Page 135 of Inflame

“Well, having a board of directors and bidding for funding for our start-up is potentially what has to happen. We will be able to get a chunk of money to handle hiring, scaling the product, and launching our idea into the world. Right now, we have a sole investor—Graham. I just want to make sure he is only offering starting capital and will fade out his cash flow once we get established and move onto the next series of funding as we progress. Last thing I want is for his money to just be wasted.”

“It’s your money too,” I correct. “But I totally agree. I want this to work out just as much as you do.”

“The headhunter will be here soon, and we can discuss with her what we need in terms of potential employees.”

“Great.”

“Plus, we already have a few new hires starting next week.”

I nod. “Things are starting to line up.”

“It’s crazy, isn’t it?”

“So crazy,” I say, “that it has to be meant to be.”

The sound of our office door opening causes us both to turn around and see the Hoffman brothers filling up the entranceway with their muscular bodies. They sure are a force to be reckoned with. Both men are equally talented and possess the qualities that can get the job done. I just hope I am not on the receiving end of their wrath. Rumors have been flying around during some elevator rides and restroom trips about the unyielding force these brothers make. I’m not surprised.

“Hey you,” Angie says, running up to Graham and flinging herself into his arms. He catches her and quickly fixes the dress that spreads across her backside to keep her from being exposed.

I get up from my seat and walk over to the group, careful not to let on that I would have loved to have jumped on Nic in a similar fashion. He gives me a look that makes the panties melt from my bones.

“What brings you boys here? Checking in on us?” I tease.

Graham clears his throat and sets Angie back on her feet. “We have some matters to discuss.”

His words cause a wave of anxiety to flow through me. Something is obviously agitating him. Angie has already hinted that he is in a bad mood.

I lead everyone over to the sofa area that we recently enhanced with an area rug, some fresh potted plants, and extra pillows. Everything is bright and bold.

“I just got the news that I have to head to New York City tonight,” Graham states, taking a seat right beside Angie. She is practically sitting on his lap.

She frowns. “I hate being alone at night in the penthouse.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

“Maybe I can sleep over at Claire’s?” Her eyes are sad, and she looks over at me for support.

“I—”

“That’s not a good idea,” Nic says, interrupting me before I can state the same thing. He is hovering along the side of the sofa, instead of actually sitting down.

I glare at him for his unnecessary two cents. Why does he care? “It’s not that bad,” I defend. “But in all honesty, there’s not more than an uncomfortable sofa to sleep on.” The usage of the word “sofa” is an embellishment. In reality, the futon-esque bed that I am forced to sleep on at Blake’s loft is as comfortable as sleeping on rocks. Lumpy and lacking any real form. “And it smells like stale dehydrated cheese powder.” I see Angie’s eyes well up, and Graham instantly comforts her.

“Will you just come with me on the trip?” he asks, looking down at her trembling form. “We can sightsee and go to dinner when we are there.” She is trying to keep herself calm but I know the struggle. “See a show?”

“You know I can’t.”

“I can handle things here,” I try to persuade. “You are free to go.”

“No. We have too much to do here, and when Graham goes away, he never knows how long he will be gone. The last time I accompanied him, two nights turned into four.”

“Then I can just come and stay at your place,” I say softly. “Is that okay?”

Angie looks up at Graham with hope.

“Yeah, of course. You are always welcome at our home, whether I’m there or away. You are family to us.”

Nic’s eyes twitch.

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