Zane slowly circled the living room, his eyes raking over Bridget with unapologetic amusement.
Bridget gripped the hem of the oversized shirt, pulling it down as far as it would go. "Mr. Sterling, please, it's a misunderstanding. I am just an employee."
Jevon's patience snapped. He grabbed Zane by the collar of his expensive leather jacket and shoved him toward the entryway. "Get out."
Zane threw his hands up in mock surrender, laughing. "An employee? Really? Since when do Rocha employees wear the CEO's custom Tom Ford shirts with no pants on?"
Jevon's mind raced. He couldn't let Zane scare her off, but he couldn't tell the truth either. He needed an excuse that explained her presence in his private sanctuary.
"She's working on a highly confidential project directly for me," Jevon lied smoothly, his voice flat and cold. "The data is sensitive, so she's reporting here, after hours."
Zane stopped laughing. He looked at the two plates of perfectly plated truffle pasta on the table. He walked over, picked up a fork, and took a bite. He chewed slowly, his eyes widening in exaggerated surprise.
"Wow," Zane said, turning to Bridget. "You must be working on a very appetizing project. You're a culinary genius, Ms. Confidential."
Bridget's face burned so hot she thought she might pass out. She knew Zane knew Jevon cooked it. She gave a stiff, humiliated nod.
Jevon glared at Zane. He walked into his bedroom and returned with a pair of grey sweatpants. He shoved them into Bridget's hands. "Go put these on."
Bridget grabbed the pants and practically sprinted back to the bathroom.
Ten minutes later, Bridget sat stiffly at the far end of the long dining table, wearing the baggy sweatpants. She kept her eyes glued to her plate, mechanically twirling the pasta around her fork.
Jevon sat at the head of the table. Zane pulled out the chair right next to Bridget and sat down, ignoring Jevon's death glare.
Zane poured himself a glass of red wine and leaned toward Bridget. "So, Ms. Frank. How old are you? Where are you from? What department do you actually work in?"
Bridget swallowed hard. She answered his rapid-fire questions in a tiny, nervous voice, feeling like she was under interrogation.
Jevon slammed his silver fork down onto his plate. The loud clatter echoed in the room. "Zane. Enough."
Zane ignored him completely. He took a sip of wine and dropped the bomb. "A beautiful girl like you must have a great boyfriend. What does he do?"
The air in the room instantly evaporated. Jevon's fingers clamped around the stem of his wine glass so hard the crystal groaned. His dark eyes locked onto Bridget's face, waiting.
Bridget's chest tightened. The image of Jacob and Chloe flashed in her mind, sending a fresh wave of nausea through her.
"I'm single," she said quietly, staring at her lap.
Jevon's rigid jawline instantly relaxed. A dark, triumphant heat flared in his eyes.
Zane caught the micro-expression on his best friend's face. He immediately leaned in closer to Bridget. "Single? New York men are blind. You know, Jevon here is single too. And he is incredibly loyal."
Bridget frowned, completely missing the subtext. She thought Zane was just being an obnoxious Hollywood wingman. She desperately wanted to change the subject.
"How is the filming for your new action movie going?" she asked.
Zane's eyes lit up. He started talking animatedly, waving his hands around to describe a stunt sequence, completely monopolizing Bridget's attention.
Jevon watched them laugh together. A violent surge of jealousy clawed at his chest. He stretched his long leg out under the table and kicked Zane's shin with brutal force.
Zane gasped, choking on his wine. He glared at Jevon, rubbing his leg under the table.
Jewen calmly ate his pasta"Your agent called me, Zane. He needs to speak with you immediately."
Bridget sensed the sudden hostility. She quickly put her fork down. "I'm full. I'll clean up the kitchen."
"Sit down," Jevon commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. He stood up, towering over the table. He looked at Zane. "My office. Now."
Zane winked at Bridget, stood up, and followed Jevon down the dark hallway toward the cigar room.
