Good Girls Don't (Donovan Brothers Brewery 1)

The door of the office opened behind him, and Luke looked back to be sure it wasn’t a big hulking bastard wearing a sign that said I Knocked Up Simone Parker. But it was just a petite blonde woman in pink scrubs. No such luck.

Thunder cracked in the distance, and Luke looked at his watch, hoping that he’d been standing there for hours and the day was almost done. But no, it wasn’t even noon. The whole day stretched before him, and most of it would be spent sitting next to his stubborn-ass partner. And now he didn’t even have the small hope that Tessa Donovan might call again.

Shit. The nausea in his stomach had focused itself into one spot, and Luke could already feel the ulcer starting. Yet another one to add to his collection.

CHAPTER SIX

BITCH, TESSA THOUGHT to herself, squeezing her fists tighter. Her knuckles shone white beneath the skin, and her nails bit into her palms, but she squeezed harder. She wanted to get up and pace, but she wouldn’t give Roland Kendall’s snotty receptionist the pleasure. The woman was already nasty enough, and she’d clearly relished the past four hours of watching Tessa squirm.

Two hours into it, she’d been forced to call in sick to work. She’d explained to Eric that her doctor wanted to run routine blood tests but she needed to go to a lab in Denver. To temper the lie, she said she’d take a vacation day and do some shopping, too.

He’d seemed distracted, and when she’d asked why, Eric said he was having trouble getting in touch with Roland Kendall. Tessa had felt as if she’d been flashed into another dimension at that moment. A world made of ice and anxiety.

But she’d talked herself down. Eric always had trouble getting in touch with Kendall because Kendall made a point of being hard to reach.

Nothing had changed except that now he was keeping two Donovans waiting.

Tessa glared at the receptionist’s bent head, focusing hard in the hopes that frustration would act as a magnifying glass and burn a hole into the woman’s scalp. But she didn’t even twitch. Not until Kendall’s office door opened and the man himself came into view.

Tessa sprang to her feet as Kendall walked out with his arm thrown around the shoulders of a man Tessa recognized from the newspaper. The Denver mayor, maybe? No, someone more important. A congressman.

Though she was standing three feet away, Kendall ignored her entirely as he walked his friend out.

For a moment, she considered following them out, then decided that kind of determination might get you arrested when a U.S. congressman was involved. So she held her ground, and a few minutes later, Kendall returned. He spared her a hard look.

“Mr. Kendall,” Tessa said brightly as she stepped into his path. “I’m Tessa Donovan.”

“I know who you are.”

Uh-oh. His voice dripped frost and disdain. He knew. There was no other explanation.

“I hoped we might be able to speak in private for a few minutes.”

“Is there really any point to that?”

Oh, God. This was bad. “I hope so, yes.”

“I’ll save you the time. I—”

“Please?” she asked softly. “Just one minute?” The man finally relented, whatever good that would do her.

He stalked into his office with Tessa on his heels. She closed the door behind her.

“Sit,” he said gruffly, waving toward a chair. She sat, but when he only stood above her, looming and stern, she stood again.

“My brother—” she started.

“Yes,” he spat, “your brother.”

Tessa cleared her throat and tried to think of some tack that might work. Unfortunately, the path to “please forgive my brother for doing your daughter” was narrow if nonexistent. “His behavior was…unwise.”

“Unwise!” Kendall said. “This is a multimillion-dollar business and he couldn’t keep his pants on for the time it takes to strike a deal.”

“Ah…” Tessa’s mouth wanted to say something about Kendall’s daughter not being able to keep her pants on, either, but she took a deep breath instead of slapping him in the face with that. “As a young businessperson myself, I’ve seen how work and social lives can so often intersect—”

“Unwise,” he repeated as if Tessa hadn’t spoken. “What kind of idiot risks a business deal over sex?”

Your daughter? her mind screamed. But she smothered her anger with a solemn nod. “Mr. Kendall, I’m sorry. It’s—”