“Our sister should be here,” Rock continued, nodding toward Charlie, “but she’s still missing. That’s another puzzle we need to solve.”

“We won’t solve it,” Reid said. “Not unless she wants to be found.”

Silence for a few deafening seconds.

Then Lacey spoke up. “That’s Rock’s assistant, Jarrod, and, Reid’s assistant, Terrence.”

Rock had inherited Jarrod from my father, and Reid had always hired a male assistant. My younger brother was a known womanizer, and my father had taught him to always hire males for positions of trust to avoid any sexual tension and possible claims of harassment. Reid followed the advice, but not because our father had dictated it. He’d actually hired Terrence because he was the best qualified. At least that was what he said. I couldn’t care less, frankly.

I didn’t have an assistant because I didn’t actually work here. This was a meeting to discuss the fallout from our father’s murder.

I stayed quiet in these meetings. Right now, though, I was nursing a huge hard-on for the hottie with the light-brown ponytail. She looked adorably uncomfortable in her suit and stilettos. This was a girl who preferred yoga pants and tank tops, I could tell.

Her cheeks were painted a rosy pink that was natural, not the product of makeup. She had a fresh look that I found very inspiring. Most of her features, by themselves, were merely average—average-sized eyes, average nose, average chin, average light-brown hair. But her fine bone structure took all those average parts and put them together in a uniquely beautiful way, drawing attention to the silvery radiance of her irises. I could make her image come alive on canvas. Show the world what true beauty was, for she shined beauty not just from the outside, but from the inside as well. Through her appreciation of the finer things in life.

She appreciated art, and by only knowing that about her, I already knew so much.

She probably appreciated music, gourmet food, fine wine…

I wanted to know.

I wanted to get inside her head and find out everything about Miss Charlene Waters.

Shit. She was a “miss,” wasn’t she? Luckily, she was holding her phone and typing into it as Lacey spoke, so I discreetly checked out her left hand. No wedding ring.

Thank God.

Not that I was interested.

Except that I was.

I was so bad with women, and getting involved with someone who worked for the company wasn’t the smartest path.

But damn. I wanted this woman. Right here. Right now. If I could grab her and fuck her right on the oblong conference room table, I would.

How to approach her?