Seth blinks at Lacey, her hands clasped to her chest, her face full of hope. Hope and what looks suspiciously like an idea he wants no part of.
He draws back distrustfully. “What?”
“You have to help me with the party.”
He scowls, the request landing like a grenade. “No fuckin’ way.”
She tilts her blond head. “You said you were staying.”
“Yeah, but not as your damn personal assistant.”
She harrumphs. With a flick of her hair, she turns her back on him and stalks to the door. “Fine. I’ll do it myself, then.”
Seth sighs, watching as Lacey bends at the waist, gripping the sides of the box. She wobbles and struggles like a newborn fawn as she tries to move the heavy box further into the apartment with an almost comical exaggeration of defiance.
He stands still, jaw clenching. Trying to resist. Trying not to help her stubborn, idiot self. But when she winces, letting out a little whimper of pain, he caves so damn fast it’s embarrassing.
“Goddamnit,” he says, hurrying to Lacey to gently move her out of the way. He lifts the box of linens with ease, setting them on top of the kitchen counter. He turns to her, quickly running his eyes over her to check for any injury. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”
“That’s why I need you.”
He groans. “Get someone else to help. That winter girl.”
“I can’t. No one at work can know I’m not one hundred percent.” She pounds a fist into her palm. “I need this account; anyone will pounce on it the moment I look weak.”
“Weak? It’s a party, Lacey, not brain surgery.”
Her lower lip pushes out.
Shit.
He’s an asshole. If anyone came along spouting shit about the Brothers Kincaid, he’d tell them to fuck right off.
Lacey’s gaze slides away from his. She rests a hand on top of the box of linens. “It’s Beverly Hills and it’s my job, Seth. It’s important. I’ve been working so hard for this promotion. This could derail my entire career. I can be replaced like that. And Autumn ...” She scowls. “That little bitch is just waiting for me to fuck up.”
“Whoa.” He stares. Impressed. Terrified. “Damn, tiger.”
“Please, Seth. It’s only for two days and then—” She sucks in a breath and doubles over in pain. Her hands clutch at her side. “Ow, ow, ow.”
Seth swears under his breath. He moves toward her, sliding a hand over her shoulder. “Easy. Just relax,” he says, not wanting her to get worked up, but it’s too late. Her face is pale, her eyes bright and sparkling, but determined. And that’s when he gets it. Really gets it.
With or without him, she’ll do the party. She’s Sal sister. Strong as hell. Of goddamn course she won’t quit.
Seth sighs in resignation. “Lacey, take a breath. I’ll help you.”
“You will?”
“I will.” His eyes drop to the box of linens. “So, what am I lookin’ at here?”
She inhales a breath, gathering speed, details. “It’s the wrong color. It has to be black. Pantone Color 19-4010, specifically. My Soul.”
He squints. “Looks black to me.”
“Well, it’s not, it’s blue.”
“Can’t we just use it?”
“Oh my God.” She rubs her temple. Gives him a withering look. “He’ll notice. Colin Cane notices everything.”