“Yes, you do. Ever since I started working here, you’ve been dumping work on me. Not just my work but yours. And you’ve seized every chance to make fun of me, humiliate me and make me feel like I don’t belong here.”

  “How you feel is completely under your control, not mine. So if you feel like you don’t belong here, maybe it’s because that’s what you believe.”

  “Bullshit. You’ve been treating me like an outsider, like an amateur, like crap, like—”

  “A bug that needs to be squished?” he finishes the sentence. “Or is that too harsh?”

  I frown. I knew it. This is personal.

  “I’m going to report you to HR,” I tell him.

  Asher doesn’t look the least bit perturbed.

  “Say hi to Gina for me, will you? She’s the woman in her fifties with the red hair, eyeglasses with cords and the crazy earrings. Looks like your stereotypical librarian. But don’t get fooled. She’s very good with computers. And very sweet.”

  My eyebrows furrow. Why is he telling me this?

  “Oh, and while you’re there, why don’t you hand in your resignation?”

  “What?”

  “You’re clearly stressed, overwhelmed even, by your job. Like I said, if you can’t handle it, you can just quit. I think you should.”

  I glare at him. “It’s not my job that stresses or overwhelms me, and you know it. You’re the one who’s making everything difficult for me.”

  He grins. “I’m the boss. It’s my job to make things difficult for everyone.”

  “I don’t see you yelling at anyone else about how to do their jobs.”

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t or didn’t. Maybe this is just how I treat anyone who’s new to my department. An initiation. A baptism of fire, so to speak.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t think so. This is personal and you know it, Asher.”

  “I believe you’re supposed to call me Mr. Hawthorne,” he says. “And no. It’s not personal, Ms. Cleary. Is it?”

  “You know it is,” I answer through gritted teeth.

  There’s no way he can convince me it isn’t.

  Asher taps his fingers on the table. “You think I’m doing all this to punish you for something you did in the past? I would never do that, Ms. Cleary. I would never let something that happened in the past mess up the present. Or the future.”

  And yet he’s doing exactly that.

  “I haven’t done anything wrong. You were the one who left me at that party. No. You left me in a gazebo. I could have frozen to death.”

  “And I said sorry.”

  “Which you didn’t mean.”

  “I did mean it,” he argues. “You just didn’t want to accept it.”

  “So you’re punishing me? I refused to forgive you, which isn’t a crime. In fact, it’s my prerogative. You’re the one who can’t accept that. You can’t even respect it. Instead, you decided to make my life here at work hell.”

  I scratch my head. Can’t Asher see how stupid that sounds?

  He crosses his arms over his chest. “Like I said, I’m not punishing you, Ms. Cleary. But if you feel like you’re being punished, if you personally feel like you can’t get along with me, if you feel like you can’t take all this anymore, you’re free to go.”

  Why does he keep saying that? I don’t want to quit. If I quit, I lose everything. He wins.

  “I’m not going anywhere!”

  “Right. Because you want to be CFO eventually.”

  I draw a breath to calm myself down. “Is that a crime? So you’re punishing me for that, too?”

  “If that’s the case, Ms. Cleary, then I suggest you stick to getting your job done. Perfectly. As long as you do, I will have no complaints.”

  Yeah, right.

  “I might even be convinced to give you a reward. See. I’m an excellent boss. You should be glad to be working under me.”

  He gives me a final grin that makes my stomach churn and my hands clench into fists. Then he leaves. As soon as he’s gone, I grab my pen and throw it at the door. Then I sink into my chair and grip my hair in frustration.

  That… that… fucking jerk! I don’t know why Stella said he’s a good person, but I definitely don’t see it. He’s a scumbag. He’s a monster. He’s the devil.

  Du lusche! Du hurensohn!

  I should never have come here to work for him.

  I let out a deep breath and bury my face in my arms on top of the desk.

  This is the worst.

  Chapter Three

  Asher

  “This is the best martini you’ve made so far, Glenn,” I praise the bartender after gulping down the last of the gin and dry vermouth in my glass.

  Then I grab the toothpick and let both of the olives slide into my mouth.

  “And these olives are just divine. Are you getting them somewhere new?”

  “From a jar with a different name on it,” Glenn answers.

  I chuckle and turn to Ryker, my younger brother, who’s seated beside me. “Did you know our bartender was so funny?”

  “Well, he does need to shake things up every now and then,” Ryker answers before taking a sip of his gin tonic.

  “Haha. You’re funny, too.”

  He narrows his eyes at me. “You only noticed that now?”

  “Well, you always seem so serious.”

  “No, not always. I just have to act like the adult when I’m around you.”

  I laugh and signal to Glenn to make me another martini. He nods.

  “You seem to be in a good mood,” Ryker remarks.

  “I am,” I admit.

  “Things have been going well at work?”

  “You can say that.”

  Who would have thought that giving Violet hell would be just as fun as trying to seduce her?

  Well, it hasn’t been all fun. There were times I felt like I was the one being punished, times when the guilt was so bad it made my stomach hurt. Whenever I saw her on the verge of tears, I wanted to punch myself. If she had cried right in front of me, I probably would have wrapped my arms around her. And earlier in the conference room, it took everything I had to be mean to her and walk away when all I wanted was to have sex with her on top of that conference table. Hot, angry sex. The best kind.

  Still, I think it’s only a matter of time before that happens. Or she quits. Either way, I win. So yeah, I guess things have been going well at work.

  I take a sip from my fresh martini. “What about you? How are things at work?”

  I know we both work in the same building, but we’re on different floors, in different departments—me in Finance, Ryker in Acquisitions. We might as well be living on different planets.

  “Good,” he answers. “Things are starting to settle down. I don’t think the company is making any other acquisitions for the rest of the year.”

  After all the trouble we all went through to get Odermatt Inc., I didn’t think so either.

  “Which means you can take things easy for a while,” I tell him. “Good for you.”

  We raise our glasses and let them clink before sipping our respective drinks. As I put my glass down, I see the empty seat next to me and glance at the door to the bar.

  “Where’s Ethan, by the way? Is he coming?”

  “I thought he sent you a message, too.”

  I check my phone. “No. What did he say?”

  “That he can’t make it.”

  “Because?”

  “Guess.”

  I only have one in mind. “He’s with Stella?”

  Ryker grins. “Bull’s-eye.”

  Of course he is. These Friday midnight drinking sessions are supposed to be our time together as brothers, but ever since Ethan found out Stella is pregnant, the stool beside me has been empty more often than not. After Stella gives birth, he might stop coming altogether.

  And I understand. He’s starting a family of his own now. I know. I just wish he didn’t leave me and Ryker behind.

  “It’s unfair,” I say. “We promised we’d meet each other for drinks every Friday no matter what.”

  “And we’ve been doing it for years,” Ryker says. “But we can’t do it forever.”

  “Said who?”

  “Ethan is going to be a father soon. He’s going to have a family of his own. Of course he’s going to be spending as much time as he can with them.”

  “That doesn’t mean he can’t hang out with us anymore. We’re still his brothers.”

  “And as his brothers, we’ll always be there to support him when he needs us, regardless of whether or not he goes drinking with us.”

  I snort. “You’re too nice, Ryker. Do you know that?”

  “And you’re just jealous,” he points out.

  “Of Stella because Ethan is spending more time with her?”

  That sounds stupid.

  “Of Ethan because he has Stella,” Ryker answers.

  I fall silent. Am I?

  I know the gears in my head have been turning. Ever since Ethan, who I never thought would take romance seriously or fall in love, got together with Stella, I’ve been wondering if the same thing can happen to me. Seeing them so happy together, getting lost in each other’s eyes whenever they look at each other, I’ve started to feel that I’ve been missing something. Yes, I’ve been with a lot of women, but most of them have given me nothing more than a bit of excitement, great sex. That used to be enough, but not anymore. Now, I’ve started to wonder how it would feel to have someone to come home to, someone to laugh with, to climb rocks and cliffs with, to work out at the gym with. Someone to share my life with.

  The image of Violet pops into my head. I can just imagine waking up next to her in bed, seeing her curls splayed out on the pillow and playing with a few until she wakes up and gazes at me with her sapphire eyes. I can see us working together in the living room, checking each other’s numbers. Maybe sometimes we’ll argue because she doesn’t like being wrong but then I’ll shut her up by kissing her and we’ll end up having sex on the couch or on the carpet. The scene makes me smile.

  But I push it aside. Violet can’t even stand to be in the same room as me. How can she be in my life?

  I let out a sigh as I bring my glass to my lips. I guess I am jealous.

  “I know I am,” Ryker confesses.

  I give him a puzzled look because I wasn’t expecting that. “You are?”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t have a thing for Stella like you did.”

  My eyebrows arch. “Like I did?”

  “You were flirting with her in Switzerland, remember?”

  “Only because I wanted to see Ethan’s reaction, to gauge his feelings for her and make him do the same.”

  And I succeeded.

  “What I’m jealous of is what they have,” Ryker says.

  “The baby?”

  “The understanding. The bond. I hope I can find someone with whom I can have something like that, someone who can just open up my heart, read my mind and understand my soul.”

  The longing in his voice takes me by surprise even more. Then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. If there’s a romantic among the three of us Hawthorne brothers, it’s Ryker.

  I pat his shoulder. “You will, buddy. I’m sure you will.”

  Just then, his phone beeps. In the past, I would have scolded him for not putting it on silent mode since we have a rule about that. But hey, Ethan already broke the most important rule.

  “Go ahead,” I encourage Ryker. “It might be important.”

  He takes his phone out of his pocket.

  “Work?” I ask.

  “Actually, no,” he answers as he starts to type. “It’s Joel.”

  Unsurprisingly, the name doesn’t ring a bell. “Joel? Is that a woman? Someone you’re interested in?”

  Ryker gives me an annoyed look. “What is it with you and names? Early-onset Alzheimer’s? Alcoholic dementia? Joel Parker. My best friend. We went to school together. He used to stay at the house a lot.”

  “Oh, him.”

  Now that Ryker has reminded me, I remember the guy perfectly. He was always hanging around Ryker until he left for college. Ethan had no friends. I had a lot of friends. And Ryker had that one friend. Joel, apparently.

  I take another sip of my drink. “Doesn’t he have a sister? I remember he brought her to a party one time.”

  Ryker sighs. “Why am I not surprised that that’s what you remember about him?”

  “She was pretty, wasn’t she?”

  Ryker answers me with a glare.

  I chuckle.

  “What’s funny?”

  “You,” I answer. “Looking the same as you did back then when you told me to stay away from her.”

  “Because she’s my best friend’s sister,” Ryker tells me. “Of course I didn’t want you near her.”

  “Oh, is that why?”

  I thought they were dating. I could have sworn they were.

  “I didn’t want Joel to punch you. And believe me, if you had gone on with your flirting, he would have.”

  “And you would have let him,” I say. “You would have let your best friend punch your own brother.”

  “Because you deserved it.”

  “Wow.”

  “I stopped Ethan from hitting you, didn’t I?”

  I touch my nose as I remember that incident.

  “Maybe next time I won’t.”

  “There isn’t going to be a next time,” I tell him. “He’s in love now, remember? He’s happy.”

  Ryker’s phone beeps again. He takes a sip from his drink before reading the message and typing a reply.

  “So how’s Joel?” I ask. “Didn’t you say he became an engineer?”

  “Yes. He works for a tech company in California.”

  “Maybe you should ask him to come work for us now that we’re venturing into the tech market, too,” I suggest.

  He shrugs. “Nah. I think he’s perfectly happy where he is.”

  “But you’ll get to see each other more often if you work for the same company.”

  “Actually, I think we’ll be seeing each other more often anyway since the woman he’s marrying is from Chicago.”

  “He’s getting married?”

  “Next year,” Ryker says. “Another man finding his perfect match.”

  I snort. “If you keep getting all sappy on me, I swear I’m going to leave you here.”

  He puts away his phone. “Anyway, the wedding will be right here in Chicago, and I’ll be the best man.”

  “And his sister will be there?”

  “Of course. You’re not getting anywhere near her, though. In fact, you’re not invited.”

  “Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on it.”

  “Because you’re still busy trying to convince Violet Cleary to sleep with you?” Ryker asks.

  “Sadly, I don’t know if that’s ever going to happen, but that’s fine.” I let out a breath. “But that’s fine.”

  Ryker gives me a puzzled look. “It is?”

  I finish my drink. “After all, she’s leaving the company soon.”

  Ryker’s eyebrows furrow even more. “What? Why?”

  “Because she’s having a hard time adjusting to her new job,” I answer.

  Ryker says nothing, but I can feel the suspicion in his piercing gaze.

  I shrug. “What?”

  “What did you do to her, Asher?”

  “What did I do? I didn’t do anything. I just told you she’s having a hard time ad—”

  “The Violet Cleary I know, the Violet Cleary I met in Zurich, doesn’t strike me as a woman who has a hard time adjusting to anything. She’s damn good at her job. So if she’s thinking of quitting, I’m sure it has something to do with you.”

  “Wow.” My eyebrows arch. “Your faith in me is astounding, little brother.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “Nothing,” I insist.

  If she can’t stand me then she has to leave. It’s as simple as that.

  Ryker sighs. “Well, maybe you have to do something so she doesn’t leave. You know Ethan will be pissed if she does. She’s really talented. It would be a pity if another company took that talent away from us.”

  I have to say Ryker has a point.

  “What do you want me to do?” I ask him.

  “I don’t know. You’re the one who’s good with women.”

  “Not with this woman.” Unfortunately.

  He shrugs. “Maybe just be… nice?”

  Nice? Like what? Give her flowers? Bring her coffee? Tell her she looks more beautiful now that she’s not hiding her blue eyes behind disgusting contacts? Why should I? Even if I do, she’ll never forgive me. She’ll never be nice to me. What’s the point?

  “You could give her a welcome present,” Ryker suggests.

  No way. If I’m going to get her something, it will be the opposite. Something that will piss her off and convince her to quit.

  I grin. Well, there’s an idea.

  ~

  I’m still trying to think of that perfect present when I reach the floor of my apartment, but my thoughts stop in their tracks as I catch a whiff of something sweet. I turn my head as I realize the scent is coming from the door on my left, the only other door in the hallway apart from mine. I realize what the scent is, too.

  Pancakes.

  The smell of pancake mix, butter, cinnamon and maple syrup throws me back to a sunlit kitchen. I was six and had a hard time getting on a stool, but I managed on my first try that time. My mother was wearing a white apron over a pink dress and she was humming as she made pancakes. That was one of the few times I remember seeing her well, not pale or in pain or in bed looking so fragile. That was the only time she made something for me, too. I don’t think I’ve ever had pancakes since then.

  Nor have I heard of anyone making them at two in the morning. And yet, right now, clearly, someone is. Someone living in the apartment next to mine.

  My eyebrows furrow as I stare at the closed door, one which I’ve passed countless times before but which this time holds a mystery I cannot help but be intrigued by.

  I have a neighbor?

  I thought I heard a noise coming from the other side of my living room wall the other night, but I didn’t think much of it. It definitely didn’t cross my mind that I might finally have a neighbor, which I now realize I do.