Page 23 of Forgotten Desires

“I do. Each of them has their own companies and Kimberly works for me while she prepares to take over my father’s other business. She wants to learn as much as she can from me and what not to do.”

Not that I have much to teach her. Kimberly is by far the most qualified and smartest out of all of us. Of course we’ll never admit that.

She smiles. “I’m sure you’re teaching her a lot.”

“Not really. If anything, she’s learning how not to be. I demand perfection at work and it’s what makes me both ruthless and respected. It’s a double-edged sword.”

She purses her lips. “I can see why that works in business, but you can’t be terrible, or your sister wouldn’t stay.”

“Well, Kimberly is terrifying.”

“Most little sisters are,” Brynn says with a laugh. “Lord knows I drive my brothers to the brink of insanity.”

“Why?”

“Well, for one, I’m very intrusive in their lives, but it’s only because I know what they need, when they’re too afraid to do it. One of the many other reasons is Second Chances Animal Sanctuary.”

“You mentioned that at the wedding, but I have no idea what it is.”

She shrugs a little. “I save everything that needs to be saved. I have two horses, three goats—they are very mischievous—sheep, cows, two deer, a peacock, a donkey, and chickens, we have lots of chickens.”

“At least you have eggs,” I say, trying to process the fact that she basically has a damn petting zoo.

“Oh, they don’t lay eggs, they all went through henopause, so they’re no longer producing. They are just, as Asher says, a drain on the economy, but I love them. Each morning I go out, bring them treats, and give them love.”

I’m really trying to picture it, but I can’t, so I’ll have to take her word for it.

Cliff clears his throat as he pulls up to the entrance. “I sent a text to the owner and a table is waiting for you.”

“Thank you, Cliff.”

He goes to exit the car, but I catch his eyes before he can get out and he understands it. I want to be the man who helps Brynn.

I go around the car, button my suit jacket, and open her door. Brynn’s hand rests in mine and I tuck it in the crook of my arm as we walk in.

“You know the owner?”

I smile. “I do. I have a lot of dinner meetings here since it’s close to my house and we get the view of Central Park. I like to impress possible clients.”

Brynn laughs. “I bet you do.”

We’re shown in and taken to the back area where the owner, Antonio, always has tables available in case his top customers decide they need dinner. We order drinks and place food orders, and once the waiter is gone, I lean back and smile.

“What?”

“Just . . . glad you’re here.”

A blush paints her cheeks. “I am too.”

“You’re sure you don’t want any wine?”

Brynn shakes her head. “I have to abstain from alcohol before the transplant.”

Shit. Of course. “And when is that?”

Brynn looks to the side and shrugs. “In the next four to six weeks. My father was due for this about a year and a half ago. I got all the way through the testing, and he relapsed again. He’d been sober for four years and then he just . . . got close to the surgery and couldn’t handle it. We’re nearing one year of sobriety now, and as long as he keeps that up, then we can do it. He needs it.”

“I’m sure this is a lot for you.”

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