"Well, that went well." Matt glanced up as Bethany downed her second glass of wine. They had wrapped things up with Jonathan an hour later and headed out to dinner, just the four of them. Bethany was almost glad that the eclectic art dealer had turned them down for the meal. Spending time with Damon, Matt and Erica sounded relaxing, or it might have been if Matt wasn’t sitting on pins and needles around the blond bombshell that Bethany wanted to get closer to.

It would be nice to have a friend, and since there weren't many girls her age to choose from and Krista was facing murder charges, Erica would have to do.

"It did. I think Jonathan really liked your work." Erica smiled seductively and pressed her elbows to the table as her wine glass dangled from her fingers. "It was a great portfolio. I'm glad you decided to show him the full breadth of your talent and not just have the scenery pieces in there."

"Were you thinking about leaving out the paintings of people?" Bethany picked up a piece of garlic bread from the center of the table and glanced over to see Damon on his phone, working no doubt. The man rarely gave it a rest, but she understood all too well. She was itching to get back to the room to work on something for Kendal that she needed to have ready by Tuesday morning and a research project synopsis for class on Monday. The good times were almost over, but she was hanging on as long as she could. Damon seemed to have moved on already.

"Yeah. Some people get uber sensitive about paintings of faces. Noses are especially hard to get right, emotion is difficult, and everyone has an opinion about whether the piece looks true to form. It's hard, but they're my favorite to work on by far."

"Was the one of the dark-haired girl, the close-up, Bethany?" Erica took a sip of her wine, and Bethany couldn't help but notice how closely Matt's eyes followed her. He was into her. Why was he fighting it so much?

Was it the monster in the bedroom bullshit? She had to ask Damon about it later. Surely he would know more than she did and could fill in the blanks for her. The question was, would he? And really, did she want to know more about Matt's bedroom tendencies?

Sadly enough, yes.

"No. It's just a coincidence. I did that one back in two thousand and thirteen." He shrugged and picked up his menu. "I hope it works out with Jonathan, though I'm not sure if working on paintings all the time will work for me. We'll see."

"I know of a certain advertising agent for a great company that's looking for a lead designer." Erica chuckled as Matt gave her a look.

"Who?" Damon glanced up from his phone.

"Us, silly." Erica shook her head and reached out to squeeze Matt's thick shoulder. "Have you given it any more thought?"

"What's that?" He turned and gave her a quick glance. It was almost too cute how shy he was around her.

"You coming to work for Erica, Matt. It's a good balance in your life. Paint some of the time and work for her and us, really the rest of the time. It's not as restrictive as you think. I talked with her a little bit about it, and you could have the freedom to come and go as you want." Damon's voice was a little muted by the angle of his head as he continued to answer e-mails on his phone.

Annoyance rolled over Bethany, but she swallowed it down. It wouldn't do anyone any good for her to reach out and put her hand on the screen. He needed to put the damn thing up, but she wasn't going to be the one to tell him. They were getting along for the first time all week. She wasn't messing up the serenity.

"I'm thinking about it. We can chat tomorrow morning when you show me the new office space you guys have." Matt winked at Bethany and pulled the bread basket closer to him. "Did you like that red suit Jonathan had on? I'm thinking I need one."

She laughed and spat a little of her wine out at the thought of him in something so grotesque. "No. Just no."

Damon grunted and handed her a napkin, a look of disdain on his impossibly handsome face. He was lucky he was so hot. He was an ass far too often not to have the looks to rein someone back in from walking away.

"I think it would look great on you." Erica laughed and set her wine down. "I've had too much to drink. I'm going to the ladies’ room. I want the grilled salmon and veggies if they come."

"We'll get it for you." Bethany smiled up at the other woman and waited until she left to turn her attention back to Matt.

"You need to take her dancing tonight, or for dinner tomorrow night."

"What? No." Matt shook his head.

Damon's phone rang, and he stood. "I need to take this."

"What do you want us to get-"

He walked off and answered the phone, leaving Bethany to feel silly for asking him anything.

"Ugh. He's such a dick sometimes." Matt grabbed another piece of bread and tossed it across the table to her. "Why do you put up with him?"

The light tone of his voice let her know that he was teasing her, but the question was rather valid.

"No clue." She shrugged and took a bite of the bread. "Let's not talk about Damon and me, let’s instead focus on something new and fun. Like you and Erica."

"There is no me and Erica. She's far too much woman for me, Sis. Seriously. Look at her." He pushed at her glass of wine a little. "She drinks white wine for God's sake."

Bethany snorted. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"You gotta be a tough bitch to handle three glasses of white wine. It's so tart and dry that my lips get tucked under my gums, like this." He tucked his bottom and top lip in, leaving him to look like a horse with more gums and teeth than anyone should be allowed. "How do you like me now?"

She laughed again and put the rest of the bread into her mouth, speaking around it. "I'm falling in love with you. I'm so glad you're not like your brother. I couldn't handle two of you."

"How naughty would that be? You in bed with both of your brothers?" He gasped dramatically. "At the same fucking time?" Another gasp.

"What are you two laughing about?" Erica took her seat beside him, and Bethany watched as he transformed from laid back and fun-loving to stiff and unyielding.

"Just being siblings." Bethany shrugged and picked up her menu as the waiter approached. Damon was nowhere to be found, so Matt ordered him a steak, which turned out to be the wrong cut of meat and the wrong temperature from what he wanted.

To say that he was moody would have been an understatement.

"I have some work I need to do tonight," Damon barked as he glanced over his shoulder.

Bethany shrugged and kept her thoughts to herself. Dinner had been fun in momentary spurts when Matt wasn't giving Erica stiff responses, and Damon wasn't mumbling half-ass responses. She should have just gone to dinner with Matt by herself.

Damon walked into the room and pulled off his jacket, tossing it on the bed and working on his tie. She wanted to move around him and help undress him sensually, but he wasn't in the mood to be bothered with anything, least of all her.

"Have you met everyone from this Zarpeth team?" She tried to start a casual conversation as she opened her suitcase and pulled out some comfortable clothes.

He glanced up from the desk he hovered over and smirked. "I'm the CFO of the company. I put the team together."

"Okay, Mr. Sensitive. Shit. I was just wondering who all was on the team. It was an ice breaker of sorts."

"We can talk about it at breakfast tomorrow. I have too much to do tonight to casually talk about things that don't matter." He sat down and pulled the laptop closer to him.

She ignored the sting deep inside her chest at his dismissal of her. Why was she there again? Right, to make her mark on McKenzie and Bryant. It would have been nice if it was for a better reason, like supporting her man or having a getaway for the two of them, but nothing could be further from the truth. When Damon wasn't tense, he was difficult. When he was stressed, there was no dealing with him.

After putting on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, she slipped her feet into her sandals and pulled her laptop strap over her shoulder.

"Where are you going?" He glanced up.

"To the hotel lobby. I figure you might be making calls or-"

"I'm not. You're good staying here, just keep the TV down low if you're going to watch it. I need to review a few things for our meeting tomorrow and work through the Kissinger tax files. You know, nothing too pressing."

She walked to the door and opened it. "It's all good. I'll find a comfortable chair in the executive lounge and work on my school stuff. I have a lot due when we get back home."

"You can't go into there looking like that."

She put her hand on her hip. "Like what exactly?"

He lifted his eyebrow as if she should have already known what she looked like, and she did. The challenge was for him to insult her.

Why are you trying to start a fight?

"Right. Do what you want." He shook his head and went back to his computer, leaving her standing there.

"I will." She grabbed the door handle but stopped as the sound of his laptop slapping shut caused her to stiffen.

"You know what, I'll go. I need a drink anyway, and I'm still dressed in something more appropriate for the lounge. Just stay here." He tucked the laptop in his briefcase and moved past her, pulling the door open. "Be awake when I get back. I want to go over a few things before we go to sleep."

"Over what?" She moved back, a little surprised by his desire to leave the room. His reasoning was asinine, but so was he.

"Some of the auditing steps that you'll be in charge of."

"I'm an intern." She wished she could have pulled her words back the minute they left her lips.

He chuckled. "Is that all you want to be?"

"Did I say that?" She moved away from the door and let out a tired huff. "Just go. You're in a mood, and we're just going to tear each other apart. You got your sex, so whatever."

"Got my sex?" He snorted and opened the door. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like it means." She crawled up into the bed and waited to press her palms to her eyes until he let the door close behind him without a word.

She shouldn't have said it, but it was how she felt. He wasn't at all the same guy who'd dropped down to his knee in the sand in Jamaica. He was more like the asshole that let some girl give him head while she watched on her first day of work.

"No. Please don't let us go backward. We don't have much farther to go to unravel everything. Please."