Page 36 of Protected By My Best Friend's Brother

My phone lights up with another message:

Finally escaped budget reviews. Could use your organizational expertise. These reports are chaos.

A smile tugs at my lips despite everything. This is Lucas. My Lucas. The one who taught me to skip stones and laugh at myself. The one who came back. The one who finds ways to compliment my color-coding even in casual texts.

But he also left once. And if I’m going to risk my heart—and maybe my career—on this thing between us, I need to understand why Clara Brighton still has security clearance to waltz into his office.

Decision made, I stand up. “I’m going to talk to him.”

“Now?”

“If I don’t do it now, I’ll lose my nerve and end up reorganizing the entire floor by emotional resonance or something.”

“That’s... fair.” Natalie gives me an encouraging smile. “Go get your answers. Just try not to knock anything over in the process.”

“That was one time!”

“It was three times. This week.”

I straighten my blazer, smooth my skirt, and try to channel the professional confidence I’ve worked years to build.

I am Emma Hastings, head of market analysis, developer of revolutionary sustainability metrics, and an occasional klutz but an undeniable business asset. I don’t need to compete with Clara Brighton’s designer wardrobe or Manhattan connections. I have my own value – something Lucas recognized long before he left for New York, something he still sees now.

I reach his office door and pause, hand raised to knock, when voices drift through the partially open door.

“A merger makes perfect sense, Lucas.” Clara’s voice carries that Manhattan polish I expected – smooth, confident, with a hint of condescension. “Brighton-Walker Enterprises could dominate the sustainable energy market. Daddy’s already drawn up the preliminary terms.”

“We’ve been through this, Clara.” Lucas sounds weary; the warmth I’ve felt in his texts is completely absent. “Walker Enterprises isn’t for sale.”

“This isn’t about selling—it’s about combining our strengths. The way we used to.” A pause, followed by a softer, moreintimate tone. “Remember those late nights at Matthews & Sterling? How we ordered Thai food and restructured entire companies before midnight? You were brilliant then, Lucas. Fearless. Before all this small-town responsibility weighed you down.”

I should leave. This is a private conversation, and eavesdropping will only feed the insecurities already blooming in my mind. But my feet remain rooted to the spot, unable to move away from the collision unfolding beyond the door.

“That was a different time. A different me.”

“Was it? Or are you just playing it safe?” Her voice takes on a silky quality that makes my skin crawl. “The Lucas I knew understood the value of strategic partnerships. Both business and personal.” Her voice drops lower, sending an uncomfortable chill down my spine. “Instead of playing small-town CEO with an analyst who looks at you like you hung the moon. Though I suppose she is... sweet. In a provincial sort of way.”

The casual dismissal stings more than it should. Provincial. Like I’m some country bumpkin who doesn’t belong in their sophisticated world of corporate mergers and strategic alliances. The exact fear that’s been gnawing at me since seeing that photo.

“Don’t.” His voice hardens in a way I’ve never heard before. “You don’t get to talk about Emma or Walker Enterprises. I’m not merging my family’s company with Brighton just because your father wants to expand his empire.”

The fierce protection in his voice catches me off guard, easing some of the tightness in my chest.

“Oh, Lucas.” The sound of heels clicking on hardwood flooring signals her movement. “Are you sure that’s all Daddy wants? He always hoped we’d reunite the families. Personally and professionally. The Brighton-Walker dynasty we always talked about...”

“We never talked about that. You did. Right before you tried to orchestrate that hostile takeover of our solar division.”

My breath catches. Clara was involved in a hostile takeover attempt at Walker Enterprises. This wasn’t just about their personal relationship; there was serious corporate conflict in their history.

“Ancient history. People change. Grow up. Realize what they want...” More clicking heels. “Who they really want.”

My heart pounds so loudly that I’m sure they must hear it. I should leave. I should wait for Lucas to tell me about this himself. But I’m frozen, caught between professional dignity and personal dread.

“Clara.” Lucas’s voice turns firm, accompanied by the sound of movement—someone stepping back. “Whatever game you’re playing—“

“No games.” Her voice sounds closer now, intimate. “Just remembering what we had. What we could have again. Something more... sophisticated than small-town analytics and provincial innovations.”

There it is again – that dismissal of everything I’ve built, everything Lucas and I have been working toward together. As if our approach to sustainable technology is somehow less valuable because it wasn’t conceived in a Manhattan boardroom.

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