fights, shootouts, and going undercover for anything. Clark and I will have a professional and mellow law office where we figure out billable hours and budgets.” Even as I said the words, I wondered if I could make that happen.
Trouble seemed to follow me sometimes.
Considering both of my sisters laughed—hard—I figured they’d need some convincing.
Donna drove a spotless SUV and first dropped Tessa off at her apartment before winding around the lake and stopping at the restaurant, where my old and trusty red Fiat awaited me. My grandpa had refurbished the car with me, and I loved it.
“Thanks,” I said, jumping out.
“You bet. I’ll see you at your opening tomorrow,” she said, sliding her sunglasses back over her eyes.
I hurried across the heated asphalt to the driver’s side door as she drove away. A truck parked beneath the tree right by the restaurant caught my eye. I squinted and looked closer. Wait a minute. It was Quint’s truck. I dug my phone out of my purse and dialed his number.
“Yo, Annabella,” he answered. “How’s your face?”
“Fine. How’s your head?” I returned, relaxing instantly.
He chuckled. “It’s clear.”
“Did you get a ride home last night?” I asked, looking at his truck again.
“Yeah. A buddy gave me a ride, and I’m getting the truck now. Seriously, though. Is everyone okay today?” he asked, sounding like he didn’t have a headache at all.
Those Albertini boys could drink. They really could.
I opened my door. “We’re all fine. My face is the worst, but some decent makeup will cover it up. I’m sorry there was a huge blowout your first night back. In fact, that was my first bar fight.” I could’ve gone my whole life without being in a bar fight, in fact. Oh well.
“Hopefully your last. Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow at your opening. Bye, Cuz.” He clicked off.
I breathed out. Good. Quint seemed okay now. Yeah, that’s what a crazy night of family could do for a guy. I opened my door and let some of the heat out.
A black convertible BMW rolled by and pulled into the lot close to Quint’s truck.
I paused.
Quint jumped out.
I looked closer to see Jolene Sullivan in the driver’s seat. The Jolene Sullivan who’d once dated Aiden in high school and had most recently posted pictures of me in the paper that were not flattering. At all. My gut clenched.
She smiled, the sight calculating.
Quint turned, caught my expression, and winced.
Forget a night with the family helping him. Quint had gone home with my nemesis.
Well, one of them.
I organized the file folders in the tallest cabinet in my office, which was at the rear of my law firm. While I’d initially chosen a different office suite down the hall for the firm, my Uncle Sean, who owned the building, ended up offering us this space, which was at the very end of the building and had more room. We would have to pay rent sooner, but that was all right to get the extra space. Clark and I had jumped on the opportunity. Right now, I didn’t have time to count my fortunes. I could not believe Quint had gone home with Jolene Sullivan.
“Maybe they didn’t sleep together,” Donna said through the speaker on my phone, which rested on the windowsill.
“Ha. If Jolene took Quint home with her, it was for one reason,” I countered. Normally I didn’t care who my cousin played mattress hockey with, but this was Jolene. The woman who really didn’t like me. Plus, she wasn’t nice. “I’m totally into the sisterhood and supporting women and never cutting one down, but it’s difficult with that one.”
Donna snorted. “She has come after you a couple of times. It’s okay to let go of the sisterhood with her.” Considering Jolene had slept with Donna’s prom date way back when, it wasn’t a surprise to get this advice from her.
“Anna?” A deep voice bellowed down the hallway. “I have your desks.”
I reached for the phone. “Cousin Rory is here. I’ll call you back.” Sliding the phone into my back pocket, I strode into the hallway and past two small vacant offices, the restrooms, two conference rooms, and Clark’s office before reaching the reception area. I stopped cold at seeing my cousin Rory Albertini with his brother. Quint, the traitor.
Quint had the grace to blush. Maybe a little. Okay, I might’ve just wished he’d blushed.
“Quintino,” I muttered.
He sighed.
Rory looked at his brother and then back at me. They had similar dark hair, brown eyes, and broad shoulders, but