“Yeah? What’s wrong with Lincoln?” came a familiar voice from the doorway.

Cole glanced over his shoulder to see the very topic of conversation strolling into Jake’s office. Lincoln sat in the chair next to Cole.

“Wanna come to dinner?” Jake asked Lincoln.

“No,” Cole said, pointing a finger at Jake. “No way.”

“Sure, I love dinner,” Lincoln said, ignoring Cole. “When?”

“You’re not going,” Cole told Lincoln.

Jake frowned. “Well, at least one of you has to come. If I go home and tell Grace I didn’t find her tenth dinner party member, she’s going to be cranky, and when she’s cranky, I don’t get laid.”

“I’ll be there,” Cole said.

Jake lifted an eyebrow. “Changed your mind, did you?”

Cole didn’t rise to the bait.

Jake likely knew full well that Lincoln was the worst possible alternative.

Women seemed to fall in love with Lincoln just for existing. Cole had seen smart, rational women all but offer to have the man’s baby in exchange for a smile.

Not that Lincoln ever fell in love back. In fact, whenever Cole so much as teased him about getting serious, Lincoln got this haunted look like he was torn between puking and punching something.

No way was Cole going to subject Penelope to that. The woman needed a friend, not a broken heart.

“What did I just miss out on?” Lincoln asked Jake. “I sense subtext.”

Jake jerked his chin at Cole. “Dude can’t make up his mind how he feels about Penelope Pope.”

“Ah, the cute brunette who’s gunning for your job.”

“Not my job yet,” Cole grumbled. “Unless you two know something…”

Lincoln held up his hands. “Dude, believe me, I’ve tried. Cassidy’s tight-lipped on this one.”

“Tight-lipped about what?”

Cole didn’t even have to turn around to know that Cassidy was standing in the doorway.

“Is this what you guys do all day?” Cole asked the group. “Just loom around other people’s office doorways and eavesdrop?”

“Why don’t you join the team and find out?” Jake asked.

“Yeah, Cassidy,” Cole said, tilting his head back and looking at his maybe-soon-to-be employer. “Why don’t I join the team and find out?”

Cassidy rolled his eyes, crossing both arms across his chest as he leaned against the doorway. “Yeah, I can see you’d be such a positive influence on my team’s productivity.”

“Glad you’re seeing the light,” Cole replied. “Should I start today? Jake here doesn’t mind sharing his office.”

“I do. I definitely mind,” Jake said.

Cassidy sighed. “I was going to call you tomorrow, Sharpe, but since you’re here—might as well get it over with.”

Cole felt his stomach drop suddenly. Cassidy’s words were hardly the encouraging pep talk of someone about to make a job offer.

He swallowed his bitterness.

He wasn’t going to get the job. They were going to give it to Penelope Pope.

And damn it, she probably deserved it.

But so did he.

And he needed it. He couldn’t let Bobby get kicked out of his home. Sure, his brother could move in with Cole, but they’d tried that, and Bobby had been bored out of his mind while Cole was at work, and Cole had been stressed and irritable, worrying about his brother more than he probably needed to.

Cole glanced at Lincoln and Jake, making a joking finger-slash-across-the-throat gesture. Neither of his friends said anything as he left Jake’s office, but it made him feel slightly better that they looked almost as disappointed by Cassidy’s dire tone as Cole felt.

Cassidy was already heading down the hall to his office, so Cole followed after him, feeling a good deal less jubilant than he usually did in the Oxford offices.

Abruptly he realized that it could be the last time he strolled these hallways.

Of course, there was always the chance that he could continue his current status as contractor, except…

That would be up to Penelope now, wouldn’t it?

Cassidy was already sitting when Cole entered the office, careful to keep his disappointment off his face. Careful not to show how much he cared.

He wasn’t sure why it was so important to uphold his happy-go-lucky reputation, only that the thought of anyone feeling sorry for him grated on his nerves.

“How’s it going?” Cassidy asked, once Cole had settled into the chair across from him.

Cole resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “It’s fine, Cassidy. Can we just rip the Band-Aid off?”

Cassidy’s brows lifted. “What is it you think I’m about to say?”

Cole reached forward and snatched a pen off the desk, just so he had something to do with his hands, then put it back just as quickly.

“You’re giving the job to Penelope Pope.”

Cassidy’s chair spun slightly, his eyes never leaving Cole’s. “She’s damn good. You saw that.”

“Yeah,” Cole said, slowly exhaling a long, tired breath. “She is.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Cassidy said.

“Why, so that I’ll be less bitter about it at dinner parties?” Cole asked, trying to keep the snide out of his tone, and failing.

“I don’t give a damn whether you have PMS at our dinner parties,” Cassidy said. “I’m glad you like—or at least respect—Penelope, because the two of you are going to be spending an awful lot of time together.”