Sleeping with the Boss (Anderson Brothers, #1)(12)

“Wow. Suzanne Elliot.” Chance stood and gave him a friendly punch in the shoulder. “Good luck, man.”

For some reason, the inference bothered Will. “We’re just going for drinks. Nothing else.” Shit. He hoped Suzanne didn’t have the idea there would be more. Maybe he should call it off after all.

“You’ve been in the desert too long if you’re really expecting me to buy that.”

“Don’t you have some legalese to interpret somewhere so Polly can give her boy toy a yacht?”

Chance grinned. “Indeed I do.”

…

“Holy shit, girl, what did you do?” Heather broke her breadstick in half and wagged it at Claire. “I got phone calls from Bev the Beast and some dude named Jim asking all kinds of things about you. Did you do Michael Anderson or something?”

“No!” Claire covered her mouth and coughed out the bit of wine she’d just inhaled. “God, no.”

Heather shoved part of the breadstick in her mouth, eyes narrowing. “The little brother, then. The quiet one with the long hair. Shit, I’d do that one, no questions asked.” She dragged the other half of her breadstick in marinara sauce and took a bite. “I bet he’s got a wild streak a mile wide. The quiet ones always do.”

Claire raised her wineglass and took a sip, trying to cover up her panic. It unnerved her that people were calling Heather’s temp agency about her. And who was this Jim guy anyway? No doubt the calls had been triggered by Will Anderson’s puzzling interest in her. Claire didn’t like it. Not one bit.

“I did not…do either of them, Heather. I have no idea why this is happening.”

“Liar.” Heather cocked her head, then pointed at the bowl of marinara. “You are the color of this sauce right now. Spill, girl. I’ve known you too long to be fooled.”

Mercifully, the waiter arrived with their food and rescued her from having to answer. Maybe Heather would be so distracted by her huge bowl of lobster ravioli she’d drop it. The middle-aged man, wearing a white apron past his knees, placed the food in front of them, making a big deal about not touching the hot plates.

“So, who is it?” Heather asked before the waiter was even out of earshot.

Yeah, well, so much for dropping it. Claire took a bite of her minestrone.

“Ignoring me won’t work.” She stabbed ravioli with her fork. “I have my sources in that office, and I’m going to find out sooner or later. Might as well get it over with.”

Even more embarrassing than admitting her attraction to William Anderson would be Heather snooping around and bringing someone else’s attention to it.

“You’re right. You’re probably getting called because I’ve…I’ve had some dealings with one of the brothers.”

“Dealings?” Heather popped the ravioli into her mouth whole, face glowing like she’d won the lottery.

“Nothing serious. It was minor.”

Heather eyed her empty glass, then reached over and chugged some of Claire’s wine. “Nothing with an Anderson is minor. Scoring an Anderson is like spotting a Sasquatch. They are elusive, mysterious, and larger than life—if you know what I mean.” She winked and shoved another ravioli in her mouth. “And I have that last bit on the best authority.”

Good God. Claire was not going there. She’d said all she was going to say.

When her mouth was empty again, Heather leaned closer. “I knew you were bluffing at lunch yesterday. It’s the oldest one, right? I’ve heard he’s fantastic in bed. I have a couple of friends who say Michael Anderson was the best night of their lives.” She leaned even closer. “What did he do? They won’t give me any real specifics. Just vague five-star reviews and dreamy smiles.”

Claire pointed at her face and scowled. “Does this look like a dreamy smile?”

“No.” Heather gasped, then grinned. “Get out! You kissed the youngest brother, Chance? Nobody kisses Chance—well, at least Chance doesn’t kiss them back. Did he kiss you back?” She bounced in her chair and clapped her hands.

“You are way off base and I am not talking about this with you.”

“Well, that only leaves…” Her jaw dropped. “Oh, wow. I’d heard the middle one was back. Did William Anderson kiss you? Because if he did, you are one of the few girls in the world lucky enough to experience a close encounter with those lips.”

Not reacting, she took another bite of soup and waited for Heather to fill in the blanks. For once, she hoped her friend’s snooping and gossip would come in useful for more than entertainment. Maybe she could learn something about the man who made her heart hammer and her knees go weak.

“He dated the same woman forever. They had a huge high-society engagement ball even. I heard she called off the wedding before he came back from wherever the military sent him, but I never found out why.”

Claire stirred her soup.

“So, how was it?” Heather asked.

“Fine. We only talked, for heaven’s sake.”

Heather’s eyebrows shot up, and her lips pulled into that smirk Claire knew so well. “I’m calling bullshit. That guy is walking sex. Hell. If I’d known he was back in play, I’d have taken the position as editor myself. Whatever you did with that man was not ‘fine.’ Now, it might have been fiiiiine.”