Straddling the Line - By Sarah M. Anderson Page 0,16

and martini bars—and flung it at Bobby. “Not that rich, thanks to you.”

“That’s all going to change, I swear. This deal—”

“No. No more deals.”

“Yes.” Bobby shot back at lightning speed. “I already talked to Dad about it.”

The pain clobbered Ben in the forehead, the kind of instantaneous headache he imagined rhinoceroses got when they hit a brick wall going full tilt. Bobby’s ultimate trump card—he’d already talked to Dad.

Ben felt like he was a kid again, back when he’d wanted to go to some science center on a family trip. Billy had been too old to care one way or another; Bobby had wanted to go to the zoo. Bobby had always wanted to go to the zoo, but Ben had wanted to see something besides pitiful animals.

He and Bobby had gotten into a big fight over it before Mom had broken them up. Ben had gotten a whipping while Mom had cuddled her “poor baby” and kissed the satisfying goose egg Ben had managed to get in on a parting shot. And after everyone had calmed down, Dad had glared at Ben and firmly announced that they were all going to the damn zoo.

Ben looked around his office. Was this any different from being a tiger on display, doomed to spend his life within these four walls, dying to get out and do something different?

Bobby was sitting there, grinning smugly at the victory. Ben should be used to this—losing the battle before he knew he was fighting one—but some things never seemed to change.

He looked down at his desk. The bottom half of the brochure was peeking up at him, with a map and directions to the school barely visible.

He made a snap decision. Bobby went to L.A.; Billy went on test drives. Ben wasn’t going to spend the rest of his life staring at financial reports in this cage of an office.

It was high time Ben hit the road.

*

Josey surveyed the blanket of newspaper covering every possible flat surface in the multipurpose room. “Great job, girls.” Twenty-seven faces beamed at her. “Now, who wants to stir the paint?”

“Me! Me! Me!” a chorus of little girls all shouted at once as they crowded around the cans.

Josey couldn’t help but grin at them. The girls didn’t care that the school wouldn’t be done in time, or that she’d failed to get shop equipment. They didn’t even care that the guy who’d promised her some band instruments had called this morning with some lame excuse about a “mix-up” in accounts payable, which meant her “free” trombones would now cost a cool thousand—unless she wanted to get together on, say, Saturday night and “talk” about her donation “needs” a little more. That kind of bait-and-switch wasn’t uncommon, but it was as irritating as all get-out. Plus, she was still without instruments.

No, none of the kids—the girls clutching their cheap chip brushes, ready to paint, or the boys outside, hacking away at two-by-fours with half-rusted hand saws—cared about any of that. All they cared about was getting their very own school—and helping finish it.

Josey picked the two oldest girls, Livvy and Ally, to stir. As she crouched down to demonstrate how to pop off the lid, the hair on her arms stood up. Livvy made a noise that sounded like someone had poked her with something sharp. The rest of the room got very still, and the youngest, Kaylie, started to whimper. Josey looked up and saw everyone’s eyes focused on someone behind her. She spun on her heels to see a tall white guy in black motorcycle clothes with dark hair and baby…blue…

Ben Bolton. Here. Now.

“I’ll find you after the show.”

He’d come for her.

Her mouth went dry as her eyes met his, which flashed with that dangerous desire again. Lord, he looked good. His cheeks were tinged red, his hair was mussed up and his eyes sparkled with mischief. And here she was, looking like she hadn’t showered in two days. She’d fallen into bed after midnight and had been back out here at six this morning. Had she even brushed her teeth today?

“What are you doing here?” Her voice came out in a stutter. Excellent. She sounded as good as she looked. At least she managed to stand without landing on her butt.

One corner of his mouth moved in an upward motion. Was that a smile?

“I came looking for—” Kaylie squeaked and buried her face in Josey’s overalls. Ben startled, as if he was realizing there were other people in the