Page 11 of Unsure in Love

Not very smooth.

“Nice save, but I’m not stupid or blind. I saw you giving Cass the eye the entire time you were in Oakland.”

Guilty as charged. He didn’t sound as angry as I assumed he would be. The way he spoke of the Bennets made me believe he was uber-protective. Nic knew who I was and what I was interested in, and it wasn’t what he had with Lucy. I didn’t think he’d like the idea of me sniffing around Cass.

“But it’s fine,” Nic stated.

I raised an eyebrow. “It is?”

“Sure, because you’re all the way in New York and she’s in Nebraska. You can’t get your filthy paws anywhere near her, and I’m satisfied with that.”

The humor was clear in his voice, but there was also a note of warning. I winced. So he would be pissed if he found out I’d had my filthy paws all over her for one glorious night.

“Right,” I murmured. It was probably for the best that there was distance between Cass and me. The light flashing on my phone indicated that ‌I had another call coming in. “Hey, Nic. I’ve got to go.”

“No problem, we’ll catch up again.”

“Of course. Congratulations on the baby. Who knows? Maybe I’ll make it back to Oakland to see the little bundle of joy.”

“I won’t hold my breath, workaholic.”

I shrugged as if he could see me. He had a point. “Miracles happen,” I told him.

His laughter filled my office, and I hung up, wearing a smile. Switching the line, I greeted my assistant. “Yes, Bree?”

“Just reminding you about your two o’clock.”

“Okay.”

“And Mr. Hudson is on his way in.”

“Thanks, Bree.”

Just as the line went dead, there was an abrupt knock on the door before Keneti Hudson, my business partner, strolled in. He ran a palm over his cropped blonde hair, as was his habit, and grinned. His amber eyes gleamed with the usual mischief.

“Alvarez, why can’t you ever come out of your office to socialize? I swear, you’re like a princess locked in a tower up here. Set yourself free, man.”

I ignored him and put my feet up on my desk. Ken showing up to berate me for being a workaholic was a normal occurrence. I reached for my stress ball and squeezed.

His eyes zeroed in on my fingers crushing the ball and snorted his disgust. “You’re way too uptight. You know that, right?”

“You’ve been telling me for years, so yes, I’m aware.” I regarded him with amusement. Not only was he my business partner, but he was also a close friend. “Stop angling to get me to socialize. I’ve got much better things to do than to slum it with you on the twenty-ninth floor.”

He chuckled and practically threw himself into the chair in front of my desk. Then, he plopped his feet, Italian leather shoes and all, right on the desk.

Practically growling, I reached over to shove them off. “Get your disgusting feet off my furniture.”

“You’re doing the same thing.” He gestured to my feet.

“It’s my desk.”

“Always such a grouch,” he huffed, adjusting his jacket.

“I have to be,” I grumbled.

Ken was forty years old, five years older than me, but he was still a frat boy at heart. If it were up to him, our office would be one big party scene. One of us had to be an adult. But the man was a damn good private investigator and a marketing genius. He took my ideas and turned them into a shitload of money, so I usually kept my mouth shut and let him run wild.

“You’re like a stuffy old man stuck in that young meat suit. If you didn’t have such a pretty face, you'd never get any chicks.”

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