“If you need to sit down, there’s a chair. I don’t want you to fall over and bleed on my desk,” she says as she pulls her hand from mine.

I’m sorry, but did she not just feel the earth stop moving?

I clear my throat and straighten my suit. My hair is cut short, and I can feel the cool air on the back of my neck just above my collar. I focus on that instead of the blood rushing to my ears.

“You’ll have to excuse Royce. We’ve been in the boardroom all day. I promised him lunch, and I knew that was the only way I could get you out of your office,” Henry says.

There’s a low-lying threat to his statement, and for half a second I think Pandora is going to challenge it.

“Fine, Casanova. But I get to pick the appetizers.”

They stare at one another, and for a moment I can picture them as children having this same discussion. Something green and angry rises in my chest at the banter these two have. Their inside jokes are irritating me and I feel excluded.

“Maybe I could have lunch one on one with Mrs.—” She snaps back to me with her deep blue eyes, and I correct myself. “Pandora. I think we’ve gone over enough for today, Henry. I can email you the rest of what we discussed, and I can handle the remainder here.”

There’s relief in his eyes as he smiles and shakes my hand. “Perfect. I’ll speak to you tomorrow,” he says, and nearly bolts out of the office before Pandora can protest.

“It’s hard to respect your boss when you saw him poop his pants when he was six.” She shrugs and grabs the bag hanging on the back of her chair. “Never work with family.”

The warning somehow makes the green-eyed monster in my chest calm down, and I finally have a better understanding of the situation.

“I didn’t realize you were related,” I say, following closely behind her.

“Most people here know. It’s hard for them not to since our parents all worked together, and we grew up basically like brother and sister.”

Her long dark red hair is pulled into a tight ponytail, and it swishes back and forth as she walks. Her petite frame is moving fast, and I have to speed up my steps to keep up with her. I also have to force myself not to stare at her round ass when we get on the elevator. She pushes the button for the lobby and puts her hands on her hips.

“How do you feel about tacos?” she asks without looking at me.

“Never met one I didn’t like,” I say with a smile.

She slowly turns her head to me, and there’s not a trace of humor on her face. When the elevator doors open, she slides on her sunglasses. “Watch yourself, Royce,” she says before she steps off, and I have to hurry to keep up.