Page 12 of Bulletproof

Her expression was priceless.

“I thought clients wanted to be talked to like regular people?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Jory!”

Crap.

“Go to the restaurant already. I’ll be there right behind you.”

She wanted me out. I didn’t need to be told twice.

I was scaling the front steps back down to the sidewalk when my name was called. Turning, I glanced back up to the front door to find Hayes Fisher standing there, staring down at me.

“Yeah?” I called out.

He shook his head. “What kind of manners are those, not even offering your client lunch?”

“You mean brunch,” I corrected him.

“You’re kind of an ass, Mr. Har— Jory.”

“Kind of?” I teased him.

“Why don’t we all have brunch with you?”

“Why?” I asked, trying not to sound pained, going back up the stairs I’d just come down.

“Why not?” he asked as I stepped in front of him.

That kind of logic always worked on me.

“Okay, sure,” I said with a shrug.

“Hayes?”

We both turned to look at the scary-looking woman who had stepped out onto the porch beside him. First, I had no idea how I’d missed her in the house. Where had she been hiding? In a closet? And second, I had never seen a scowl quite that dark—except for Sam’s.

“This is my assistant, Lisa O’Toole, who Mrs. Cooper already met,” he said, smirking at me. “Lisa, this is Jory Harcourt.”

Her brows furrowed. I widened my eyes and gave her my big smile, the one that made my brother—even when he was furious with me—stop yelling and listen. For a second, I thought maybe she was going to hold on to the whole prison-guard vibe she had going and not thaw, but then, suddenly, her eyes softened, and she melted.

“It’s a pleasure,” she sighed, offering me her hand.

“And you.” I lowered my voice, making it deep and seductive as I took her hand and then covered it with my other.

“Oh,” Michelle breathed out as she, too, joined us.

Mr. Fisher’s mouth moved like he was going to speak, but instead, he ended up just staring at me. I arched an eyebrow at him.

“So, are we going?”

“Yeah, um … Lisa cleared my schedule, so I thought I would invite myself along to lunch—er, brunch. I wanted to talk more to Mrs. Cooper, and we’re all hungry.”

“Michelle,” she corrected him.