be glad she hadn’t been able to understand what he’d said. “You’re exactly like Steven described.”
“Excuse me?”
“Just like Steven said. All package, no product.”
For a moment, she couldn’t breathe.
He was lying. Steven would never have said anything like that about her. He’d loved her as much as she loved him. Anger jumped in front of her pain. “You need to leave. Now.” She tried to keep her voice steady. Strong. But her emotions were too raw, and she felt the start of tears burn the back of her eyes.
She stood up, knocking her chair over in her haste. Without bothering to right the chair, she headed straight for the door; she couldn’t get away from him fast enough.
But before she could reach it, he was right behind her.
“This isn’t over.” His voice was low and sent a shiver down her spine. “Instead of doing your nails tonight, read the contract. I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”
Without looking at him, she wrenched the door open and ran.
TWO
Jenny stared at her brother across his large desk, feeling numb. “There has to be some mistake.”
“I’m sorry, Jenny, but there isn’t.”
It was the same thing her brother had been saying ever since she’d burst into his law office unannounced, undone, and, undoubtedly unwanted (although he hadn’t said as much). For all of Paul’s faults, turning away a family member in need wasn’t one of them. Of course, she was the only member of the family who was ever in need.
Within ten minutes of leaving her mother’s restaurant, she’d known she had no choice but to go to Paul. Not if she wanted to get rid of Mr. Jared Worth.
Organization, especially filing, had never been one of her strengths. She knew trying to locate the original business documents—or any documents, for that matter—in her office would be an exercise in futility. But Paul would have them. Organization was one of his strengths. One of his many strengths. After Steven’s death, and at Paul’s unwavering insistence, she’d made copies of all her important financial documents, stuffed them into an old apple box, and given them to her brother for safekeeping.
“There has to be some mistake,” she said again.
“Jennifer.” The paternally patient tone of her brother’s voice was beginning to wear on her. “There is no mistake. Jared Worth is your partner.”
“But how?”
Seated behind his imposing mahogany desk, in a high-backed leather chair, Paul looked every inch the confident, successful lawyer in his handmade suit, blue silk shirt, and matching tie. The bookcases that flanked two of the walls and the tastefully framed diplomas only sealed the deal.
“Jennifer,” he began in that same annoying tone once more, “have you heard anything I’ve said?”
“Yes.” No. She’d pretty much tuned out after the first time he’d said partner.
“Did you, by any chance, read this contract before you signed it?”
“Of course I did.” Not.
He sighed heavily. Sometimes it just didn’t pay to consult an attorney who’d known you your whole life.
“Jennifer—”
“Please. No more Jennifers.”
“I blame myself for this.”
That perked her up. It wasn’t often her brother admitted any wrongdoing, and if he wanted to take the blame for this, she was only too happy to let him.
“I should have insisted on being the attorney to draft the documents.”
“You did, but Steven wanted to use a friend from college.”
“I should have been more insistent.”
“His friend was an attorney.”
“I am aware of that, Jennifer. At the very least, I should have been adamant on reviewing everything before you were allowed to sign.”
She was just about ready to remind her brother that he had asked to see the documents before she signed them, but the moment he got to allowed, she clammed up. Her whole family thought she was a screwup. And quite honestly, she was tired of their assessment. She wasn’t . . . not really . . . well, at least not always.
“Furthermore,” Paul continued, “when I insisted on storing duplicates of your company’s documents after Steven’s death, I should have made sure to review them then.”
Jenny wrapped her arms around her waist, wishing she would have spent those few extra minutes this morning searching for her sweater. She was bone-cold. She hugged herself tighter and tried to concentrate on something—anything—that could distance herself from what her brother was saying. From the moment she’d left her mother’s, her emotions had propelled her forward, but hearing Steven’s name spoken out loud so many times today was taking its toll. She wanted nothing better than to go back home, crawl into bed, and pull