Tailored for Trouble (Happy Pants #1) - Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Page 0,13

her watch. The question would have to wait until tomorrow. Tonight, Jack had invited over the whole family and her closest friends to welcome her home.

Home. It really was nice to be back where she had all the support and love she needed to start over. Even if her brothers would give her a hard time for making some bad career choices.

Taylor got out of the car, stretched her back, and then rang the doorbell. The door flew open and there was Jack, big strong Jack with his shaggy, light brown hair and bright green eyes, wearing a Forty-Niners apron and an oven mitt. His face immediately turned into a giant grin, and he pulled her inside for a rib-crushing hug.

“Our Little Tiger is back.” Then, without warning, her brother began to cry.

Taylor was speechless. Where was the customary dude-salute—the punch on the shoulder followed by the “When are we gonna toughen you up?” Or her other inspirational favorite, “What did you do this week to fuck up your life?” Also, he hadn’t called her “Little Tiger” in years. It was a nickname her brothers had given her because they said that she reminded them of a scrappy little tiger runt, all growls and tiny claws. In their minds, it was a term of endearment.

Jack’s body shook with sobs as he hugged her, and Taylor simply couldn’t understand what was happening. Maybe he’s still not over Doris?

After several awkward moments, Jack pulled away and stared down at her. “Sorry,” he wiped away his tears. “I guess I’m upset.”

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were still such a mess over Doris.” Taylor patted his arm.

“What? No. I’m talking about you!”

“Me?”

“When we saw that news footage and you were on the plane…we all thought you were dead until Dad called us and…” His voice trailed off, and his eyes teared up again.

Oh my God.

Jack reached for Taylor and hugged her again, holding her tightly, sniffling. “I’m just so happy you’re here, Taylor.”

Taylor tried to process, but it wasn’t easy. She had no idea he’d taken it so hard. She’d spoken to her father en route to the hospital that day, and while he hadn’t even heard the news himself yet, he had seemed fine. Plane engine trouble. Bumpy landing. Taylor’s safe. No problem. That’s what she remembered from the conversation. Her father had been the one to call everyone, including Sarah and Holly, to let them know she was all right. Of course, Taylor had spoken to her girlfriends about a dozen times since then—the three were already busy making plans for a girls’ night out—but she really hadn’t spoken to any of her brothers. She figured they were busy with their lives and since she was okay, no biggie.

“I’m fine, Jack.” Taylor patted him on the back, her heart thumping at an uneasy pace. She’d always thought of her brothers as…well, sort of a bunch of tough guys, at least when it came to displays of emotion.

If I was wrong about my own family, who else have I been wrong about?

CHAPTER 4

At eight o’clock the next morning, Taylor sprang from the bed in Jack’s guest room, feeling more energized and hopeful than she had in years. Even her urge to deep clean the house from top to bottom had been absent last night for the first time in months thanks to all the heartfelt hugs, good food, and great wine. No one had brought up the crash or the J.O.B. topic, and a different, more positive vibe had lingered in the air all night. Something about seeing her family’s reaction made her think. Maybe it wasn’t that people couldn’t change; it simply took the right catalyst to get them to open up those hidden, more caring behaviors.

That was the key—the one thing missing from her training course. The question now was how to unlock the compassion inside all those stiff, cold executives.

She needed a test case. And Bennett Wade would be perfect.

Taylor bounced downstairs, knowing that Jack, a plastic surgeon who specialized in reconstructive surgery, had already left for work. She began combing through his cupboards, looking for coffee, but found the kitchen void of any real food.

Eesh…She opened the refrigerator. Double eesh. Leftovers from last night’s dinner, sour milk, and a loaf of bread.

Poor Jack. He used to be a major foodie, but that had been before his wife cheated and left him for another woman. A patient of his, no less. The saddest part of all was