on his office door heralded his assistants—yes, plural, yes three of them—and then Ben was drawn away from the window, from the thoughts of dreams and fantasies and back into the one thing that had always made sense.
Work.
“Mr. Bradford,” Baine said, even though Ben had told him hundreds of times before to just call him Ben. “I’ve got your schedule for the day.”
Ben’s eyes drifted to Spence who said, “I have those files you requested.”
Now Ben’s stare moved to Claire, who grimaced. “And I, unfortunately, have a problem for you.”
No surprise there.
Baine spoke before Ben could. “Meetings are pushed until one. Should give you enough time to deal with this problem and any others that creep up.”
Spence set the files on the desk, jumping when Sweetheart snarled.
“Don’t worry,” Ben told him. “I’m the only one on Sweetheart duty.”
Relief flashed across Spence’s face. “O-okay. Well, I mean, if you need help with her then—”
“Don’t finish that statement,” Ben said, stifling a smile. “I know you don’t mean it.”
Baine, proving once again that Ben hadn’t made a mistake in hiring the ex-felon, wove his arm through Spence’s and tugged the younger man toward the door. “He doesn’t mean it,” Baine confirmed, drawing him from the office.
Spence glanced back. “I—”
The door clicked closed.
Claire smiled, shaking her head. “Should I ask about the dog?”
“You already know the answer to that question.”
“Right,” she said, tapping at the screen of the tablet she carried. “So, I’ll just get right down to the newest crisis?”
Ben plunked down into his desk chair, ignoring the rumble beneath his knees.
“Hit me with it.”
She did.
And just as all the ones before, it was fucking brutal.
Chapter Three
Stef
Friday evening brought her friends, wine, and a throbbing ankle.
At her house for a change.
Oh, and margaritas. Somewhere along the way, Heidi had thought it was a good idea to bust out Stef’s rarely used blender, bring up the Drizly app on her phone, and bring in some tequila.
They were celebrating.
Finally, they’d managed to get a clean picture.
Which, Stef got, probably didn’t seem like a big deal. But to them—they were molecular physicists, and right now their research was focused on trying to quantify the space between atoms—it was a huge deal.
Difficult because they were trying to quantify something that couldn’t be seen with the naked eye, a bit of matter that was surrounded by other bits of matter, including electrons that were whirling around and generally making nuisances of themselves. Flying off in all directions, crashing into each other, joining other atoms and fucking everything up.
But today had gone well.
They’d gotten their photograph, and it was clear, and it was a big freaking deal!
Hence, wine and margaritas, even though at thirty-five, she knew better than to mix her liquors.
The only thing that would make her hangover not horrendous, she knew, was that it was Friday, which meant that tomorrow was Saturday. She didn’t do an early morning walk with Fred. Saturday had become beach day, and they did their walk late in the day because she liked to walk the beach at sunset.
The blender whirred, and Stef glanced down at her glass, finding it empty, unsure how that had happened.
Which was fine because Heidi was refilling it, demanding they clink cups and declare, “Cheers!”
“Brad is going to have to pour her out of here,” Cora said, her dark brown eyes sparkling with humor . . . and also a bit glazed because she, too, had been partaking in wine and margaritas.
“I thought your brothers were in town,” Kels said, draining her own glass then holding it up for Heidi to top it off.
“They left this morning,” Cora said, slugging back her margarita.
Cora had six brothers, and they’d descended on her small house ten days ago without warning—though probably she should have known they were coming since she’d mentioned to her mom that she’d gone on three dates with a man.
Her brothers were . . . protective.
And that was an understatement.
They were six feet plus, built, and could be scary as shit if they wanted. Not that they used those scary vibes with Cora, Heidi, Kels, Tammy, Kate, and Stef. With women, they were gentle, were sweet and kind and chivalrous.
And single.
Every one of them.
The humanity.
“Fuckers ate me out of house and home,” Cora grumbled. “And left me with a mountain of laundry, footprints on the floor, and a new video game system.”
Kate’s lips twitched, her red hair tumbling over her shoulders. “And that would be any different from the state of your house normally?”
Cora wrinkled