Romeo exuded pure confidence. “How bad of a memory do you think I have?”

She opened her mouth to question that absurd answer when his meaning hit her. They’d worked fairly closely together in mid-October and shared lunch on multiple occasions. She nearly stumbled stepping onto the elevator, feeling flush and having to talk herself out of overthinking the implications of him remembering such a detail. “You remember that?” Her question was whispered, in part because she was breathless and in part because she hadn’t meant to ask it at all. But she made no attempt to retract it.

Romeo followed her in and pressed the button to close the doors behind them. He moved just a little too close and leaned back, resting one hand on the back wall railing without breaking eye-contact. “Of course I remember.”

Of course? This from the man who lost track of his Monday appointments?

Grace clutched tighter to her phone, thinking if she tried to maintain this conversation she might lose too much oxygen.

Romeo dipped his chin. “Do you not have a pocket for that?”

“What?” She followed his direction to her phone and had the powerful urge to smack herself in the face with it. “No, I do.” She unlatched one hand from the device and shoved it into one of the pockets of her suit coat. The pockets were one of the reasons she liked these suits, since designers still seemed to feel the feminine figure was marred by pockets below the waistline. God forbid.

Not wanting to sit in her embarrassment, Grace asked, “How’s Lucia?”

Romeo’s expression softened and he shifted his weight, leaning backward against the banister. The motion caused his arm to slide out, closer to her, but not quite close enough to touch. “She’s good, thank you. Always full of energy, even in the freezing temperatures.” He chuckled. “She might be an alien, though. The other day she told me she actually enjoys school ‘for the most part.’”

Grace bit back her smile. “I liked school.” The actual school part, at least.

He laughed outright, only straightening as the elevator settled to a stop. “Why does that not surprise me?” He leaned closer but didn’t lower his voice. “Could you tell me what planet my daughter’s from, then?”

Grace rolled her eyes dramatically and led the way out of the elevator. She lowered her voice instinctively, before she realized Romeo had skipped the lobby in favor of the underground parking level. The only one around to overhear them was his regular driver, Mauro. “The planet of smart, successful females. Obviously.” She smiled politely for the man she barely knew.

Mauro returned the smile with a smaller one of his own and an incline of his head, immediately moving to pull open the back passenger door.

“That does make sense,” Romeo said, still sounding amused. “So I’m screwed.” He motioned for her climb in ahead of him.

She paused, braced in the SUV’s doorway, and met Romeo’s mischievous blue gaze. “I’m afraid so, yes.” She couldn’t hide her own laughing grin before ducking properly into the warm cabin of the vehicle and sliding to the far seat. She heard Romeo speak quietly to Mauro, only for a moment, before he climbed in behind her and pulled the door shut.

As soon as the SUV was in motion, both men settled into their seats, Grace became aware of how close she really was to Romeo. He wasn’t even arm’s reach away, and with the way he filled out his seat she could practically feel his body heat even with a space between them. Or perhaps that was her heightened awareness.

She needed to be sure to stay on safe topics of conversation, for her own sake.

Romeo shifted in his seat seconds after they left the garage and pulled his phone from a pocket, the device buzzing in his hand. He muttered a curse when he looked at the screen, then cut her something like an apologetic frown. “Sorry. Just a minute.”

She smiled and nodded. She could use another minute to put herself together.

He swiped his thumb across the screen and lifted the phone to his ear. “Now’s not a good time, Mikey.”

Grace frowned, guilt and a flicker of irritation sparking inside her. She didn’t want to be the excuse for anyone to brush off their family, no matter how hypocritical that sounded. But she had always believed that all three brothers were close and she was not anyone important enough to come between them, not for a moment.

Romeo sighed. “I get that, but I’m busy. Maybe Cris can—” He stopped speaking, so Grace assumed his brother cut him off. When he spoke again, his words were tighter. Almost measured. “Fuck. Fine, call Ryoma. Text me any updates. Dante and I both have meetings this afternoon, but I’ll update him.” He pulled the phone from his ear, jabbed the screen, and shoved the device into his interior coat pocket.

“Sir?” Mauro asked, a note of caution in his voice.

“Keep driving, Mo.”

Grace curled her hands into fists in her lap, trying to understand her own unsettled feelings. She disliked the idea that she’d come between such a close group of siblings, and she disliked being so blatantly excluded from something. The plausible fact that it didn’t likely have a damn thing to do with her was irrelevant. “If I’m in the way, you can drop me off. I’ll get myself back.”

“What?” Romeo adjusted his upper body to face her better.

She made herself meet his gaze, since she’d gone and said the words. “I appreciate you wanting to take me to lunch, Mr. De Salvo, but it sounded like your brother needed you. Maybe it’s because of my own lousy family situation, but I hardly think an easily replaced employee should be prioritized over blood. I understand this isn’t what you intended to happen, there don’t need to be hard feelings. I can be mature about it.”

Something that could only be described as a growl vibrated from Romeo in the second before he released his seatbelt, then hers, and the next thing Grace knew he had wedged a hand around to the back of her neck and sealed his lips over hers. The kiss was firm, undeniably deliberate, but chaste and brief.

She was sure her eyes were wide as she stared at him in muted shock when he broke away, still leaning into her space. Still with his hand on her nape.

“You are not fucking replaceable. Period.”