Page 191 of Double Daddies
“I’ll handle it,” I say, cutting her off with a nod. “Anything else?”
Her gaze flicks to Elijah. “Your brother has already been in two meetings this morning. He said to let you know that he’s ‘making friends.’”
I sigh as Elijah smirks. “That’s what I do, Ezra,” he says, stepping into my office ahead of me. “You build the empire, I keep everyone happy.”
“And who keeps you happy?” I ask dryly, closing the door behind us.
He pauses, pretending to think it over. “You, obviously. What would I do without my overachieving, impossibly serious twin keeping me grounded?”
I shake my head but can’t suppress a faint smile. He’s not wrong. For all his spontaneity and charm, Elijah relies on me to keep the wheels turning. And for all my meticulous planning and control, I know I’d be lost without his optimism and instinct.
We settle into the office, the afternoon light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Elijah takes his usual seat across from my desk, his posture relaxed yet somehow commanding still. Even here, in the space that’s supposed to be mine, he has a way of filling the room.
“So,” he says, his tone shifting to something more serious. “What’s the plan for FireBird? Donovan’s been circling like a hawk, and you know he’s not the patient type.” Donovan is our contact for the DOD.
I lean back in my chair, steepling my fingers as I consider the question. “The plan is the same as it was yesterday. We don’t move forward until we’re certain the tech is ready. I’m not risking a launch with unresolved variables.”
Elijah nods, but his eyes narrow slightly, the wheels turning in his head. “And if the board pushes for a timeline?”
“They’ll get one when I’m ready,” I reply firmly. “Not before.”
There’s a moment of silence, a rare pause in the constant push and pull of our partnership. Then Elijah leans forward, a spark of mischief returning to his eyes.
“Speaking of unresolved variables,” he says, “what did you think of the little raven-haired beauty from the coffee shop?”
I freeze for half a second, caught off guard by the sudden shift in topic. “I think she makes a decent cup of coffee,” I mention, deliberately vague. He doesn’t know about our shared moment in the back room.
Elijah doesn’t buy it. “Come on, Ez. Don’t play coy with me. You stared at her half the time I was there.”
“She’s just a barista,” I counter, my tone carefully measured. But saying that, my brain instantly wants to reject the idea. She’s been my mind’s constant companion since this morning.
He grins, leaning back in his chair. “Maybe. But something tells me she’s more than that. Small world and all.”
I don’t respond, turning my attention to the spreadsheet glowing on my screen. But as much as I try to push the conversation aside, I can’t ignore the unease creeping in. Elijah has always had a knack for seeing things I’d rather keep buried—even from myself.
He doesn’t bring it up again, and the afternoon passes in a blur of meetings and conference calls. By the time eight o'clock rolls around, my shoulders are stiff, and a headache starts to pound behind my eyes.
I lean back in my chair, trying to unclench my jaw. I feel a little like a spring wound too tight, ready to snap.
“Still working?” Elijah's voice floats through the doorway. He's leaning against the frame, a smirk playing on his lips. “Thought we agreed you were going to try to be less of a workaholic.”
I shrug, running a hand through my hair. “Just wrapping up a few things.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Doesn't look like a few.”
I lean back up, studying him. He's wearing his usual casual style, the kind that looks effortlessly pristine. It's an image he's worked hard to perfect. But I know the truth beneath the layers—that there's a reason we're so similar, even though we're complete opposites.
“It’s fine,” I say, dismissing the concern in his eyes. “I’ll be done soon.”
“If you say so,” he replies, shrugging. “Hayden and the guys wanted to go down to the pub tonight. We’ve worked our asses off this week and I think it’s time for some drinks.”
“Then go have fun,” I tell him, turning my attention back to the spreadsheet on my screen. “But don’t get too crazy.”
He rolls his eyes, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It’s like you think I'm a child. I've got this under control, big brother. Just come have some fun once in a while, huh?”
I look up from my desk and level my gaze at him. “I have fun,” I say, trying to keep the defensive tone out of my voice. “I just have responsibilities, too.”
His grin turns sly. “We both know that’s a load of crap. You’re the most serious person I’ve ever met.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Just remember, the world won’t stop spinning if you take a day off.”
