-LUTHER-
Tank was waiting for me when I jumped out of the helicopter, my suit jacket in one hand, my computer bag on my shoulder. He looked at me and raised a brow.
"The chopper? Really?"
I shrugged, and we fell into a steady pace toward the big house.
"It's faster than driving. Early meeting tomorrow. A client from hell is giving me a hard time signing a deal. I think he's in love with my ugly face," I muttered, not finding any humor in it. The deal was done in every way that mattered, but he kept circling like he wanted me to chase him. If it weren’t critical for the company, I’d have let him drift.
Tank snorted. "The only person who loves your ugly face is Paris. Who, by the way, was here before. Again." Tank’s jaw clenched. He didn’t like my girlfriend.
I get it. It's hard to sw
