I watched as Rowan stalked toward me with a look I knew well. He was pissed, his body language practically screaming for people not to talk to him, look at him, or think about him. I thanked the realtor and hung up the phone just as he walked through the door, then I swiveled my chair to face him as he rounded his desk and sank in his chair with a heavy sigh. I waited, studied the way his features went through the motions: pissed off, disbelief, pissed off again. Deciding to leave him alone to his sulking, I turned around, wishing I had access to the monologue bouncing around in his head. At the very least, it would be entertaining. Alistair Hawthorne had always been kind to my family and me, but he sucked at being a father, telling the guys they were unwanted and a mistake on more than one occasion. That their mother had tricked him into getting her pregnant – twice. It was ridiculous but I could see the light leave Sam’s eyes whenever he spoke about it. He hadn’t divulged much about his parents’ divorce, but I was sure some of the cloud that passed over Rowan’s face had something to do with that, though I couldn’t imagine why. It’s not like either one of them had ever seemed in love, or happy for that matter.

I clicked the mouse and powered up the sleeping computer once more, checking out the realtor’s website. Why did realtors put their face on everything? I shook my head and clicked on his face. He looked like a supermodel, which could have been why he wanted to put his face on everything.

“What’s so funny?”

I glanced over my shoulder to Rowan. “Nothing. Just looking at your friend Enrique’s website. I think he has more pictures of himself than houses.”

His lips twitched. “Did you speak to him?”

“Yep. We set up a meeting. Thank you,” I said. I could tell he was still reeling from his conversation with his dad and wished I could say something to cheer him up, but I wasn’t sure what.

“He’s going to go check the house out?” he asked, a bitter tone in his voice again.

“Yep.”

“At what time?”

“Five thirty.”

He gave a nod and went back to his computer. The door opened, and Sam popped his head in.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” My smile widened at the sight of him.

“You got plans for lunch?”

“Not as of now.”

“Meet me downstairs at twelve.”

I gave him a thumbs-up and laughed at the moonwalk he did as he left. He was such a clown.

“Cute,” Rowan said with a bite in his tone that made my attention whip toward him. He was leaning against his desk, legs casually crossed as he looked at me. I hadn’t even heard him move.

“What is your problem?”

“Nothing. Just enjoying the show. You and my brother.” He shook his head, full lips pursed as he pushed off the desk and walked over. My heart stalled, thinking he was coming over to me, but he just opened the file cabinet beside my desk. “So fucking cute.”

“You should try to at least be cordial with him.”

“Yeah, there’s no chance of that happening now.” He smiled like a shark, slow, powerful, and without humor. My heart thumped against my chest at everything he wasn’t saying. He pulled out a file and shut the cabinet with a little rattle that made me jump.

“He’s still your brother,” I whispered.

“Yet, he knows no bounds.” He pressed his palm onto my desk and leaned closer to me, crowding me in a way that made my pulse skitter with the awareness of him. “For the record, I hate the way he looks at you. I hate the way he talks to you and does a little show for you, and I hate how entertained you are by all of it.”

“Rowan.”

“I hate it,” he breathed the words, his eyes dark and murky.

I realized then that I wasn’t great at pretending at all. A part of me wanted to just flat-out tell him I’d lied. The other part of me screamed that it didn’t matter. It was safer for him to think I was with someone else, anyway. I forced my eyes away from his, looked at the computer, and changed the subject.

“Is there anything you want me to help you with? What was the last secretary doing for you?”

He was quiet as he took his seat again. The slap of the file hitting his desk filled the air before he finally answered my question. “She alternated between Instagram and Facebook posts, but what she was supposed to be doing was confirming meetings for my upcoming trips.”

“Do you have a list?”

“First drawer to your right. There are over five hundred companies on there, so I don’t expect you to call every single one, but any meeting you can set up would help. Just make sure to coordinate the dates and locations accordingly.”

My eyes widened as I scanned the first page, and when I looked back up, I knew my mouth was hanging open. “How many places are you planning to visit?”

“Well, I’ll start in London and then head to Paris. I want to try to go to Africa and some places in South America as well, but those will be separate trips.”

I felt my brows hike up. “Are you dedicating your entire year to this?”

“I guess so.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. The phone on his desk rang and interrupted our conversation, so I turned around and started going through the list and calling people while he worked. Between lunch with Sam and the work I had on my desk, the rest of the day flew by, and I thought maybe we could do this whole friendship slash work thing after all.