I reported directly to Tom, which I didn’t think was appropriate, but he’d claimed a Lennox shouldn’t sit beneath anyone other than another Lennox. I had a feeling Dad might have agreed with him, so I went along with it.

“When you arrive, tell them to show you through to me, and if Ronan is busy then we’ll slot you in as soon as he’s free. Do you know where we’re located?”

“Yes.” My cheeks flamed as I realized this must be the woman I’d seen at the desk outside Ronan’s office yesterday. I also remembered what he’d said about making sure it wouldn’t happen again. “Um, does security know I’m coming?”

“Mr. King has given orders for them to let you through.” Her tone was amused. “You won’t have any problems. See you soon.”

I hung up and stared into space for a moment, trying to get my thoughts in order. Was this summons a positive sign or a negative one?

I stood and made my way down the corridor to Tom’s office, where I rapped softly on the door before entering.

“Oh sorry.” I came up short at the sight of an elegantly dressed older man sprawled in a chair opposite my brother. Adrian Petrov. One of my dad’s former business rivals, whom Tom seemed to be working with a lot lately. Rich as sin and creepy to boot. “I didn’t realize you had company.”

Was it too late to back out? Petrov made my skin crawl.

“Willow.” Petrov rose to his feet and extended a hand. I placed mine in his, expecting a handshake, but his damp lips touched my skin. I itched to snatch my hand back. When he finally released me, I didn’t dare wipe my hand on my skirt. Something told me that wouldn’t go over well. “You look especially lovely today.”

I glanced down at myself. Blue skirt, white blouse, and all the important bits covered. Nothing about the outfit warranted the lecherous gleam in his eye. “Thank you.”

I did not want to be polite to him, but his firm sent us clients when they didn’t have the capacity to handle their cases, so we owed him.

“Adrian, please,” Petrov said.

I glanced at Tom, who watched the exchange with interest. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

Tom ran a hand through his ruffled gold hair—a motion that had caused dozens of women over Chicago to swoon—and nodded. “Excuse us for a minute, Adrian.”

Tom stood, his rangy frame rising to a height somewhere over six feet, and strode around the desk. He cupped my elbow and guided me out of the office, closing the door behind him.

“What is it?”

“Ronan King’s assistant just called,” I said. “He wants me over there ASAP.”

Tom frowned. “Asshole. He’s playing power games. Making a Lennox run around after him because he has leverage on you.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not as though I can argue with him. I’ll be gone for a while, but hopefully not too long.”