Chapter 10 Bree
Bree
Of all the days for Piper to take her lunch break exactly on time, it had to be today.
My phone is pressed between my ear and shoulder. My laptop is open to the courier tracking system. I’m simultaneously trying to confirm authorization codes while walking the deliveryman downstairs through building security.
Totally got this.
The elevator dings.
I glance up automatically, still half-listening to the courier dispatcher explain why the second package hasn’t been scanned yet.
And then I forget how to breathe.
The woman who steps off the elevator looks like she walked straight out of a luxury fragrance commercial.
She’s tall, blonde, and impeccably dressed in something that probably costs more than my monthly rent, my student loan payment, and my meal prep budget combined.
Her hair falls in perfect waves that definitely required a professional blowout.
Her makeup is flawless in that “I woke up like this” way that takes two hours to achieve.
But the thing I notice most? The thing that makes me immediately want to sink through the floor?
The cleavage.
And I’m not talking about tasteful. I’m talking about a neckline that plunges so deep it’s practically spelunking. And the way she’s carrying herself makes it crystal clear she knows exactly what she’s working with.
Great.
Just great.
A hot Victoria’s Secret model is walking toward me and I’m wearing my backup blazer because I spilled yogurt on my good one this morning.
“I’ll call you back,” I say into the phone, and hang up before the dispatcher can object.
The woman approaches the desk with a smile that looks friendly enough but doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Definitely something predatory about it. Like a cat who’s spotted a mouse and is deciding whether it’s worth the effort.
“I’m here to see my brother Martin Hale,” she announces. Even her voice is perfect. Musical, even.
Jesus.
“And your name?” I ask, pulling up the visitor log on my screen.
“Gabriella Hale,” she replies daintily.
I peruse the log. “There’s no Gabriella Hale on the visitor log.”
Her smile sharpens. “Where’s Piper?”
I return her smile sweetly. “On break.”
She frowns. “And you are?”
“Bree Dawson.” I straighten my spine the way I always do when I feel small. “Mr. Rossi’s executive secretary.”
Amusement flickers across her face.
“What happened to the last one? Never mind. So you’re the new secretary.” She says it like she’s commenting on a particularly disappointing appetizer. “How... quaint. I hope you’re better at filing than your predecessor.”
The dismissal hurts, especially coming from her.
I feel heat creeping up my neck.
This woman is everything I’m not. Confident. Beautiful. Connected. The kind of woman who walks into rooms and commands attention without trying. The kind of woman men like Nico probably date.
Stop it.
You have a master’s degree.
You’re cute, too.
In your own way.
Sort of.
I open my mouth to respond. I want to say something professional, something that doesn’t betray how small she just made me feel.
But before I can say anything, I’m vaguely aware of movement somewhere behind me, and Gabriella’s eyes cut right past my shoulder, and something that looks like a cross between surprise and calculation crosses her face.
That’s when I hear his voice.
Behind me.
“Bree’s competence isn’t up for discussion,” Nico says. “And neither is your presence here. You’re not on the visitor log, Gabriella. Leave.”
I blink.
Did he just... defend me?
I turn.
Nico is standing maybe ten feet away, clearly having just exited the conference room. He’s in his element today. Crisp white shirt with sleeves rolled to his elbows. Dark trousers tailored specifically to his body. Hair slightly disheveled.
His expression is glacial. I’ve seen Nico cold before. I’ve been on the receiving end of his ice for weeks now.
But this?
This is different.
This is the kind of cold that could snap steel.
His gaze hasn’t left Gabriella.
Gabriella’s perfect composure flickers. Color rises in her cheeks. “Nico, I just want to see my brother. I—”
“Leave.”
One word. No room for negotiation.
A shadow moves in my peripheral vision. Callahan. Nico’s head of security. He appears from somewhere near the executive elevator bank and positions himself behind Gabriella.
Where did he even come from?
Gabriella’s jaw tightens. For a moment I think she’s going to push back. Challenge Nico’s authority. Make a scene.
But she’s too smart for that. Instead, she adjusts her designer bag on her shoulder, lifts her chin, and walks back toward the elevators with her dignity intact. But fury definitely radiates from her every step.
The elevator doors close behind her.
Callahan nods once at Nico and returns to wherever he materialized from.
And Nico turns toward the executive area without another word.
I stare after him, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat.
He defended me.
Not just defended me. He used my first name. “Bree’s competence.” Not “Ms. Dawson.”
Don’t read anything into it.
Probably just defending his territory.
His employee.
It’s not about me specifically.
But my hands are shaking slightly as I return to the courier situation. And I can’t stop replaying the way his voice sounded when he said my name. Like it mattered.
“What was that about?”
I nearly jump out of my skin. Cressida has appeared beside the reception desk, coffee in hand, eyebrows raised.
“Nothing.” I fumble with my phone, trying to call back the courier dispatcher. “Just a visitor who wasn’t on the log.”
Elspeth’s executive assistant gives me a look that says she doesn’t believe me for a second. “Uh huh. And Mr. Rossi personally makes sure all unauthorized visitors leave?”
“He was already walking by. Coincidence.”
“Right.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “That woman was Gabriella Hale. Martin Hale’s sister. She and Nico have... history.”
History.
The word lands in my stomach like a rock.
Of course they have history.
Of course someone who looks like that has history with someone who looks like him.
What did I think?
That I was special because he slept with me once and then pretended it never happened?
“I should finish up here before Piper gets back,” I say, which is absolutely not me avoiding this conversation.
Cressida gives me a knowing look but mercifully doesn’t push. “Okay. Have fun.”
“Thanks.”
She heads back toward the executive wing. I finally get the courier dispatcher back on the phone and spend the next ten minutes sorting out the R&D delivery situation.
But the whole time, I keep glancing toward the glass walls of Nico’s office.
He’s back at his desk now. Working. Not looking in my direction.
Piper returns from lunch five minutes later, and her eyes are gleaming with barely contained curiosity. “I heard there was some excitement while I was gone.”
Jesus.
The gossip mill is already churning?
“Nothing exciting,” I say, gathering my laptop. “Just a scheduling mix-up.”
Piper’s smile is sweet and sharp. “That’s not what I heard.”
I don’t ask what she heard. I don’t want to know.
She’s another one. All that glossy hair and perfect bone structure and the kind of effortless beauty that probably gets her upgraded to first class just for existing.
She and Gabriella Hale could start a club.
The Women Who Make Bree Feel Like a Horse Society.
Membership: exclusive. Horses: not invited.
Stop it.
Horses are pretty, too.
Super pretty.
Yeah, except not when in human form.
Stop!
“Well, I have to go!” I tell Piper, and make a hasty retreat before my feelings of inadequacy become too obvious.
I return to my desk outside Nico’s office and try to focus on the donor response matrix that’s been my constant companion for days.
But I keep thinking about Gabriella Hale. Her perfect hair. Her designer dress. The way she looked at me like I was furniture.
And I also keep thinking about the way Nico looked when he defended me.
It doesn’t mean anything.
It was one moment of defense.
But when I look up and catch him watching me through the glass walls of his office, our eyes meeting for just a second before we both look away...
I’m not so sure anymore.