“All work no play makes Jesse a grumpy boy,” she says, a smile playing at her cheeks.
“If I seem grumpy, it’s only because I’m subjected to your snarky comments before nine a.m.,” I argue. “And I had a lovely date last night, thank you very much.”
She sets the tablet on the tray table and folds her hands one on top of the other. “So lovely that you were spamming me with work emails at ten thirty at night?”
Her hazel eyes pin me with a mischievous stare that tells me she is up to no good. It’s no secret that Luce likes pissing me off. She’s constantly poking at anything she identifies as a soft spot just to see if she can make me squirm. I lean in closer, making it clear she can’t get to me, but she doesn’t flinch.
“You’re one of those chicks who likes to cuddle after, aren’t you?” I narrow my eyes. “Spend the night, breakfast in bed the next morning. Talk about how it allmeanssomething.”
“Hardly,” Luce snaps, but there’s the faintest crack in her armor as she mulls over my words. “Besides, I’m not achick. I’m a woman. Although I can see how you’d be unfamiliar with the word, given your affinity for people who clearly don’t know better than to sleep with the likes of you.”
“Jealous?” I grin, and she rolls her eyes.
We’ve been playing this cat-and-mouse game for the last two years, waiting to see who will crack first. She might have razor-sharp claws, but I’ve spent years thickening my skin. You don’t become a managing partner by thirty without being a little ruthless.
“What about you?” I bite down on the end of my pen and look at her. “I figured you’d be a little less exhausting to deal with this morning since last night you were clearly too busy sucking some unsuspecting guy’s soul to respond to my emails.”
Yeah, I’d noticed.
Luce spins her body toward me as much as she can in the seat. We might be in first class, but it’s a small plane, and there’s only so much room. It doesn’t help that she still has her seat belt on even though the sign flicked off thirty minutes ago.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” Luce says, “but I was out with friends last night. Some of us have lives outside of work.”
“Right.” I wink, and I can’t help but appreciate that her cheeks turn a little pink in frustration. It’s hard to imagine Luce out with friends, much less enjoying herself. God, that woman is so uptight, shoulders always back, hair in a tight ponytail. Never a strand out of place.
“Where’s Mateo, anyway?” Luce asks. “I thought he was coming with us.”
“He is.” I smile at how easily she’s giving herself away—uncomfortable without a human barrier between us. “He took a different flight because he wanted to bring Nate along. Romantic getaway or some crap like that.”
Luce nods, and I angle my body toward her, forcing my legs against hers on accident. The hard swallow in her throat lets me know she definitely noticed, and I can’t help but wonder what that reaction means.
“Did you bring the affidavits?” Luce changes the subject and quickly moves away from me.
I pull a stack of papers from my briefcase and hand it over to her, but she doesn’t bother with a thank you.
“We’re missing Valentina’s,” Luce says, glancing over the pages.
“I know,” I say. “We’ll get it at the meeting.”
Luce’s eyes darken. “It should have been filed weeks ago.”
“It’ll be fine,” I tell her.
But she’s already furiously flipping through papers, taking notes, and pulling up emails. She’s probably right. It’s another thing that Marcus missed, and I’ve been too busy to notice. But the fact that Luce is flustered adds to my entertainment.
“Where’s the—” She flips through another stack. “Never mind.”
Luce smooths out her ponytail, and I notice her jaw is clenched, her eyes darting over her notes in focused fury.
I give Luce a lot of crap for how she got this job when I probably shouldn’t. I was the one who pulled her resume to the top of the stack, noting how I’d been surprisingly impressed with her during the interview process. She’s wicked smart and doesn’t take crap from anyone. Especially me. But something about Brad being close with her family got to me, and it took me longer than it should have to get over that. Work isn’t the place for handouts or favors, and I didn’t like the idea that he brought her on as either one.
“Another drink?” A raven-haired flight attendant slides up and leans her hip against the seat in front of me. Her teeth bite into the corner of her bottom lip as she scans me over. “Maybe something to get the party started before we land?”
God, she’s laying it on thick. Her hands skim over her hip, and I get the feeling she’s down to explore a little more than just the drink menu.
“We’re here for business,” Luce cuts in. I look over to see her eyes narrowed ever so slightly at the flight attendant. For a woman who I know goes on plenty of dates, Luce doesn’t mind being a cockblock when it comes to me.
“Most men are, honey,” the flight attendant shoots back, not taking the hint. Or not caring.