The boxes I’d packed up at the old office sat in the corner. Might as well at least make this seem like my office. I ripped the tape off one box with a letter opener I found in the top drawer of my desk.

The ding of my phone interrupted my task. A text from Lacey.

We’re meeting now. Come to the conference room.

Great. Where the heck was the conference room? I’d need a pad of paper and some pens. Where were they?

No worries. I’d take notes on my phone and figure the paper and pen thing out later. I still had no idea where the conference room was, though.

I raced out of the office, nearly losing my footing as one stiletto heel caught in the short pile carpeting. I held back a damn. Probably not a good idea to curse the first day on the job.

I bothered the first person I saw, a young man in a suit. “Excuse me, but this is my first day. Could you tell me where the conference room is?”

“Which one?”

Which one? I had no freaking idea. “The one where Rock Wolfe and his brothers are?”

“Probably their private conference room. Down the hallway to your right. The door should be open if they’re expecting you.”

“And if it’s not?”

“Then enter at your own peril,” he said ominously.

Not that he’d freaked me out or anything. I headed down the hall and turned right. The door, thankfully, was open.

I stepped inside and immediately met a dark gaze.

The artist from the lobby sat at one end of the conference table, flanked by his brothers.

Roy Wolfe. Of course. He was an artist, but was usually photographed wearing jeans and a T-shirt, his hair unbound and flowing over his shoulders. I’d seen him once before, at the reading of Derek Wolfe’s will. Why that fact hadn’t registered this morning in the lobby, I had no idea.

Yeah, I did. I’d been captivated by both him and the painting—so captivated that I was seeing him for the first time.

His lips turned upward ever so slightly.

And my pulse raced.

2

Roy

So the hottie from the lobby was Lacey’s assistant. Right, I remembered her now.

Which meant I couldn’t pursue her, of course. Not that I would have anyway. I wasn’t the pursuing type. My quick one-nighter with a server at a strip club in Montana a little over a week ago had been a fluke. That wasn’t me.

“Hey, Charlie,” Lacey said. “Everyone, this is my assistant, Charlene Waters. She goes by Charlie.”

“Hi,” she said timidly.

“Welcome,” Rock said. “Don’t let these guys overwhelm you. That’s Roy next to me and Reid across from me.”

Reid and I stood.

“Nice to meet you,” Reid said.

I simply nodded.