Page 1 of Something Borrowed

ChapterOne

She was going to kill him.

Brigid Anderson stood next to the bar, scanning for her date in the room full of lawyers and their partners. She shifted, her feet killing her in her new heels, bought especially for the occasion since her typical sensible heels wouldn’t give quite the right impression on the partners. She’d even splurged on a new suit and tamed her naturally curly red hair into a severe bun, which was already giving her a headache. Maybe the stress of the event was the cause of the pounding in her head. Her blood pressure could be going up because of her date running late. Or it could be all of the above.

As expected, Grady Coughlin had let her down. Like so many people before him, and on so many levels. She never should have come without him. Who knew when he’d get here, what he’d be wearing, or how others would perceive him? Grady was not her standard plus one for these events, but her usual date, an assistant district attorney, was busy on a case. Since the evening was celebrating Grady’s brother’s promotion to partner, it was natural to invite Grady. Besides, he would have been there anyway, and she would have had to explain to him why they weren’t together, leading to an uncomfortable discussion that she was not prepared to have at this time. Or any time.

Deep, emotional conversations were not her thing. Law, legal precedent, and facts were more Brigid’s wheelhouse. Social chitchat, emotional baring of the soul, and girl bonding generally made her break out in hives, though she often made an exception for her college roommates. The next week was going to be a nightmare for her with Caroline and Matthew’s wedding, not to mention this little soiree tonight. She loved her friends, enjoyed spending time with them, but the bonding that came with spending a week together often stressed her introverted soul terribly. Mentally, she shook her head. Get one thing out of the way, then deal with the rest. Survive tonight with the sharks, then onto the emotional quagmire of the wedding week.

She shuddered at the reminder of the wedding, despite vowing not to think about it. All of her college friends, together again after five years apart. A reunion disguised as a pre-wedding party, according to Caroline. Brigid couldn’t avoid it, even with the big Cournoyer deal this week. She owed Caroline and Matthew too much. Caroline had bullied her out of her books and the library, pulling her into a friendship with Anna Costado and Delaney Winters freshman year. Instead, Brigid had found something infinitely rarer—friendship.

The relationship with the three women had kept her going through those college years, when she had been expected to focus completely on her education, nothing extracurricular. She had never had friends like them before and when they all separated, it had been devastating, like a raw, gaping wound. Caroline had been just as destroyed, and she had needed Brigid. When Delaney Winters’ father had been arrested for the Ponzi scheme then died shortly after, Delaney had cut herself off from her friends, an amputation that hurt Caroline, as Delaney and Caroline had been childhood friends. Anna headed off for Hollywood and the bright lights, leaving Brigid to pick up the pieces. Now, she was seeing them all again and wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about the whole situation.

“Miss? Can I get you something?” The bartender spoke behind her.

Without glancing away from the doors, she said, “Scotch on the rocks. Single malt.”

Would anyone notice if she slipped away and went back to her office? Crowds of people made her skin itch. She didn’t have the smooth conversational skills of her younger sister, interior designer superstar, Andrea, who had worked with half the women in this room at one time or another. Andrea knew exactly what to say at exactly the right time to exactly the right person, while Brigid was the one hiding in the corner or spilling something on herself. Even her older brother, the brilliant neurosurgeon who was smarter than everyone around him, could socialize better than Brigid.

If only Grady had been on time.

“Ms. Anderson. Thrilled you could join us.” Bill Peterman, her boss and partner at the firm, spoke next to her, jarring her train of thought. He gestured imperiously to the bartender. “Scotch, on the rocks.”

She stiffened, almost as if he were a drill sergeant and she was a raw recruit. Despite working for him for over two years, she had not lost her fear of the tough man who held her future in the palm of his hand. “Yes, sir. I finished the last of the contract reviews and put them on your desk before I came here.”

Leave it to Peterman to assign her the bulk of work as punishment for a vacation while in the middle of a deal. It didn’t matter that she was a bridesmaid for the daughter of one of the executive partners. No, instead, he was punishing her for her close ties with the Masters’ family and their only daughter, Caroline. As if she was getting special treatment. Hell, even Matthew, Caroline’s fiancé, never got special consideration, although some people thought the timing of his promotion to partner just before the wedding was evidence of his connection to the family. Which was bullshit. Matthew worked just as hard, if not harder than anyone else, wanting to prove his worth to Caroline’s father, even though no one ever asked for that.

“Miss?” The bartender slid the glass of scotch across the bar top to her and another to the partner.

Peterman raised his glass and clinked hers. “To a successful deal for Cournoyer Hotels.”

She smiled and sipped, feeling the tension in her shoulders rise. The scotch burned a trail down her throat, igniting a different sort of fire in her stomach. Brigid refrained from pressing her fist to her chest, not willing to let anyone see any hint of weakness. Chivas. Nothing but the best for the firm’s celebration of new partners. She worked hard, acquiring a taste for the liquor, wanting to fit in the firm. She needed them to see her as partner material—not the scholarship kid from the state university. Sure, it was true. The University of Texas at Austin was good, but she didn’t have a diploma from Vanderbilt, Georgetown, Stanford, Harvard. Nor did she have the prestigious family name to back her up. She was on the outside looking in. Unlike her siblings, she didn’t have the blazing social skills or brilliant mind to dazzle the firm’s partners.

“Mr. Peterman, I’d like to talk about one of the contract reviews. I noticed one clause looked a little off to me,” she said, sucking in a breath to launch into a deeper explanation.

Peterman shook his head once slightly, considering her with a half-cocked head.

“I was surprised by your review of the lease agreements. You discovered several key issues that could have delayed the deal if we hadn’t caught them. We can take it from here now while you’re on vacation. Impressive, despite your obvious limitations. Though it will put you in an excellent position for a promotion.” He then gave her a condescending smile. “But we’re not here to talk work. Tonight is a celebration.”

She continued to smile, her face brittle and her back molars grinding. Damn that pompous ass, only caring if someone went to an Ivy League law school or came from a prominent family, not the daughter of a mid-level insurance manager from Dallas. Even her connection to the Masters family was not enough for Peterman. He wanted his own promotion to executive partner, and he wanted the connections to get him there. He believed he needed the staff who had the right contacts and background to support him in his journey. And he was snobby enough to believe only people from a certain level of society would be worthy of his time. Brigid didn’t fit that mold. Nice to know she was performing well, though, although it had to almost kill him to admit it to her. How many scotches had he had to compliment her like that?

Where the hell was Grady?

“Mr. Peterman. Brigid. Nice to see you.” Terrence Darby, her colleague under Peterman and her biggest competition, stood a couple of feet away, utterly confident in himself and his pedigree. He barely spared Brigid a downward look but focused his entire attention on Peterman, probably pissed that Brigid had gotten there first.

“Terrance.” Peterman clapped him on the back, a broad grin on his face. “Nice job on the construction loan papers and completing the details yesterday. Thanks for stepping up and taking point on the finalizing of the lease agreements while Brigid is away next week.”

Terrence shot her a triumphant look, and Brigid ground her teeth, taking another sip of the scotch to hide her grimace.

“My pleasure, sir. I rarely take vacations. Work is my life right now, except for my lovely girl, Sarah.” He smirked.

So, what had been the island vacation in the spring? Definitely not a work event. And Brigid hadn’t taken a vacation since undergrad, spending all of her vacation time interning for law firms.

Reining in her anger, she bared her teeth. “I see you have a nice tan. Leftover from St. Bart’s, Terrence, or something more recent?”

“Tennis at the club every weekend. I believe exercise is good for the body and mind. Keeps you sharp and focused at the office.”

Brigid gritted her teeth and tried not to snarl a response—not that she had one ready. No, her mother had ingrained manners and not office politics in Brigid. She always told Brigid, “If you can’t be witty, then say nothing.” And, Lord knew, Brigid was not the witty one in the family.

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