Her eyes narrowed. “Who are you?” she repeated with impatience.

“I’m Cora Branton, Jake’s new assistant,” I said briskly, trying to not let her rattle me.

“You call him Jake?” Her eyes were slits now and I wanted to tell her it was not a good look for her, but I swallowed the catty comment.

“Mr. Weston insisted. Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll check if he’s ready to see you?”

She drew herself up in exaggerated affront. “I do not need you to call. Jake is always happy to see me.”

Jamie was right. This woman was a piece of work. “I’m sure he will be ecstatic to see you.” That seemed to soothe her ruffled feathers. “But, I still need to check to make sure he’s not in the middle of something important.”

Instantly, she was all prickles and thorns again. “I am important! I am his amor.”

Don’t roll your eyes, Cora. “Ms. Oliveira, if you’ll just wait–”

But she was already at Jake’s door. Without even knocking, she barged in.

I stood up from my chair, but when there was no angry shout from Jake, I planted my butt back in my seat. The supermodel threw me a triumphant look over her shoulders before she shut the door.

I stared at the door for a long moment, battling the bizarre rush of emotions. If Jake was shallow enough to overlook her character flaws because she was beautiful, then maybe they deserved each other.

I shook my head at that thought. A few weeks ago, I would have said that the arrogant woman was a perfect match for His Exaltedness, but that had all changed. I hadn’t call Jake that nickname in weeks. He was still infuriating, but he didn’t deserve someone like Carolina Oliveira.

I refused to acknowledge the other emotion scratching at the edges of my consciousness. I rubbed my forehead. This morning was just all around shitty. My thoughts veered toward my fight with Marcus and I almost gave in to another bout of tears.

“So when are you going to let me take you out to lunch?”

I groaned at the sound of Troy’s voice. I so didn’t want to deal with him today and raised my head to tell him so.

“Hey, what’s wrong, Cora?” The look of surprise and compassion on his face drove away my irritation. Apparently, my face still showed the ravages of my crying jag.

I flapped my hand in dismissal. “It’s nothing.”

His lips thinned in determination. Marching behind my desk, he clasped my arm. “That’s it. You’re going to come to lunch with me and tell me all about it.”

“Troy! I can’t. I’ve got work to do!”

“It will be waiting for you in an hour.”

He snagged my purse and stuffed it into my arms and tugged me behind him. Unless I was willing to cause a scene and kick and scream, I felt helpless. I had to lengthen my stride or risk being dragged.

“What about Jake?” I gasped, desperate for an excuse to stop him.

“Jake, I’m taking Cora to lunch!” Troy bellowed and hustled me out of the office. I heard the faint sound of Jake stomping through the office, but we were already at the elevator, the doors sliding closed. The last thing I saw was Jake’s scowling face glaring at us.

“Oh God! He’s going to be so mad.”

“Fuck it! Why would he be mad? You obviously need a break and he can’t deny you a lunch hour.”

I wasn’t about to tell him his brother warned me to stay away from him. Jake was probably going to fire me for this.

Troy took me to a quiet Italian restaurant and got us a table in the back. Against my protests, he ordered us both glasses of wine and the house special.

“Railroading people is a Weston trait, I see,” I said dryly. Somewhere along the way, I had given in. I had no fight left in me today.

Not offended one whit by my comment, Troy responded mildly, “We Weston men have many wonderful and unique traits. And yes railroading is one of our more renowned talents.” His eyes widened as if he were sharing something worthy of awe.

To my surprise, a giggle escaped. Then I was full on laughing. It was a nice release after this morning’s build-up of negativity.

He grinned, his blue-green eyes dancing. “See, I knew I could cheer you up. So tell me all about it.”

I shook my head, a smile still on my lips. “Nothing to tell. Just a fight with my brother.” And an encounter with your brother’s lover.

“Yup, I know all about those. What was it about?”

I considered his offer for a moment, but I finally shook my head. “No, let’s not talk about it. It’ll blow over.”

“I may not look like it, but I’m a good listener.”

“I’m sure you are.” There was something very open and warm about the younger Weston brother that put me at ease. I touched his arm and smiled. “I appreciate the offer, but really, it’s just sibling stuff.”

He must have decided I wasn’t going to budge and nodded in understanding. “When Jake and I were kids, we fought over everything. I’m surprised my mom isn’t in an asylum. We drove her crazy with our antics.”

Jake was always so self-contained, it was hard to imagine him as a disobedient child. “Oh?” I raised my eyebrow in curiosity.

That was all the prompting Troy needed to tell me stories that had me in stitches. It made it hard to eat the scrumptious linguine, but somehow I managed to finish everything on my plate.

“Holy cow! Your parents are saints,” I gasped, holding onto my sore stomach.

“So they tell us every chance they get.” He ran his fingers through his golden hair, sending the strands in all directions. His full lips curved up mischievously and his blue-green eyes glinted with mirth.

I sighed softly. “You Weston men sure are pretty.”

I didn’t realize I said it out loud until Troy purred, “Oh, that’s good to know. I’ll make sure to pass on the compliment to Jake.”

My mouth flapped open and closed and my eyes rounded in horror. “No! Please don’t! I didn’t mean to say it out loud!” My fingers were claws digging into his arms.

Troy must have seen I was in a full-blown panic mode because he said soothingly, “Hey, calm down. I was just kidding.” He patted my hand. “Why are you so freaked out about a little harmless comment?”

“Jake would flip out if I’m not completely professional,” I confessed. “He fired his previous EAs because they were personally interested in him. Not that I am interested,” I hurriedly added, “but I don’t want my comment to be misconstrued.”

Disgust crossed his face. “Oh, Jake’s just wary because of that bitch, Sophia.”

“Who’s Sophia?”

He assessed my face for a moment before he lowered his voice. “She was Jake’s assistant a couple of years back. She was a barracuda. Despite Jake’s cool exterior, underneath he is a big softie. He never could resist a damsel in distress and Sophia Chandler played an Oscar-worthy role of a woman down on her luck.

First she claimed she didn’t have an apartment because her roommate’s boyfriend was moving in and they wanted their privacy. Since she wasn’t on the lease, she was essentially homeless. Jake fell for her lies and offered to put her up in a company condo. Then a supposed ex-boyfriend started stalking her so she clung to Jake like Velcro. Long story short, Jake spent a lot of time with her and he fell into a relationship with her. It was very short-lived because he realized she liked being a billionaire’s girlfriend more than she liked him. She tried to get him back, but he rebuffed her.

Then little things started to go awry with our business deals. Rivals had our proprietary information. We started to look into a possible leak when Sophia sued Jake for sexual harassment. He was furious, but he didn’t want any bad publicity for the company so the lawyers settled with her. Then we uncovered evidence that the bitch had been selling confidential information to our competitors. Apparently, she was willing to do whatever was needed to get her grubby hands on money, whether that was as Jake’s girlfriend or as a spy. But by the time we found out, she had already left the country. Jake blamed himself and even tendered his resignation to the board. Of course they refused.”