I’m scrolling through texts with my head down when I almost run straight into Lucas.

He leans against the wall outside the ladies room, arms across his chest, a smug expression stretched across his handsome face. My throat instantly swells, in prickles of anxiety forming on my skin. It’s clear he’s waiting for me.

“Shit,” I say. “I almost didn’t see you there.”

Lucas unfolds his arms and tucks his hands behind his firm back. “You looked pretty deep in thought. Still thinking about how you pulled the wool over Mason’s eyes?”

My spine goes rigid. “Excuse me?”

A smirk plays on his lips. “Don’t be coy with me, Miss Landers. You’re not the first woman to try this.”

I clear my throat. “I don’t know what you’re implying Mr. Hammer, but I’m just doing my job. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

Lucas laughs without humor. “Oh, you’re doing a hell of a lot more than that.”

Despite my attempt at self-control, my cheeks flush. I’ve tried to remain professional at the office, making sure to address Mason appropriately, never touching him in public, or giving off the impression that he’s anything more to me than my boss. But obviously our rendezvous are somewhat public knowledge—and it’s evident our relationship doesn’t meet the approval of Mason’s partners. It’s not my problem to fix.

“That was some stunt you played last week,” he says. “You had us all convinced you’d tapped into some secret goldmine with that currency deal.”

“My analysis was off. But I never claimed that it was foolproof and I’ve apologized again and again.” And I’ve been punished, I mentally add. The memory brings a stinging sensation to my backside, and I ache to be in the safety of Mason’s office instead of in the hallway with this wolf.

Lucas is no gruffer or harsher than Mason, but he doesn’t make my insides flip. My knees don’t knock together with lust. Whereas Mason is still covering up his grief with a gruff exterior, Lucas is just mean. Pity the woman who tries to get through that spiked armor in one piece.

Lucas’ lips twist into a sneer. “I’m sure Mason would have you believe that a simple apology makes that failure, but never forget, Miss Landers, this company belongs to the three of us. You’re just a cog in the wheel.”

I push out my chest, standing my ground. “I’m aware of the hierarchy.”

I’ve never questioned my position on the totem pole, just where on the lower part I land—and how quickly I can climb it. I stepped outside the bounds last week and made a bad call. Shit happens. Mason even said as much. I’ve atoned for my sins, and we’ve moved on. At least, Mason and I have.

“If you want to know more about my position, I would recommend asking Mr. Wood.”

Another sneer, this one catching me off guard with its cruelty. “But which position shall I ask about, Miss Landers? I’m sure you’re familiar with them all.”

My hand trembles, prepared to swipe it across Lucas’ face. Punching one of the partners is a guaranteed path to the unemployment line, but I’ve had just about enough of Lucas’ innuendos and insults. “I suggest you temper your words very carefully, because I don’t think Daylight Holdings wants a sexual harassment suit.”

My voice carries far more strength than I feel, but it’s enough to loosen the animosity that makes Lucas’ face scrunch with disgust. His eyes soften a little, and I swear there’s a hint of amusement simmering under the surface of his hate. “I can see what Mason sees in you,” he says, his eyebrow lifting ever so slightly. “You’re a bit of a firecracker.”

The back handed compliment makes my cheeks go hot with embarrassment.

“Still, I’d advise you to be vigilant,” Lucas says. “Because I won’t allow him to throw away everything we’ve built here.”

“That’s not my intent,” I snap.

“Maybe not consciously,” he says.

“Not in the slightest.” In my peripheral vision, I catch a glimpse of Misty, hovering at the end of the hall. Eavesdropping or waiting to go into the ladies room. I lower my voice. “Look, I don’t know why you have such a low opinion of me, but I’m not that girl.”

Lucas leans close enough for me to smell the minty scent of his mouthwash. “Mason is different with you.” The sentiment echoes what I overheard on the island, and I’m still no clearer on what it means. “Distracted.” He runs his hand through his hair. “It’s a pivotal time for the company—I need Mason on his A game. Clear?”

My body trembles with a dangerous cocktail of emotions, from angry to terrified. I lift my chin. “My job is to ensure Mr. Wood has everything he needs to stay focused.” A thin smile crests my lips. “I’m very good at my job, Mr. Hammer. So yes, we’re crystal clear.”