Tailored for Trouble (Happy Pants #1) - Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Page 0,25

no. “She had two children—ten and twelve—and a husband.”

Taylor placed her hand on his leg. There was nothing she could say that he didn’t already know. Jack wasn’t a rookie, and patients died sometimes. In his case, it was usually a reaction to the anesthesia, but it still happened from time to time. It was simply unavoidable. What made him great, though, was that he never stopped caring. It was what made him careful and extremely good at what he did.

“I’ve never seen a man cry so hard,” Jack said with numbness in his voice. She knew he was trying to hold it together.

“You did your best, Jack.”

“The weird part was I kept thinking to myself that the man was an idiot for loving her because they all leave. One way or another, they just…” He sighed. “Leave us.”

Taylor leaned her head into his shoulder. “Well, I’m here for you. And I love you.”

“Thanks. I love you, too, Tiger.” He flashed a quick glance at her with his bloodshot eyes.

It was strange how she hadn’t seen it before, but this divorce had really changed him. He never used to cry or say “I love you” back. It was always “Suck it up,” “Don’t let ’em see you sweat, Taylor.” “Weakness is for losers.” Of course, that had been years ago, but clearly she hadn’t made an effort to stay close to him the way she should’ve. The same could be said for her father and other brothers. She really needed to fix that.

“Can I get you anything? Real food? Another beer?” She wasn’t about to stand in the way of him getting hammered. Hell, she might even join him.

He shook his head. “No. I’m good.”

The doorbell rang, jarring Taylor in her seat. Who could it be? She knew Mr. Two-Faced Loser had threatened to show up later, because—oh no, God forbid—she hadn’t done as she was told and hadn’t stayed at the party to hear more of his lies, but she’d only been home for ten minutes, and Bennett’s event was far from over. Maybe it was Sarah or Holly.

“I’ll be right back.” Taylor pulled herself up from the couch and opened the door.

A simmering, tux-wearing Bennett stood there, his face an angry shade of red.

“Wh—what are you doing here?” Taylor stammered, shocked as hell. They were almost at eye level, with Bennett down a step and her in the doorway.

“Why did you turn off the phone?” he growled.

Taylor blinked at him. Is he serious? “You came all the way here, in the middle of your charity event, to ask me about the phone?” Her brother lived in the Berkeley hills—over the Bay Bridge and about thirty minutes away from the Fairmont.

The man is crazy. And, frankly, so was she. Crazy-peeved. Crazy-hurt. Crazy-vengeful. She felt inches away from losing it and telling him off, but then she reminded herself of the six million dollars, her public humiliation, and the whole hiding the Lady Mary deal.

Let’s see how you feel getting used and having your world smashed to pieces. When she was done with this guy, he might not be in ruins, but he sure as hell would think twice before ever doing something like this to another woman.

He ran his hands through his thick hair and blew out a breath, almost a sigh of relief. “I thought—and then I—fuck, never mind.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“I have to get back to the ball.” He pointed at her. “But you and I aren’t finished yet. I’ll be back later.” He turned and headed toward his waiting limo.

“Wait!” she scurried after him. “Where the hell do you think you’re going? You can’t come here like this, acting all crazy, and then run off.”

He stopped short of the open car door where the driver stood, waiting for him to get inside. “Why did you leave the party like that?” Bennett asked, clearly displeased.

“I—I—well, I…” she couldn’t tell him the truth. Then he’d catch on. But what did he think happened?

“And you’ve been crying. Why?” his eyes narrowed.

Taylor cleared her throat. “Oh. That. Um…well…my brother is a surgeon and,” she pointed inside, “he lost a patient today. A mother of two. He takes it pretty hard—guess it made me a little emotional, too.”

The hardness in Bennett’s blue eyes faded away. “Oh.” He glanced down at his polished black shoes.

Look at the size of that man’s feet. I wonder if it’s true what they say about—

“So that’s why you rushed home.” He placed his large hand