Tailored for Trouble (Happy Pants #1) - Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Page 0,12
and bruises. A damned miracle.
After a week, the press finally moved on to chase something shinier, and Taylor began the soul-bruising task of packing up her apartment to move back to California. Everything would go into storage, and she would stay with Jack, the youngest of her three older brothers. Recently divorced with no kids, he had plenty of extra space and insisted Taylor stay as long as she needed.
That was the second miracle Taylor experienced in recent days: Her family hadn’t said a word about her failed business venture. Nor had her father uttered a peep about how she’d quit her job—something that had been a topic of many heated debates since last February. But this time, not a word.
They’re probably saving up all the lectures and criticisms for when they see me in person tonight. Like a school of judgment piranhas. It didn’t matter how old she got, the men in her family always treated her like she was a child in need of a “good strong talking-to.” But they liked to do it gang-style.
Nevertheless, as Taylor stared from her car up at her brother’s two-story home with its dark brown shingles and its orange tree in the front yard, she felt grateful to have somewhere to land. She needed time to digest, to untangle the mess inside her head, and to figure out what to do next. With her debts, getting a job was certainly highest on her priority list, but her heart wasn’t ready to let go of her dream: HumanitE.
I could reconsider Bennett’s offer, she thought for the five-hundredth time. It certainly would resolve her financial problems and give her the opportunity to pilot her training program. Not to mention having a client like Bennett Wade would make a nice springboard.
But Bennett Wade? Bennett. Wade. There was simply no way for her to maintain her professional demeanor in his presence. The domineering, tactless, playboy-bully provoked so many emotions—outrage, fascination, disgust, and…well, she didn’t know, but those undecipherable sentiments were the source of many restless nights and cleaning episodes.
On the other hand, maybe I need to give him a chance? After all, he did track me down in Seattle. Of course, he had probably already been there for some other business and just happened to realize she was in town at the same time.
Fine. Okay. But he saved my life. He’d also taken care of her before and after the crash.
The phone on the passenger seat of her car made a little chirp, reminding her that the battery was low again. She still felt a mixture of anxiety and excitement every time she looked at the thing. It was Bennett’s phone. He hadn’t disconnected the device after she’d forgotten about it being inside her pocket, but it also hadn’t rung even once. Odder still was the lack of a passcode.
Of course, the only thing on the device—yes, she’d snooped, okay? Who wouldn’t?—was a record of that call from his mother plus some apps, including the tracking one, which as far as she could tell had remained active.
At first, Taylor had thought to mail the thing back, but then two days after the crash, a text came in: I’m sorry. -B
That’s all it had said.
And, yes, she believed it had been meant for her. Bennett knew perfectly well she still had the phone. (Tracking app. Phoenix. Who else?)
That was when Taylor felt an odd sort of closeness or connection or…something—she didn’t really know—with Bennett. He could’ve had Robin ask for it back. He could’ve deactivated it. But he hadn’t. And she knew he could check her location whenever he liked. Was he checking it now and knew she’d left Phoenix?
Admittedly, it was a bizarrely intimate, private kind of thing, knowing that either of them could break the link at any time, yet neither of them had.
But what was his excuse? Taylor obviously felt there was some unfinished business, but what about him? Was Bennett waiting for her to reply to the text? Was he waiting for her to apologize for having yelled at him after the crash? She didn’t know.
Why not ask?
Taylor thought it over for a moment. A quick conversation would help her settle the question related to accepting his offer. It would also allow her to finally say that she truly felt sorry for having yelled at him—it hadn’t been the time or the place to sermonize and was a complete knee jerk in the heat of the moment. Not my best moment.