I walk downthe hall with more confidence than ever. Living in the city is more exciting than I’d ever imagine it would be. Last night, Jax prepared a massive congratulatory dinner for completing my first day of work. I guess even overprotective big brothers have their perks now and then. I nearly chugged my weight in wine in celebration; I’m surprised I’m not clinging to the wall with a hangover. The only thing that would’ve made the night better was if Johnathan had stopped by. Not that I told my brother that. Knowing him, he’d have me shipped back home if he even caught a whiff of how I felt about his friend. Leave it to those big brother instincts to dampen a harmless crush.
After all, that’s all this is. Isn’t it? Nothing more has been shared between us but an extra-large sandwich. Well, since I got here anyway. My cheeks heat up, and I blush at the thought of my accidental touch at the restaurant. No, stop it. There’s not time for that. A guy from one of the offices looks up at me, and I wave as I walk past.
After yesterday’s massive cleaning spree, I feel like I’ve earned my right to be here. Not that anyone else would understand. It’s not every day you have to clean up the ghost of Frank Ronsberry.
“Fuck!”
Johnathan’s voice echoes through the entire floor, and I quicken my pace. A turn of the golden knob and I’m almost hit square in the face with a manilla folder.
“Shit!” Johnathan yelps. “Kylie. I’m so sorry. Please, come in.”
I shuffle a few stray papers at my feet over the threshold and close the door behind me. My heart sinks as I look around the office, papers and folders thrown around Johnathan in a new kind of chaos.
“What happened?”
“I’ve been up all night looking for something. An agreement,” Johnathan mumbles, sipping his coffee with a shaky hand as he squints at the papers gripped in the other. His usual demeanor has been replaced with a wild-eyed man in half a tuxedo. This was not the same Johnathan I left yesterday.
I cross through the mess toward my desk. “Are you okay?”
“Ha!” He laughs, a crazed look in his eye as he glances at me. “I’m doing fantastic.”
“Johnathan.”
He looks around the room and back at me, scratching his head. “I’m sorry. I know how hard you worked on this yesterday. And I just—”
“I don’t care about the mess,” I snap. “I care about what the fuck is going on with you.”
He blinks at me. “I’m—”
“Not fine,” I finish. “Look, I’m here if you want me as your assistant. But if this going to work, you’re going to have to trust me with a little more than your schedule.”
He stares at me, those lost swirls softening a bit. “You’re right.” He sighs, collapsing back into the sofa. He pats the cushion beside him with a heavy hand. “Come here. Someone other than me might as well know the truth.”
The truth? I abandon my purse on my desk and make my way over to him. He rubs his eyes as I make myself comfortable on the cold leather cushions. Has his father’s death finally sunk in? Maybe this is what Jax had meant by freaking out.
“Now what I’m about to tell you is strictly confidential,” Johnathan says. “Not even Jax can know about this.”
My heart flutters a little, and I nod. “You have my word.”
His hand falls from his eyes, and he looks at me. Even in his tired state he’s still as handsome as ever.
“When I talked to my dad before he died,” he starts, “he told me to keep safe. Something that he agreed to with Leonardo had him scared, but he died before he could tell me. I thought that I’d be able figure out what they agreed to, but so far, I haven’t found shit.”
I have no idea who Leonardo is, but the concern in Johnathan’s face explains enough. “Why didn’t you tell me yesterday? I could’ve helped—”
“I didn’t want you involved in any of this.” His eyes are sad yet sincere. “And I still don’t. Let’s just say Leonardo doesn’t have the best reputation. He’s been known to some as a very dangerous man, so whatever my dad was talking about has the potential to be a dangerous situation.”
“Oh, and you expected to find what you’re looking for with this kind of strategy?” I motion to the room. “Face it, you need my help.”
He shakes his head. “I won’t put my good friend’s kid sister in danger.”
“I’m not a little kid,” I fume. “Especially when it involves my work.”
Johnathan groans, internally at war as he looks away. Even this angry he’s as handsome as ever. I gently rest my hand on his. He squeezes it tightly, his thumb rubbing over my knuckles. Even in such a crazed state his touch is gentle. Every motion sends sparks through me as he continues to gaze out the window.
“I don’t want anything happening to you,” he says, voice low. “If you got hurt, I could never forgive myself.”
“Hey,” I say, squeezing his hand a little. “I’ll be fine. There’s a way for this work. But only if you want my help.”