corruption, it was true. It was all true.
He wasn’t proud of what he’d done next, but it was nothing compared to what she’d done.
No matter how nice she might be to his sister, Darcy wasn’t someone he could trust.
As if he’d conjured her by thinking too hard, the glass door to the patio slid open and Darcy stepped inside.
His fists clenched. With effort, he unclenched them, then very deliberately leaned against the kitchen counter as if he felt nothing. Act as you wish to feel.
This too would pass.
Darcy’s gaze flicked over his raw knuckles. “Are you okay?” She spotted the phone. “That’s my phone!” She bent down and scooped it up. “What happened?” She looked up from the device, a question clear in her gaze.
He couldn’t answer. Didn’t say a word. Couldn’t. He had to get outside. This minute, or he might yell. Or worse. Make a bigger mess of things. The rage felt like a tangible thing, a churning ball of sparks and darkness in his abdomen, making him feel shivery and sick.
As Will brushed past her, Darcy looked up from her phone, her eyes narrowed and her expression dark. “Stan called, I see. Is that why you—”
He kept going, on out the back door. Fortunately, Darcy didn’t follow.
~*~
Darcy sat on the front stoop to call Stan. Not exactly private, but nowhere was truly private in her supposed new home, not even the freaking bathroom. Will could come back any minute, and she wasn’t ready to face him. Her fingers were shaking as she poked the phone’s smooth touchscreen, cycling through menus. Not good. She had to be professional, a sharp businesswoman, a vice president. Instead, she felt like a little girl who wanted to cry over a stupid boy.
Get a grip. It was Will Dougherty, not exactly angel material. Hardly a walk-on-water guy. How dare he look at her so accusingly?
What had Stan said that had gotten him so riled up?
The phone rang once, then a male voice answered. “Stan’s line.”
“Mathias? What are you doing in Stan’s office? Is he around?”
“Hi, Darcy. He’s out to lunch.” Mathias chuckled. “And for once, I don’t mean that metaphorically. So I hear you’re staying home again today. This a long-term thing?”
Darcy glanced back over her shoulder at the condo living room. Will was still absent. Probably down by the water, handsomely brooding. “I’m not sure how long. But I’m digging through all the start-up plans for Jefferson StarSoap and the California Dreamin’ shampoo from home.”
“I’m sure you are.” Mathias sounded almost annoyed. Why? She was just doing her job. The smile returned to his voice with his next sentence. “Stay at home as long as you like, far as I’m concerned. Pave the way for telecommuting. I could use it.”
Oh, right. Didn’t he have a kid who had cerebral palsy or cystic fibrosis or something?
“How’s your son doing these days?”
Now he sounded surprised. “Good, thanks for asking. He got fitted with a leg brace that’s helping a lot, and his new PT is—” He stopped, and when he spoke again, his tone was wary. “Why do you want to know? It’s not taking any time away from my work, I assure you. Never has, never will.”
Darcy bit her lip. “I didn’t think it was, Matt.”
“Then why bring it up?”
Was it that unusual for her to ask her coworkers about their personal lives? “I was…it’s been…I haven’t been back to the office in a while, just wanted to catch up.”
“Mmm.” He sounded noncommittal. “I hear you’re living with Will Dougherty. In a manner of speaking.”
“Thora tell you?”
“She might have mentioned. Be careful with that, okay? The guy is a pain.”
Darcy frowned at the phone. “Tell me about it.”
“He’ll shaft you when you’re not looking.”
She’d thought so too, but… “You mean the embezzlement?”
“Embezzlement? I meant—. Never mind. Just don’t let yourself get in too deep, that’s
He wasn’t proud of what he’d done next, but it was nothing compared to what she’d done.
No matter how nice she might be to his sister, Darcy wasn’t someone he could trust.
As if he’d conjured her by thinking too hard, the glass door to the patio slid open and Darcy stepped inside.
His fists clenched. With effort, he unclenched them, then very deliberately leaned against the kitchen counter as if he felt nothing. Act as you wish to feel.
This too would pass.
Darcy’s gaze flicked over his raw knuckles. “Are you okay?” She spotted the phone. “That’s my phone!” She bent down and scooped it up. “What happened?” She looked up from the device, a question clear in her gaze.
He couldn’t answer. Didn’t say a word. Couldn’t. He had to get outside. This minute, or he might yell. Or worse. Make a bigger mess of things. The rage felt like a tangible thing, a churning ball of sparks and darkness in his abdomen, making him feel shivery and sick.
As Will brushed past her, Darcy looked up from her phone, her eyes narrowed and her expression dark. “Stan called, I see. Is that why you—”
He kept going, on out the back door. Fortunately, Darcy didn’t follow.
~*~
Darcy sat on the front stoop to call Stan. Not exactly private, but nowhere was truly private in her supposed new home, not even the freaking bathroom. Will could come back any minute, and she wasn’t ready to face him. Her fingers were shaking as she poked the phone’s smooth touchscreen, cycling through menus. Not good. She had to be professional, a sharp businesswoman, a vice president. Instead, she felt like a little girl who wanted to cry over a stupid boy.
Get a grip. It was Will Dougherty, not exactly angel material. Hardly a walk-on-water guy. How dare he look at her so accusingly?
What had Stan said that had gotten him so riled up?
The phone rang once, then a male voice answered. “Stan’s line.”
“Mathias? What are you doing in Stan’s office? Is he around?”
“Hi, Darcy. He’s out to lunch.” Mathias chuckled. “And for once, I don’t mean that metaphorically. So I hear you’re staying home again today. This a long-term thing?”
Darcy glanced back over her shoulder at the condo living room. Will was still absent. Probably down by the water, handsomely brooding. “I’m not sure how long. But I’m digging through all the start-up plans for Jefferson StarSoap and the California Dreamin’ shampoo from home.”
“I’m sure you are.” Mathias sounded almost annoyed. Why? She was just doing her job. The smile returned to his voice with his next sentence. “Stay at home as long as you like, far as I’m concerned. Pave the way for telecommuting. I could use it.”
Oh, right. Didn’t he have a kid who had cerebral palsy or cystic fibrosis or something?
“How’s your son doing these days?”
Now he sounded surprised. “Good, thanks for asking. He got fitted with a leg brace that’s helping a lot, and his new PT is—” He stopped, and when he spoke again, his tone was wary. “Why do you want to know? It’s not taking any time away from my work, I assure you. Never has, never will.”
Darcy bit her lip. “I didn’t think it was, Matt.”
“Then why bring it up?”
Was it that unusual for her to ask her coworkers about their personal lives? “I was…it’s been…I haven’t been back to the office in a while, just wanted to catch up.”
“Mmm.” He sounded noncommittal. “I hear you’re living with Will Dougherty. In a manner of speaking.”
“Thora tell you?”
“She might have mentioned. Be careful with that, okay? The guy is a pain.”
Darcy frowned at the phone. “Tell me about it.”
“He’ll shaft you when you’re not looking.”
She’d thought so too, but… “You mean the embezzlement?”
“Embezzlement? I meant—. Never mind. Just don’t let yourself get in too deep, that’s
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