continue to do so. I want
to make sure she’s being treated the same as the other employees. She may appear to be just another
clerk here, but I assure you, she has an arsenal of attorneys at her disposal if, say, an employer were to overstep the bounds of proper management. Are we clear?”
The man swallowed noticeably. “Perfectly.”
“Very well. I’ll continue with my errand.” He turned and exited the office, sweeping up his basket
and making his way to the registers.
***
Lucian approached the hostess’s station and was recognized immediately. “Mr. Patras, lovely to see
you again. Your party is waiting right this way.”
He followed the young blonde to his usual table and recognized Jamie. Confusion knit his brows
when he noted his friend’s scowl. The hostess left them as he settled across from Shamus. “What’s
wrong?”
“You’ll see,” Jamie grumped and Lucian turned just as his sister slid into the seat beside Jamie.
His gaze widened for a split second. “Antoinette, I wasn’t expecting you.”
His sister made a great show of hauteur as she adjusted her napkin and raised her chin. “Lucian,
always a pleasure. No Evelyn this evening?”