Mr. Dennehy, thats sweet. It wasnt as if Sophie had to be any mans charity date. With long, shapely legs that stopped somewhere just short of her neck, and the sleek, sculpted features of a fashion model, shed draw any mans attention. But Brett looked at her and sawMarks sister.
His feelings for her werent all that different from what he felt for his own sister, Jessie. Just as strong, just as protective, just as pure.
He rolled his chair up to the desk and leaned his elbows on top, watching with pride and gratitude as she smoothed over the investors concern. Ill be sure we have a corsage for her at the fund-raising ball. I look forward to seeing you and Mrs. Dennehy there. Bye now.
She pressed the off button and handed over the phone with a flourish that made Brett throw his hands up in surrender. Okay, so you saved my butt. Go ahead and gloat.
Im just doing my job, big boy, she laughed. She perched on the corner of his desk and tugged the hem of her taupe silk suit down to within inches of her knees. Brett sat back and waited for the rebuke. Next time theres a publicity glitch like this, call me. Dont wait for me to see it on the evening news.
He was my third call tonight.
Sophie shook her head, making light of his doubt. We can use this in our favor. Murders the kind of thing that used to happen in this neighborhood. But no more. Not with Brett Taylor on the job, transforming the dark alleys and dangerous streets into a place where families can work and kids can play.
Brett frowned and pushed to his feet, uncomfortable with the heroic status, even if it was said in a teasing vein. He walked around the desk and picked up her cashmere stole. Youd better hit the road. Im keeping you from your date.
Sophie grabbed her purse and joined him. She turned her back to him and let him wrap her shoulders in the oversize scarf. He closed his arms briefly in a friendly hug. Thanks, kiddo. I owe you one.
I know. Im keeping tabs. A knock on the office door gave Brett the excuse to pull away. Sophie used the opportunity to pull on a pair of leather driving gloves. Expecting any reporters?
No. Maybe he was looking forward to this next visitor just a little too much. Heedless that Sophie followed him, he hurried through the outer office and opened the trailer door.
Ginny Rafferty stood outside. The harsh glare of the porch light softened in the silver shimmer of her hair. He released his anxiety on a single breath and let his features relax into a genuine smile. Her crossed arms bespoke all business, but he appreciated her sunny beauty like a breath of fresh air. And the challenging glint in those cobalt eyes stirred his thoughts away from spooked investors and a budget that wouldnt balance.
You said to meet you here, she said in greeting.
Those blue eyes shuttered and darted to the side before he heard the voice beside him. Brett?
He stepped back, feeling ridiculously jarred by Sophies intrusion. The contrast between the two women rendered him silent for a moment. Tall and petite. Dark and fair. Smiling expectantly and expressionless.
Fortunately, Sophie had the sense to see him past the awkward moment. She extended her hand in polite greeting. Im Sophie Bishop, an old friend of Bretts.
Ginny shook hands. Im Ginny Rafferty. Im a
New friend, he interrupted before she could rattle off her official job and title. Sophie had done enough for one night. He didnt need her to run interference for a police investigation. He didnt want anyone to interfere with a chance to talk to Ginny. Soph does public relations for me.
I see, said Ginny.
Well Sophie smiled and excused herself. Id best not keep Eric waiting. Ill call you in the morning to touch base. With a tilt of her chin, she leaned in and kissed Bretts cheek, then wiped the spot with her thumb as if she had left a mark of lipstick. Good night.
Good night. Brett squeezed her arm affectionately, and watched her until she climbed into her car and pulled away from the curb.
Only then did he realize that Ginny was still standing on the porch, waiting to be invited in. Brett wiped at his cheek, as if Sophies kiss was still visible, and concentrated on the woman before him. He stepped aside and held the door open for her. Ms. Rafferty.
He rolled her name around his tongue like a piece of candy. He ought to be on a first-name basis with this woman, call her Ginor Angel, a compliment to her looks she wouldnt want to hear.
At least, not from him.
As she stepped over the threshold, he noted the trappings of her trade, a blue plaid blazer that masked the bulk of a gun and badge at her waist. When she walked past him, tantalizing as a breeze of fresh air, he noticed her stiff posture and the cool expression on her face.
He set aside the inexplicable desire to hear her loosen up and laugh just once, and followed her into his office. He hadnt worried about the mess before with Sophie. But when Ginny picked up an untouched sack of fast food off the chair, he wished hed taken time to clean up the place.
She dangled the bag between her thumb and middle finger, eyeing the grease spot that had soaked through the brown paper. Did I interrupt dinner?
That was lunch. He took the bag from her to throw awayonce he located the trash can. He spotted it, supporting one corner of the scale model of the revamped city block where the Ludlow, Walton and Peabody Buildings sat. Yesterdays.
She perched on the very edge of the chair once it had been cleared. He lifted a corner of plywood and ditched the day-old food.
Do you spend a lot of time in your office? she asked. He could almost read the phrase bachelor pad on her lips, and wished he could show her the clean, uncluttered space of his condo that hed designed and remodeled himself in a nearby warehouse.
He pulled out his own chair and sat across the desk from her. So it was to be strictly business between them. Again. Thinking of the waste of those beautiful, expressive eyes of hers, when they could be sparkling with laughter or drowsy with passion instead of so cold with single-minded determination, he tried to accommodate. I do the paperwork here. But mostly Im out on the work sites. Lately, Ive been conned into attending some fund-raising events. Im working toward three million to rebuild the Ludlow block the way I want to.
Three million, hmm? Her ever-watchful eyes continued to scan the office. I think youd be a natural at schmoozing people for money.
Ouch. Though the comment was superficially complimentary, her tone of voice gave her words a condemning twist.
Feeling the unjust sting of failure, he pushed to his feet and circled the desk. He couldnt let her tauntintentional or otherwisego unchallenged. He shoved aside a stack of bills and sat on the edge, right in front of her. Close enough that his knee brushed hers when he crossed his legs at the ankle. He ignored the traitorous rush of heat that shot toward his toes at that slightest of contacts. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and flexed his muscles in his most intimidating display of force.
Im doing a good deed here, angel. At best, Ill break even. Any profit I might end up with will be reinvested in future projects to improve the neighborhood.
Undaunted by his face-saving attack, she tipped her chin and looked straight up into his eyes. You seem to have several projects in mind, Mr. Taylor. Youre quite the philanthropist. How much money have you raised so far?