I'd always had a weakness for white roses.
There were any number of small chairs and couches scattered throughout the large, airy room, but Isadora had guided me to a round, fat chair, practically the size of a small pond, and big enough for both of us. Probably two more. A fifth if we wanted to snuggle.
That had been two hours ago and I was still sitting in that chair, comparing the list she’d given me with the newsletter I was compiling. The last one had indeed been for rich assholes. Even I'd recognized those names.
This one seemed to be geared toward the opposite. Wary single moms loathe to accept anything from anybody.
I finished that one up just as she managed to compile a somewhat neat stack of information. I looked at it with a combination of trepidation and chagrin.
“I think what you need,” I said suddenly. “Is to learn how to say no.”
Immediately, I realized I probably shouldn't have said it. What if she was touchy and took it as judgmental? What if she was whiny?
But Isadora threw back her head and laughed. “I know, right? It’s always
somebody needs to do it and nobody else wants to say yes
.”
Looking away from that engaging smile, I focused on the notes in front of me. Handwritten notes, printed interviews, discs with yet more information, graphs, articles, pictures and a dozen other things that needed to be included in a dozen other newsletters.
Over the past few hours, I’d learned enough to realize I needed to stop making snap judgments. It was a flaw of mine. A flaw I hated in others, but there I was, doing it far too often.
It was sad.
I generally only did it with people like Isadora, the privileged and wealthy. My own kind of people, I gave the benefit of the doubt.
Isadora spoke up, interrupting my mental reverie. “What time did you say the first newsletter would go out?”
“About one this afternoon.”
All in all, that one had been the easiest to do. Cleverly and cleanly written, the author poked fun at more than a few of the well-known families here in the city.
Arching an eyebrow at her, I smiled. “You afraid we’re going to get mobbed? These streets are quiet. You’ll hear them coming long before they get here.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well,
one
of them lives here.”
“Oh?” I gave her a questioning look. Mr. Findley hadn't said anything about a husband.
“Yep. My brother.”
She slid her legs off her side of the chair and rose, arching her arms back high over her head and stretching. It brought her shirt up over her belly, revealing a flat stomach with skin the right kind of pale. I was the other kind of pale, the kind that came with my red hair. My brothers used to say I could cause traffic accidents if I left too much skin exposed. I didn't even freckle in the sun. I just went all lobster crispy.
Then I processed what she said. “That could get…interesting.” If her brother was anything like mine, I could only imagine how he'd take it. “What do your folks think about this?”
For the first time, her bright smile dimmed. “They’re gone,” she said softly.
She moved from the couch to stand in front of the fireplace with its candle-scape insert in the hearth and the pictures that dotted the mantle. She took one down and turned, displaying it in front of her. It revealed a pretty little girl, a handsome young man who looked to be in his late teens. There were two adults, each of them looking to be in their mid-forties. All of them looked happy.
“They died in a car wreck when I was seven. This picture was taken just a couple of months before it happened.” She turned it back to her, lifting it to trace their faces with her hand. “My brother raised me. I barely remember them.”
I went to apologize, to say something. I didn’t even know what. I couldn't imagine my life without either of my parents, much less having lost both of them at the same time, and as a child.
Before I could figure out what I should say, she put the picture down and clapped her hands. “Hey, you know what? I’m starving. You wanna order some pizza?”
***
I'd decided this job could work.
I also thought I might even grow to like the somewhat ditzy, but decidedly adorable Isadora.
She was smart as hell, but couldn’t focus worth a damn. I found myself psychoanalyzing her all the time and asking strange little questions that were just a little too nosy, but I couldn’t stop myself. She was fascinating.
She didn’t seem to notice or care, and I was trying to work up the courage to ask yet more questions when we heard a door slam and loud male voices followed.
“Mr. Lang!”
“Okay, Doug. Who the
fuck
is this Toni person my sister hired? I thought I hired you all to watch over her, not let her bring strange guys into the house.”
“Guys?”
I mouthed to Isadora.
But she didn’t notice. She had her face buried in her hands and was shaking her head, though I couldn't tell if she was upset or trying not to laugh.
A shadow appeared in the doorway and I instinctively stood. She caught my hand and looked up at me with a pleading expression on her face.
“Please don’t let him scare you off.”
Scare me off? I snorted. As if. I squeezed Isadora’s hand.
“I’m fine,” I assured her.
Then I turned towards the door and met the hard green eyes of a man who was seriously,
seriously
beautiful. His hair was the sort of black that would almost look blue in some light, and he had the sort of features that made heads turn.
He was also staring at me as though I was something he’d found on the bottom of his shoe. No amount of good looks could make up for that.
“Who the fuck are you?” he demanded.
I almost snapped back at him, but, instead, I decided to go a different route and make him feel like the asshole he appeared to be.
“Hi.” I gave him a winning, but fake, smile. “I'm Toni. And you are?”
Chapter 3
Ash
I’m not a patient man.
I wasn't one by nature, and my life didn't allow for the time or luxury of patience. It didn't allow for time for much of anything.
So when I demanded to know who in the fuck Tony was, I wanted a damn answer right then.
I got one, too.
Granted, it wasn’t the answer I was expecting.
I’m Toni. And you are?
Bemused, I looked down at the small hand held out to me, and then lifted my eyes to stare into a pair of smoky blue eyes so gorgeous that I imagined I could lose myself in them. I let myself entertain that fanciful thought for maybe ten seconds, and then I cut it off. No point in going there.
“Again.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I narrowed my eyes at her. “Who the fuck are you?”
Nobody was supposed to be allowed inside, especially allowed inside with my little sister, unless I
cleared it. Everyone on my staff knew that.
Some people were going to find themselves without a job today.
“I’m Toni,” she repeated.
She blinked at me, somehow managing to look completely innocent and confused, but I had the damnedest feeling she was laughing at me and that pissed me off even more.
“Toni Gallagher.” She offered with another smile that I was sure was fake. “
Exclusive
sent me. Isadora wanted an assistant, and I was the one best suited to her and the position.”
“I'm the one who decides who is best suited to work for my sister,” I said, walking towards her until we were only inches apart.
I waited.
I had a good fifteen inches on her, and I knew how to use my height – hell, my everything – to intimidate anyone.
She just peered up at me, raised an eyebrow and came back with the last thing I'd expected. “Do you really think you’re the best person to decide who should work for your sister? She is an adult.”
I gaped.
And Toni Gallagher just stared at me, head cocked to the side as she tapped a finger against lips slicked the color of merlot. I hated that shit, but I found myself craving a taste just then. And I didn't want it from a glass.
She continued, “I mean, do you even know what’s going on in her life?”
“I…what?”
Thrown off track, and still thinking about that damn intriguing mouth, I planted my hands on my hips and glared down at her. She shifted her weight, and braced her own hand on her hip.
“She needs somebody who knows what’s going on in her life now. What foundations and organizations does she belong to? What she's interested in. Do you know any of that?”
“Again,” I said, biting the word off as I glared at the tiny, irritating woman in front of me. She looked like the kind of person who'd break in a stiff wind, but I was quickly seeing that her appearance was deceiving. “I'm the one who decides who gets hired in this household.”
That tone of voice usually had only one of two responses – abject terror or abject humility. Often it was both. I was the heir to two of the oldest families in the country, and one of the richest bastards in said country. And I was a bastard in the figurative sense. I made no bones about it. I pushed until I got my way, but more often than not, I didn’t have to push, because people gave me what I wanted.
I was a Lang.
So it shocked the hell out of me when Toni pursed her lips and gave me a slow, thorough study, her eyes going from my head to my feet and back again. It took more self-control than I liked to keep from fidgeting under that intense gaze.
“Does this…” She waved her hand at me. “…really work?”
The question was so unexpected, I answered honestly, “Yes.”
“I thought so.” She shrugged. “It won’t work on me. I grew up with four older brothers who always thought I should do what they told me. It doesn't work with them and it won’t work with you.”
I had the strange and sudden thought that this had to be some sort of joke. People didn't talk to me like that. Certainly not people who wanted to be employed.
Then, without so much as a dismissive glance, she turned to Isadora. “I was thinking about how we can get all the information up at the top of your newsletter. Half the time, people only skim...”
I shot a look at Isadora.
My sister was grinning at me. “Before we go any further,” she deftly cut into what Toni was saying. “I should make formal introductions. Ash, this is my amazing new assistant, Toni Gallagher. Who, as you can see, is not a man. Toni, I'd like you to meet my big brother, Ashford Lang. You can call him Ash.”
I scowled. No, she most certainly could not. “Employees address me as Mr. Lang.”
Isadora ignored my comment and continued, her smile tightening the way it did when she was upset. “She’s right, by the way. You can’t possibly decide who'd be best for me to work with because you're more interested in having people hover over me than talk to me.”
There was a hint of displeasure, maybe even hurt, in her voice, but she looked away before I could figure out just what I’d seen. Scowling, I went to jam my hands into my pockets before I stopped myself. I wasn’t in the jeans I preferred to wear when I wasn’t working. I was still in the suit I’d put on that morning, and tailored suits weren’t exactly designed for men to shove their hands into the pockets. Ruined the lines.
Focusing back on what Isadora said, I slid Toni a look.
No, she definitely wasn't a man.
I gave myself a mental shake. I didn’t think she was amazing either. People around my sister needed to be scared of me, not dismiss me like I didn't matter.
“We’ve talked about this,” I told Isadora as she turned her attention back to Toni.
Neither of them said anything to me as Toni went back to explaining whatever idea it was that she'd had. I waited a few more moments, expecting them to draw me into their conversation. People did that. People wanted my involvement. They wanted my input. They wanted my approval, and more often than not, my money.
Isadora didn’t need the money, but she usually sought my approval. I'd raised her since our parents died and we had an odd combination of a brother-sister, father-daughter relationship. In some ways, I was the only parent she'd ever know. But she didn't even look my way.
After a few more moments of being ignored, I turned on my heel and stalked out of the room. I was going to have to dig into this woman’s background. Since I hadn’t hired her, I had no idea what kind of person she was or what kind of skeletons she was hiding.
As I came out of the parlor, I caught Doug’s eyes and indicated with a jerk of my head that he was to follow me. He gave me a differential bob of his head, but it didn’t do shit to cool my temper. Once we were inside the large office that took up much of the southeast corner of the family home, I turned on him, needing to take my frustration out on someone.
“You’ve got less than five minutes to convince me why I shouldn’t fire you.”
He didn't even flinch. “Miss Isadora gave me the name of her new assistant just this morning.” His gaze flicked to my desk. “Once she told me she’d hired somebody without speaking with you first, I started the background check. I sent you an email as well, but you must not have received it.”