Patrick Klein stared at the bill on his computer screen, fingers tapping lightly on the desk.

"How unusual. Tony Lombardi actually acknowledged you as his little sister."

He looked up at Jenna Roland, surprise flickering in his eyes.

Jenna stood before his desk, hands clasped in front of her.

"I didn’t expect it either."

Patrick suddenly laughed, the wrinkles on his face smoothing out.

"Well, this works out perfectly. From now on, you’ll handle him whenever he comes. Saves the others from hiding."

Jenna pressed her lips together.

"He’s not that scary, really."

Patrick stood and patted her shoulder.

"Congratulations. Your commission this time is over fifty grand."

Jenna gave a slight bow.

"Thank you, Mr. Klein."

"Go take a break."

Jenna turned and left the office, taking the elevator down to the staff lounge.

She had just settled onto the couch when the door swung open.

Tristan Ashcroft strode in, a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"Did Tony Lombardi do anything to you?"

His voice was tight with tension.

Jenna stood, a flicker of confusion in her eyes.

"How did you know I was the one handling him?"

Tristan pulled out his phone and waved it.

"Stella Laurent texted me."

He dropped heavily onto the couch and fished a cigarette from his pocket.

The flame from his lighter danced at his fingertips.

"What was Patrick thinking, sending you of all people?"

Smoke curled around his furrowed brows.

Jenna spoke softly.

"Everyone else was busy. I’d just finished with another client."

Tristan took a deep drag, his gaze sharp.

"Did he touch you?"

Jenna shook her head.

"No. He called me his little sister and ordered two bottles of Romanée-Conti."

Tristan’s fingers twitched, ash scattering on his pants.

"What?"

His head snapped up, disbelief flooding his expression.

Jenna nodded earnestly.

"It’s true."

Tristan stubbed out the cigarette, his voice low.

"Why would he..."

His fingers drummed absently on his knee.

"I don’t know why he ordered such expensive wine," Jenna murmured. "As for the sister thing, I just said some kind words."

Tristan studied her for a long moment.

"As long as you’re unharmed."

He stood, straightening his suit jacket.

"Next time, give me a heads-up."

Jenna nodded.

"Understood, sir."

At the door, Tristan turned back with a final warning.

"Remember—avoid him if you can."

When the door closed, Jenna exhaled deeply and sank back into the couch.