Page 20 of Angel In Armani

“I’m not throwing stones,” Mal said. “But if it isn’t girl trouble, then what’s put the bug up your butt? Because Alex was just talking to you about TV licensing and you nearly took his head off.”

Had he? Fuck. He was more tired than he thought. He parked himself back in one of the chairs facing Alex’s desk. “I’m sorry. I need sleep.” He didn’t sleep on planes, and he’d gone straight into surgery and then come right on out to Staten Island for this meeting.

Alex regarded him, head cocked to one side. “Are you sure that’s it?”

“What else would it be?”

“I don’t know, but you’ve been in a mood ever since you got back from that party at Margot’s a couple of weeks ago.”

“Like I said. I’m tired. In case you hadn’t noticed, the schedule is kind of crazy around here.”

“I noticed,” Alex said. “And I’m sorry you got the short end of the stick with the travel. I’m trying to get everything else set up as fast as possible so I can get to Florida more often myself. But these things take time.”

Lucas nodded and dug his fingers into the muscles at the back of his neck. “I know.” Owning a baseball team was a lot more complicated than it sounded. And he’d been thorough about weighing the pros and cons before he’d agreed to sign up to this insanity. He’d gone in with his eyes open.

This was just the hard part. Getting things established. They’d known the Saints were in trouble when they’d bought them, known there was work to do. So he just had to plow through and get it done.

“You really need to learn to nap on planes,” Mal said.

Lucas gave him a death glare. Mal, thanks to his years of being the globe-trotting soldier, slept anywhere at the drop of the hat. Lucas, who had also learned to catch any sleep he could as an intern, could usually sleep like a log in almost any situation, too.

But he didn’t sleep in the air. Never had since that airlift to the hospital twenty years ago. It was irrational and he knew it, but he hadn’t managed to convince his body that if he fell asleep in a plane or a chopper, he wouldn’t wake up in a hospital again. Or maybe just not wake up at all.

“You worry about your wheeling and dealing,” Lucas said. “Let me worry about me.”

Alex and Mal both frowned at him. “You’re no good to us if you keel over,” Alex said.

“I can do twelve-hour surgeries, I’m not going to keel over from a little travel.”

They both kept frowning at him. It was their way of expressing concern, he guessed. They both knew he didn’t sleep in planes, but he’d never let them know why exactly.

“Fair enough,” Alex said. “But don’t be stupid about it. If there are things that will make this easier, then do them. Whatever you need.”

What he needed was Sara Charles.

Wait. What? No.

He stomped down on the thought but it sprang back up with annoying persistence. Sara Charles piloting for him. Sara Charles doing?—

He stomped harder. Not going to happen.

“What was that?” Mal asked.

“What was what?”

Mal cocked his head, dark eyes narrowing. “Your face went kind of weird.”

“My face is not weird.”

“Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

“No, because it broke last time you looked in it,” Lucas retorted.

Alex held up a hand. “Much as I love this little double act you’ve got going on, I have to agree with Mal on this one. You were thinking about something.”

“Is thinking a crime?”

“No, but that wasn’t your usual analyze-the-situation-six-ways-from-Sunday look.”

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