Made to be His ( The Archer Family 1)

"And yet you were invited to one of the most exclusive parties in the industry." That irritating half-smile returned, crooked as ever, and Andy steeled herself.

"Yes." Technically, she wanted to add. In truth, it had taken quite a lot of doing in order to score these tickets. Matt had swindled them from a staffer he’d been seeing at Big Hitter Magazine.

Which, coincidentally, might explain why the name on her ticket was “Fernando Gutierrez.”

She blushed and stuffed her entry badge out of sight, but his words brought her back to the present. "No offense, but I doubt you had enough high-end clients to get an invite here. Considering." His gaze swept over her and the urge to curl up and die followed swiftly behind.

No, this isn't the time for shame. This is the time for indignation. I earned this. I’m not just my brother’s sister. I’m an accomplished businessperson.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she asked. “You think I'm not a professional?"

"No, nothing like that. It's just you don't exactly look the part. I mean, I like you, but did you break out your fanciest orthopedics for this shindig? Did whatever thrift store you found that outfit in not have dressy enough overalls for the occasion?" He shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Nobody will take you seriously dressed like that. It's hard enough to be a woman in this business, but—"

"We have clients," she snipped, and it was true. Even if things weren't perfect, it wasn't like the company was a failure. They had her brother. Once his wrist healed up, that would be just fine.

So what if she hadn't personally brought in any other business? What did that matter? She helped in other capacities. She had a mind for business that Shay didn't.

That was good. Better, almost.

Logan cleared his throat and Andy turned her attention to him again. Without realizing it, she'd been staring at Shay, watching her pantomime something that was, based on her crowd's reaction, apparently hilarious.

"That your partner?" he asked.

She nodded, the will to fight swiftly draining from her.

"You know, you could do double the business if you got out there and did that." He motioned toward her friend, but Andy turned her back.

"I do what she’s doing, it’s just—"

"No, you don't." He rested his palm on her shoulder and it burned through her suit jacket and down her spine. A searing insult to her injury.

She shrugged away. If she kept her distance, maybe she could pretend the touch hadn’t affected her at all. Pretend her heart wasn’t beating a mile a minute. Even if it was, though, half of the reaction was probably pure rage. Seriously, where did he get off?

“Andy.” The way he said her name wasn’t the snappish way she was used to—like he was about to punch her on the arm and call her “sport” or something. No, this time, it was all concern.

Which, of course, only made the white-hot indignation simmering beneath the surface boil over. Insults were one thing. Pity was another.

“I can do it,” she said, her gaze narrowing. She pulled her lapels apart again and let down her bun, but all of her hair flopped in front of her face. Whatever it must have looked like, it couldn’t have been good.

Great. Just freaking great.

A big, masculine hand swept her cheek, pushing her mousy locks away so that Logan was the center of her view again. The contact had only been for an instant, but it sizzled through her body and lingered beneath the surface.

“I’m sure you can,” he said. “But why don’t you let me help? An honest deal. I can make you twice the woman your business partner is. Just give me one day.”

* * *

She surveyed him for a long moment, and it was shocking to know that such a petite, poorly dressed woman had the power to make him feel so naked. Not in a sexual way, obviously. This was Andy Archer, for Christ’s sake.

Still, there was something in her gaze that always made him feel like she was lasering directly into his soul, penetrating his core. He was loath to break the silence, but she managed to do it before he worked up the nerve.

"Why the hell would you offer me something like that?" Her eyebrows disappeared behind her horrible, uneven bangs. Her mouth was a straight line, and the whole effect gave her the look of a middle school principal patiently waiting for a student to explain himself.

And in a lot of ways, he did feel like a kid.

It was a strange offer. He knew that much. But she was his best friend's sister, and it couldn't hurt to help her. What was so wrong with being a Good Samaritan? People saved kittens from burning houses all the time without getting the third degree like this.

He shrugged. "Call it a favor."