Page 56 of Bulletproof
Her eyes got big. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. You’re his cousin?”
“Brother.” I grinned, stepping around her. “Is he in his office?”
“Yes, but he’s with Brett, his other assistant.”
Other assistant? I had no idea he had two. He’d never had two before.
“That’s okay,” I said, walking down the hall toward his door.
“I really think—”
But I stopped when I heard the yell. So did she. And it wasn’t Dane who had raised his voice. He didn’t do that. Not at work. Never at work. He was far too disciplined and professional for that. It was, I suspected, the aforementioned Brett.
“Oh God,” she groaned, “I knew he was going to overreact.”
I waited with Brooke, giving her time to figure out what she wanted to do. From the wringing hands, lips pressed tight together, and huffs of breath, I was thinking she was at a loss. I let it go for as long as I could, probably a good few seconds longer, but I was bored, and so I leaned in and opened the door. I breezed in and smiled.
“Brooke!” Dane said sharply. He was facing away from her and me, toward the window. “How many times have I—”
“Hey,” I greeted him.
When he turned, I saw him take a breath and noted the fall of his shoulders. He was relieved to see me—that was clear.
“Jory,” he murmured.
My eyes went to the guy I had never seen before in my life, who was, at the moment, putting things on Dane’s desk—a BlackBerry, keys, a fob, and three different credit cards. I understood at once.
“Listen,” the man began. “I’m sorry I yelled, Dane, but I—”
“Thank you, Mr. Taylor. That will be all.”
The tall, handsome man took a shuddering breath. “I just need to explain what—”
“Thank you, Mr. Taylor,” Dane repeated, his voice like an arctic blast.
He turned, looked at me for the very first time, and then walked toward Brooke.
Brett Taylor took a breath as he faced Brooke. “If you could have my things sent to—”
“He fired you?” She was aghast. “Over a dinner? He fired you for taking clients to dinner?”
“Don’t,” I cautioned her fast. Her eyes flicked to mine. “Just don’t say anything.”
“Ms. Jessup.”
I winced because she had been Brooke a moment ago, just as I was sure he had been Brett, not Mr. Taylor, yesterday. Dane always added the honorifics in front of your name when you were no longer in his employ.
“You may also see yourself out. Please leave all possessions of Harcourt, Brown, and Cogan on your desk and report, along with Mr. Taylor, to Melody Bruce’s office on LaSalle at Watts and Gardner. I’ll call ahead and make sure she sees you promptly. Mr. Taylor has the address.”
“What?”
“Thank you, Ms. Jessup.”
“Oh, no, Dane, I—”
“Thank you,” he said, using his clipped tone, which I had never been a fan of.
He turned his back on both of them; all you saw was the way the expensive wool suit looked like it had been handmade for him to cut across his broad shoulders, wide back, and narrow waist. You noticed his height, the way the jet-black hair tapered to above his collar and how glossy it was as it caught the light. He was perfect and cold, and the waves of anger were flowing off of him.
