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Luke glanced at his watch. “Can we talk about this later, Amy?”
“Nope. Not after that little tidbit. Spill it, big brother.”
He sighed, leaned back in his chair, and told Amy the entire story, beginning with seeing Jane take his discarded sandwich from the trash can. She listened quietly and, when he was finished, frowned at him. “So, if her rent cheque bounced, how could she afford to buy Dawson brand clothing?”
“I guess she isn’t as broke as I thought,” Luke said. “She’s probably just bad at managing her money.”
“A woman who takes her boss’ leftover lunch from the trash doesn’t sound bad at managing money. It sounds like someone desperate.”
“Maybe she’s one of those penny pinchers,” Luke said. “Maybe she regularly digs food out of dumpsters and eats it.”
“Be serious, Luke.”
“I am being serious,” he said. “You were the one who made me watch that stupid marathon of people who were extreme money savers. Most had money to burn but lived like they were penniless.”
“You think Jane is like that?” Amy asked.
“I don’t know, Ames, and I’m tired of worrying about it. I’ve got a lot of work on my plate, and my assistant’s personal life isn’t my problem or concern.”
Amy gave him a thoughtful look. “What’s wrong, Luke?”
“There’s nothing wrong.”
“There is. You were quiet and withdrawn at supper last night, and you’re super irritable today. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I fought with Mark,” he said.
“About what?” Amy asked cautiously.
“You.”
She stood and moved toward the door. “I told you – stay out of my personal business, Luke.”
“That’s exactly what Mark said to me,” he said. “Amy, please tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you if I don’t know why you two are fighting.”
“Nothing is going on,” she retorted. “Leave it alone.”
“You’re my sister, and if Mark is - ”
“Mark isn’t doing anything,” she snapped at him. “I understand you’re protective of me, but I don’t need your help. I’m a big girl and can handle my own business. Butt out, Luke.”
She stomped out of his office, and Luke muttered a curse. Fuck, could this day get any worse?
* * *
Jane looked up from her monitor as Luke set a box of papers on her desk. “I need you to go through these and highlight all the purchases that coincide with the dates I emailed you.”
“Yes, Mr. Dawson.”
He jerked like an electric shock had gone through him. He glanced at her, and she wondered why his cheeks were suddenly red. He raked his hand through his dark hair and snorted angrily when his cell phone buzzed. He yanked it from his pocket and read the message, muttering a curse under his breath.
She gave him a cautious look as he texted furiously. He’d been in a bad mood all day, and she had kept her head down and worked silently through the piles of work he had given her. Until he brought this new stuff, she had finished the last of her work and was hoping she could leave soon. It was after seven, and if she didn’t get her butt to the bus stop in the next ten minutes, she’d miss her bus and be late for her shift at the club.
When he finished texting, she cleared her throat. “Mr. Dawson, I was going to head out. Can I do this work in the morning or - ”
“No,” he snapped. “I need it done before my eight o’clock meeting tomorrow morning.”
She chewed at her bottom lip, and he gave her an irritated look. “I told you there would be overtime working for me, Ms. Smith.”
