8

“Daisy, Greg’s not attacking you. He’s seen plenty of careers go up in flames, and he’s only trying to look out for your best interest.” I nodded toward the stack in her hands. “He’s secured multiple deals that are extremely substantial, and he wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t see your potential.”

Daisy laughed, a sound that told me I was wasting her time—and mine—and she began reviewing the first sheet. “No. Definitely not this one. It’s too physical, and I can’t stand sweating. Next.” She tossed the paper and picked up another one, instantly degrading Greg for presenting it to her.

While she moved on to the third one, I gazed at Kendall, her eyes never leaving her sister, like she was waiting for an upcoming demand.

Because I couldn’t fucking help myself, I asked, “What did you do before becoming Daisy’s assistant?”

She inhaled a large breath, slowly turning toward me. “I was an artist.”

“Artist?” Daisy snickered. “Let’s not get carried away. You were a graphic designer.”

“Yes,