His sister had always wanted a dog. She would have been happy with any pet, really. But their parents had never allowed it. When he was younger, Luke assumed it had something to do with keeping Pen safe. Her immune system had been so fragile then, there was a lot of stuff that wasn’t allowed. Eventually, he realized the truth. His parents simply didn’t feel like dealing with it.

Luke shoved the unpleasant memories away and tried to focus on the meeting. But as his boss waxed on about how this resort was her passion project, Luke’s thoughts drifted. Pen’s birthday was next month. He should see what kind of dog she might like. Something small. Maybe like one of Mrs. W.’s corgis. A burst of applause sent the pack into another yapping frenzy. He grimaced. Maybe not.

Mrs. W. stepped aside to let Penelope take over. Unlike the rambling jumbled word soup of their boss’s speech, Pen was brief and concise. She’d often run morning meetings with the staff before, but this time his tech-averse sister even had a PowerPoint review of the daily schedule of activities. She was wrapping up the meeting with a reminder about performer expectations when Luke spotted a thatch of artfully mussed dark hair in the back of the room.

Speak of the manscaped devil.

Luke slipped past the clumps of actors lingering to chat and cornered Zach in the employee kitchen. “Brennan.”

“O’Neal.” Zach parroted Luke’s serious tone.

“You’re late.”

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” he asked, filling a sports bottle from the water cooler.

“You missed the meeting.”

“A tragedy. Whatever shall we do?”

Luke clenched his jaw, working to keep his temper in check. “Where were you?”

Zach took his time squirting water into his mouth before replying, “Around.”

“‘Around,’ huh?” Luke leaned back against the counter. “Could you be a little more specific?”

“Relax. I was at the gym. Never miss a Monday,” Zach said, a douchey grin accompanying that douchey expression. He passed an assessing glance over Luke. “I’m guessing you’ve missed a few, though.”

Zach lifted his arm to chug some more water, and Luke swore the guy was flexing on purpose. He crossed his own admittedly much less impressive arms and considered giving the bulkier but shorter man a demonstration of Newton’s second law of motion. He might not have the power, but he had the reach.

“What’s going on in here?” Penelope demanded, appearing in the kitchen. “Is something wrong?”

“Nope.” Zach flashed her an easy grin.

She turned to Luke, crossing her arms and mirroring his stance.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he agreed, relaxing. “Zach was just leaving. Weren’t you, Zach?”

“Yep. Gotta get downstairs.” He wiggled his eyebrows and did something debatably obscene with the water bottle. “I have a breakfast date with my new friend, Bridget.”