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Bastian is waiting for me when I come inside. He leans against the wall, crossing his arms and sizing me up. “You sly little fucker,” he says in a low voice as a smirk spreads across his face.
“What?” I ask, my voice laced with annoyance. What the fuck is he talking about?
“You seriously are making her go out on three dates to get those books? You don’t ever even look at them,” he states.
I shrug and head toward my office.
“You really like this woman, don’t you?” he asks as he follows behind me.
“None of your business,” I growl.
“Fuck. You do. OK. What’s the game plan?” he inquires when we reach the double doors.
I turn and look at him. Bastian is tall, nearly as tall as I am. But where I’m broad, he’s lean. I’d never hurt him, but right now, I sort of want to throw him into a wall. He’s aggravating as fuck.
He senses my annoyance and steps back with his hands up. He gives me a sincere look. “Look, I’m just happy you’re interested in someone, and someone good at that. Isa’s a good person,” he says before turning around. I realize that he has a whole life outside the estate. I mean, I knew he dated Max. But I never thought about all the friends and acquaintances he must have in town. I suppose I’ve been a selfish prick, too consumed by my own troubles to contemplate my friend’s life outside of my world.
He stops a step away from the next corridor and looks at me over his shoulder. “Don’t fuck it up.”
“You’re seriously getting on my last nerve,” I declare to my oldest friend. Hell, my only friend.
He grins. “Where are we taking her first?”
“The city. Tomorrow night. The gala,” I state.
“The charity gala?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes.”
“Wow…I mean…OK…that’s a big deal,” he points out.
“I guess.”
He turns back around to face me. His facial features change, so I know he’s serious. “Adam…does she know?”
I shake my head. “And don’t tell her, you asshat. She doesn’t need to know,” I snip.
“You should tell her,” he suggests.
“What I do or don’t tell Isa is none of your concern.”
He rolls his eyes. “You are so petulant sometimes. Were you always this grumpy?” he asks, frowning as if trying to remember the past.
“Yes,” I declare.
He cracks a lopsided grin. “I suppose you were. But there was a time that you were sort of fun.”
“I don’t recall,” I say dryly.
“I like this for you. Isa is good for you,” he says as he turns back around. “Don’t fuck it up!” he says again as he leaves me alone in the hallway.
I groan and turn, opening the doors and closing them behind me. I have a date to plan.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
Isa
