Mine: A Stepbrother Romance: (With bonus novel Bossy!) (31 page)

“They played a part,” she responds quietly.

“A part? He’d still be alive if it wasn’t for that job.” I know that truth in every fiber of my being.

“You’re right. He’d probably be alive.” She pauses and picks her cup back up, but doesn’t drink. “But we’d still be divorced, and he’d still be troubled.”

I shake my head in denial, but she doesn’t let up.

“Claire, you blame them for everything, and there was never a reason to tell you differently, but if you think about it, you know your father’s problems didn’t begin and end with his job. Cooper Senior was a decent man working with tight budgets. Your father respected him or he wouldn’t have stayed on so long. His son isn’t nearly the man he was, and it showed as soon as he took over.”

She sighs. “I’ll never deny that the job pushed him over the edge, but your father was drinking even before he got sick, and nobody forced him to give up therapy, or to abandon his family. My career was taking off when it got bad. He could’ve walked away when the tremors started, but he chose to stay. He liked things the way they were, with both his department and his family depending on him. One or the other,” Mom lifts a shoulder in a sad sort of shrug, “He probably could have adjusted to, but losing both of those set him adrift.”

“He loved us.” My voice comes out small and weak. I feel like a little girl again and I don’t want to hear what she’s saying. I don’t want to remember the fights they had when I was in bed, or the nights he spent away.

She nods, and her eyes are shining with tears just like mine. “He did, and I don’t want you to ever doubt that. Something in him was broken, baby, and it wasn’t anyone’s fault.” Mom draws in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. “I disagreed with your father back then, but still loved and stayed with him as long as I could. I disagree with Garrett now, but it’s not going to stop me from loving him, or marrying him. This isn’t our fight anymore.”

For several long moments we’re both quiet. This conversation was probably years in the making. As an adult I can understand how being married to Dad would’ve been hard on her, but he was my father. He’ll always be my hero. She may have put it behind her, but I’m not sure I can so easily dismiss feeling like a traitor for defending Cooper Holdings.

“Do you really love Garrett?” I ask, changing the subject.

Mom smiles a little self-consciously. “You don’t see him like I do. I know he seems like a hard man, but yes, I love him, and he cherishes me. Don’t judge him without knowing him. We’ve both seen our share of loss. He needs someone soft to come home to, where he can let his guard down.

“If we’re being completely honest? I would rather he throw the case in their face and walk away, but he’s not his company. We’ve talked about it, he knows my feelings, and sometimes when you love someone, you have to look beyond the black and white.”

“I’m not sure I can.” Either with the case, or Declan.

“I can’t tell you what to do. You’re too big for that now.” She reaches over and grabs my hand. “But my advice, if you want to hear it, is to keep an open mind and use this as an opportunity to learn. This case isn’t yours. It’s Declan’s, and he’s going to have to live with whatever choices he makes.”

I snort. “If you know him, you know he couldn’t care less.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t believe that, and if you do, I don’t think you know him as well as you think you do. From what I’ve seen, he’s very much like his father. They aren’t easy men, but their feelings run deep.”

“I don’t think he likes us.” How can my mother defend a jerk like him?

Mom’s laugh comes out more like a snort. “Of course he doesn’t. I think it’s more me than you though, sweetie. I’m not his mother,” she says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “But I
am
yours, and I know that no matter what you choose, you’ll find a way to make something good out of it. Even if that means learning the ins and outs of Cooper Holdings so you can nail them to the wall next time around.”

I give her a lopsided grin. “So that’s your angle.”

She smiles, eyes glowing with pride. “I know my girl.”

For the first time since reading the case, I start to feel like things might eventually be okay. When I invited Mom to meet me, a part of me had wanted to make her as angry as I’d been. I’d felt suckered into a situation I hadn’t been ready for, but somehow she’s managed to make me feel better. I guess that’s what mothers are for.

I want this internship. It’s not going to be easy, and I’m probably going to hate both Declan and myself more than a few times, but I’m not giving up on the job. If I can do this, I can do anything.

Mom watches me knowingly. “You look like you’re thinking hard.”

“Just thinking about work. I’ll do my job, but I won’t promise to stop trying to get Declan to drop it. We’re defending someone who doesn’t deserve it, but...” I trail off, throwing my hands out.

She hops in, “But your brother-to-be is stubborn, single-minded and dedicated to finishing what he’s started. Especially when it involves a contract. It’s possible I know someone else with similar character traits.”

“You forgot bossy and full of himself.” And sexy, and great in bed.

The way she looks at me makes me wonder if I have something on my face. Or if maybe I said that last part out loud. It’s only a moment, then she laughs. “They are quite the pair, aren’t they? But you have to admit, they make it look good.”

“Mom!” Okay, that’s officially enough soul baring for today, and this is not a conversation I’m having with my mother.

I drain the last of my mocha and push my chair back. “I should get home. I’ve got a ton to learn about this case if I have any hope of figuring it out.”

“Promise to tell me if it’s too much. I’ll have Garrett find something else for you to do. Just because you
can
do something doesn’t always mean you
have
to.”

“No.” I shake my head. “We have a meeting with Cooper tomorrow. I want to at least see his face. To look him in the eyes and see if he’s as bad as I remember.” I grit my teeth. “After that, we’ll see.”

She nods. “I think you have to figure this out for yourself. Just remember that I’m always here if you want to talk, okay? I know I’ve been busy with the wedding, but I’ll make time.”

I nod and say good-bye. Mom invites me to go shopping with her, but right now I don’t mind walking alone. There’s a lot to think about. About Cooper. About Declan.

Arrgh, Declan!

This job would’ve been complicated enough without having had sex with my new boss. Four months ago I had the excuse of not knowing who he was. I don’t have that excuse anymore, but it still thrills me when he looks at me and I see it in his eyes that he’s remembering that night. Or when he touches me and I know we’re both wanting more.

And then he opens his mouth and I remember he’s a total jackass and about to be my step-brother.

It’s messy and confusing, and doesn’t change a thing about how much I want him.

Life is easier in black and white. This shades of gray stuff is hard.

T
he elevator ride seems longer today, giving me a little time to think, especially about the Cooper case. This internship is important to me, and after my talk with Mom, I’m determined not to give up. Besides, there’s no way I’ll be able to concentrate on another case while I know Declan’s working on this one.

I’ll do the best I can, and then make up for it when I’m out of school and have my own firm where I can kick ass and take names. Declan’s wrong. Law isn’t just about billable hours and contracts. It’s about making a difference in people’s lives when they need it most. Not all lawyers are the sleazeball punch-lines in Carl’s jokes.

Just some of them, like Declan.

The elevator dings and I shuffle in to find Carl looking bored as usual, at least until he sees me. Then he lights up with a big smile. “Morning, Ms. Anderson.” He pauses coyly, and I ready myself for whatever he has to throw at me. “What's the difference between a vacuum cleaner and a lawyer on a motorcycle?”

Even knowing what’s coming, I’m too tired to think straight. Last night was late, filled with documentation, legal briefs, conflicting statements, court orders and on and on and on, until I thought my head would explode. A serious caffeine injection is going to be necessary before I actually start doing anything. “They both suck? Sorry, Carl. No idea.”

He grins. “Good effort, kiddo, but no cigar. The vacuum cleaner has the dirt bag on the
inside
.”

My lips twitch a bit at the corners and Carl laughs, pointing at me with a sort of
gotcha
gesture. I wonder if he actually dislikes lawyers that much, or if all lawyer jokes are just that awful.

“Hey, you alright? You look pretty beat.” He looks me over with a grimace. “It’s only your second day, Ms. Anderson. It usually takes at least a week before this job sucks the life out of your soul.”

Apparently my concealer isn’t concealing nearly as well as I’d hoped. “Just call me Claire.” Formality never sat very comfortably with me. “I stayed up way too late trying to make sense of the case, that’s all. Gotta make sure I pull my weight, right?”

“Alright, Ms. Ander—Claire.” He grins apologetically, then leaning over the reception desk, he waves me closer. When I step forward, he whispers while looking around as if he’s afraid of getting caught. “No one here works as hard as they pretend to. Don’t let yourself burn out by trying to impress them. They won’t appreciate it anyway.” He winks and grins, then slides back into his chair.

“I think I might be the exception to that, but I’ll keep it in mind.” I yawn. “I’m just going to go... coffee. In the place, with that thing, that makes coffee.”

He nods at me as I walk off, and when I look back over my shoulder, he’s back to looking bored. What an odd character. The fact that Carl still works here and hasn’t been tossed out a window yet gives me a little bit of hope that my mother’s new husband isn’t nearly as dull and humorless as he seems.

Shutting the door to my little office, I’m thankful for the quiet that felt so isolating yesterday. I’m so tired I feel hungover. This had better be some high-octane java. I drop my briefcase on my desk and set my cup down. Spinning my chair around, I flop into my seat.

A loud, penetrating blast like the horn of a cruise ship explodes from under my butt. I jump to my feet in panic. My heart threatens to burst out of my chest, and the noise feels like a pickaxe through my skull, a high pitched whine torturing my eardrums as if I just came out of a nightclub. The sound echoes off the walls out in the common area.

What the hell? I know we’re high up, but is this an air raid drill?

Everyone in the main room turns to look in my direction. Even the office doors pop open and people stick their heads out, wondering what on Earth is going on. I’m absolutely mortified, and I don’t even know why. I shrug my shoulders and they glare at me, like somehow I failed to sit properly and this is all my fault.

Dropping to the carpet to look underneath my seat, the culprit is easy enough to spot. An air horn, duct taped to the column so the trigger was pushed as soon as I sat down. I’m almost,
almost,
ready to charge over and let Carl take the blame, but as the ringing in my ears slowly fades, an all too familiar laugh comes faintly through the door to Declan’s office.

His feelings run deep? Not as deep as I’m about to shove this air horn.

I get up, furious. Two purposeful strides and I tear open his door. I have the satisfaction of seeing him jump before a shit-eating grin spreads on his handsome face. “Good morning. Did you just come in? I thought I heard something.”

Slamming my hands down on his desk, I lean over it and snarl. “What the
hell
do you think you’re doing?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He’s laughing while he says it, unable to keep a straight face.

“You gave me a freaking heart attack!” There’s a staple remover on his desk, and I throw it at him, bouncing it off his broad chest. “You’re an asshole.”

“Ouch!” He laughs and rubs where it hit. “What? Can’t hack it in the big leagues? Going home to cry to mommy?”

“Big leagues? You mean little league, right? This is ridiculous. What the hell is your problem?”

“What can I say? I was feeling a little
horny
this morning and thought of you.”

“You... You!” I’m so mad I can barely speak. “You’re a child dressed up like a man and I’m supposed to learn something from
you
? Our parents are going to be thrilled when they hear about this.”

He stands up, and suddenly he’s the one looking down on me. The amusement slides off his face and I’m faced with the wrath of an angry god. I take a step back, nervous and not happy with how instead of being afraid, I’m hoping he channels that passion into kissing the hell out of me like I know he can.

There is something seriously messed up about my judgment.

“Don’t you fucking dare go running to Mommy about this. She has no place here. This is about you and me. And if you think for an instant that my father would appreciate you running off to tell on me because you can’t take a joke, you have a lot to learn, little girl.”

A joke? I’d throw more crap, but I need this job and there’s nothing in easy reach that would be satisfying anyway. “Fine!”

He slams his hands onto his desk, right next to mine, leaning in so close that our noses almost touch. “Fine!”

I lick my lips, enjoying that even angry, he watches. “But just remember that you started it, because I
will
get you back. When you least expect it. And it will be glorious.” This close, I can smell his cologne. It reminds me of his body glistening over mine and the scent of him in my sheets. I’m supposed to be furious, but I want to turn my head a fraction of an inch and capture his lips.

Focus! I force myself to frown. “You’ll never know what hit you.”

“You mean like this?”

“Huh?”

I don’t have time to react before he does exactly what I was resisting. His mouth covers mine, and I can’t help but lean into his kiss, electricity arcing between us. He pulls away, and I can tell from his smug expression that he knows how much I wanted that. The only thing that keeps me from being humiliated is the hunger in his eyes. Oh, he did it to piss me off, but he wanted it too.