she reached the office of Kade Vandergriff, a serious-faced Asian woman lifted
a hand in greeting from behind her desk but was on the phone. She motioned for Tessa
to have a seat and that she’d be a minute. Tessa sat in one of the cushy chairs along
the wall and fought the urge to gnaw on her thumbnail—a childhood habit that liked
to resurface at the worst times. Waiting rooms had never been happy places for her.
Child services. Principals’ offices. Therapy sessions. Police stations. Waiting rooms
usually meant bad news.
The woman put the phone in its cradle and came around the desk to greet Tessa. “You
must be Ms. McAllen.”
Tessa stood and put out her hand. “Yes.”
“I’m Maile, Mr. Vandergriff’s assistant.” She shook Tessa’s hand and gave her an almost
undetectable once-over, her eyebrow lifting slightly as if she was surprised by what
she found. Maybe she’d been expecting an older woman, someone more distinguished to
be the founder of a charity.
“Nice to meet you.”
Maile smiled, and it changed her whole face, bringing effortless beauty to the surface.
“Same. I’ll let Mr. Vandergriff know you’re here. He should only be a minute.”
“Thank you.”
Maile slipped back behind her desk and lifted the phone again while punching a button.
“Ms. McAllen is here to see you.” She gave a quick nod. “Yes, sir. I’ll send her in.”
Tessa gripped her documents close to her chest, butterflies the size of velociraptors
crashing around in her stomach.
“You can go on in,” Maile said, indicating the door behind her.
Tessa thanked her and took a deep breath, then headed toward the door, letting her
I’m-totally-calm-and-confident mask slip into place. She’d practiced that facade with
every new school she’d started, every new family she’d been placed with. Don’t let
anyone see fear. The knob turned with ease in her hand, and she pushed the door open.
But the face that greeted her on the other side had all her plans tumbling into a
free fall like a plane with broken wings. She could almost hear the whine of wind
rushing past her ears.
Mayday, mayday! Boom! Crash!
Van, no, Mr.
Van
dergriff, smiled and stood. “Hi, Tessa, why don’t you shut that door behind you and
come on in?”
She blinked, realizing she’d frozen there in the doorway like some slack-jawed sculpture.
She cleared her throat, her skin flushing from foot to crown. “Right, of course.”
She shut the door and somehow found her way across his very large, very posh office
and stopped in front of his desk. The vision of him standing there in his expensive
pinstripe suit with the view of downtown Dallas framed behind him in the large corner-office
windows was almost too much to take in all at once. He’d exuded confidence on Friday
night, but this version of him almost made her tip backward in her heels with the
force of his presence. He took the papers from her grasp and set them on the desk,
then took her hand between his. “I’m so happy to see you again and to see that you’re
all right after the other night. You are okay, right?”
“Uh, yeah.” She stared at him, lost for a moment in that penetrative blue gaze, the
memory of that night stirring both arousal and embarrassment. She’d been so wanton
with him . . . and way too honest. This man hadn’t just seen her naked, she’d told
him things that you only tell your closest friends—or people who you thought you’d
never see again. “You gave me a fake name.”
She cringed at her accusatory tone. Damn, that wasn’t what she’d meant to say.
He released her hand, amusement flashing through his eyes as he motioned for her to
take a seat. “No, I gave you a nickname I occasionally use. And you weren’t totally
forthcoming on the name bit either,
Tessa
, so maybe we should call it even.”
She sat down, ready to explain, but as the present moment finally settled in around
a hand in greeting from behind her desk but was on the phone. She motioned for Tessa
to have a seat and that she’d be a minute. Tessa sat in one of the cushy chairs along
the wall and fought the urge to gnaw on her thumbnail—a childhood habit that liked
to resurface at the worst times. Waiting rooms had never been happy places for her.
Child services. Principals’ offices. Therapy sessions. Police stations. Waiting rooms
usually meant bad news.
The woman put the phone in its cradle and came around the desk to greet Tessa. “You
must be Ms. McAllen.”
Tessa stood and put out her hand. “Yes.”
“I’m Maile, Mr. Vandergriff’s assistant.” She shook Tessa’s hand and gave her an almost
undetectable once-over, her eyebrow lifting slightly as if she was surprised by what
she found. Maybe she’d been expecting an older woman, someone more distinguished to
be the founder of a charity.
“Nice to meet you.”
Maile smiled, and it changed her whole face, bringing effortless beauty to the surface.
“Same. I’ll let Mr. Vandergriff know you’re here. He should only be a minute.”
“Thank you.”
Maile slipped back behind her desk and lifted the phone again while punching a button.
“Ms. McAllen is here to see you.” She gave a quick nod. “Yes, sir. I’ll send her in.”
Tessa gripped her documents close to her chest, butterflies the size of velociraptors
crashing around in her stomach.
“You can go on in,” Maile said, indicating the door behind her.
Tessa thanked her and took a deep breath, then headed toward the door, letting her
I’m-totally-calm-and-confident mask slip into place. She’d practiced that facade with
every new school she’d started, every new family she’d been placed with. Don’t let
anyone see fear. The knob turned with ease in her hand, and she pushed the door open.
But the face that greeted her on the other side had all her plans tumbling into a
free fall like a plane with broken wings. She could almost hear the whine of wind
rushing past her ears.
Mayday, mayday! Boom! Crash!
Van, no, Mr.
Van
dergriff, smiled and stood. “Hi, Tessa, why don’t you shut that door behind you and
come on in?”
She blinked, realizing she’d frozen there in the doorway like some slack-jawed sculpture.
She cleared her throat, her skin flushing from foot to crown. “Right, of course.”
She shut the door and somehow found her way across his very large, very posh office
and stopped in front of his desk. The vision of him standing there in his expensive
pinstripe suit with the view of downtown Dallas framed behind him in the large corner-office
windows was almost too much to take in all at once. He’d exuded confidence on Friday
night, but this version of him almost made her tip backward in her heels with the
force of his presence. He took the papers from her grasp and set them on the desk,
then took her hand between his. “I’m so happy to see you again and to see that you’re
all right after the other night. You are okay, right?”
“Uh, yeah.” She stared at him, lost for a moment in that penetrative blue gaze, the
memory of that night stirring both arousal and embarrassment. She’d been so wanton
with him . . . and way too honest. This man hadn’t just seen her naked, she’d told
him things that you only tell your closest friends—or people who you thought you’d
never see again. “You gave me a fake name.”
She cringed at her accusatory tone. Damn, that wasn’t what she’d meant to say.
He released her hand, amusement flashing through his eyes as he motioned for her to
take a seat. “No, I gave you a nickname I occasionally use. And you weren’t totally
forthcoming on the name bit either,
Tessa
, so maybe we should call it even.”
She sat down, ready to explain, but as the present moment finally settled in around
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