The Henson Brothers: Two Complete Novels (41 page)

The Henson Brothers

Gaining Interest

The Henson Brothers

Book 2

by

Dara Girard

To Mum and Dad,

whose spending habits inspired the idea for this book.

Chapter 1

Eric Henson listened to the loud crack of a tree snapping, its limb an unfortunate victim of the harsh October weather settling over the city and slapping a crisp wind against his office window. The tree's destruction echoed in his ears. He had to remind himself that the sound wasn't his patience snapping in two.

He stared at Adriana Travers across the broad mahogany desk. She didn't meet the disbelief reflecting in his serious, speculative gaze. She was too busy buffing her nails, casually tapping her foot. He wasn't angry, he reminded himself, letting his gaze fall to his desk. He didn't let himself get angry. She had obviously misunderstood his suggestions.

It was perfectly understandable that she be confused about his recommendations regarding her finances. She didn't seem the type to take much interest in financial matters. The dreadful state of her books was a good indicator of that. He wanted to help her, but doubted he had the fortitude to do so. Most times he hoped he would glance up and she would disappear like a bad dream. However, she was real and in his office looking as out of place as two commas
in a tax return.

She had the color and vibrancy of a hummingbird and was completely incongruous with the serene gray of his office. Her curly black hair fell around her face in a crazy array that seemed to suit her carefree personality. A long purple skirt draped her legs while thick-heeled black boots peeked from underneath. A shimmering jacket completed the look, but her silver earrings caught most of his attention. They constantly twirled and he couldn't understand what law of physics allowed their continuous motion.

He pulled his gaze from them and focused on the problem at hand. He was a professional and needed to handle the situation in a calm and tactful manner. He would not insult her intelligence and put her on the defensive. He was used to her type. He'd met a few in his line of work and knew they required a patience his other clients didn't need. He sat forward and clasped his hands together, ready to address and dismiss any of her concerns.

"Did you hear what I said?" she asked, clearly annoyed by his silence.

"Yes. What do you mean by 'no'?" His voice was soft, laden with a hint of steel. Usually his tone gave a person pause. She, however, presented him with a brief, disinterested caramel glare and continued to buff her nails.

"It means that I disagree with you," she clarified. "It means that I think your suggestions are poorly thought out and most of all illogical."

Eric adjusted his glasses, a small bit of temper beginning to claw around him. He prided himself on being logical. He was always logical. What did she mean he... He loosened the grip on his pen and took a deep breath. She did this on purpose to provoke him. In the three years he had known her they had never been able to speak without annoying each other. He had thankfully seen her only a few times since her best friend had married his brother. They were usually spared the aggravation of being in each other's company. Until now.

When he had heard she needed financial counseling, he had wanted to help. So for once in all his practical years he had—in a moment of temporary insanity—done something he never did. He'd been impulsive. He had called her up and offered his services. To his surprise she had accepted. He glanced at her now as she wiggled her fingers in front of her. He was too tired to kick himself for that brief lapse in judgment.

"What did you find..." He searched for words. "Unacceptable about my suggestions?"

She leaned forward, took the budget from the desk, and tapped each item. "No, I will not eat regular nameless foods, cut down my visits to the salon, stop my cable, or put my cat to sleep."

He blinked. "I never suggested that."

"You probably would if you knew how much I spend on cat food and kitty litter."

Eric sat back and folded his arms.
Patience,
he reminded himself. "I think your cat is a necessity, an essential part of your life. You probably consider it a family member as many pet owners do." He paused, thoughtful. "Ultimately, the cat likely serves some purpose. I've read that it's healthy to have a pet. Usually they refer to dogs because they force you out on daily walks, but I'm sure cats offer some sort of healthy regime." He shook his head. "No, I would never suggest you get rid of your cat."

Adriana crossed her legs and tapped the buffer against her knee. "How generous of you," she said in a dry tone. "I was completely unaware of my cat's many benefits until I met you. She's not just a beautiful, friendly, and furry companion, but she's also a good health investment."

The brown eyes flickered. "There's no reason to be sarcastic."

Adriana hid a tiny grin. She was beginning to get to him. She didn't know why the thought cheered her, but it did. It was
nice to know the unflappable Eric Henson had a temper. Perhaps he had a heart as well.

He was eerily too much like his office. Cool, elegant, and intimidating. There were no pictures on the wall, not even a plant to give color to the gray decor. Just a pathetic vase of plastic lilies that sat high on a bookshelf, turning gray from the gathering dust. She measured him in one quick glance, wondering how often he needed dusting. The dark blue of his tie and shirt complemented the brown of his skin. It was an unremarkable light shade with all the dimension and warmth of a piece of cardboard.

She would not call him handsome. His face was too serious for such a clichéd label. His features were firm, undeniably male in structure with eyes as warm as petrified wood, offset by round, gold-framed glasses. He didn't have a mouth that entertained a smile or laughed very often and his hair was pitch-black and cut almost cruelly short.

She didn't know why she was here. She inwardly groaned. That was wrong. She did know. She had been impulsive. It was a terrible fault of hers and usually landed her in trouble. She remembered when Eric had called her one late afternoon while she was flipping through a
Victoria's Secret
catalogue. After overcoming the shock of hearing his voice on the other end, she heard herself saying yes to his seemingly reasonable offer, forgetting whom she was saying yes to.

The beginning of the meeting had been cordial until he started taking charge of her spending habits like an overzealous hospital nurse. He had angered her by treating her as if she had no common sense. She knew his type—a pulse-free intellectual who thought he had the sole monopoly on brain function. Yes, she liked to tease him. She wanted to show him that he was human and emotional like the rest of the ordinary world.

"Do you have a pet?" she asked.

"No."

"Not even a cold, dull goldfish swimming dizzyingly around in a bowl on your windowsill?"

"No."

"Remind me to get you one. A tiny one so that it won't be too much of a bother to you."

He glanced out the window. "As I was saying, your cat Elena—"

"Elissa."

"Right. Elissa is part of regular household expenses. However, the other items I listed are easily dispensable. For example, you could do without going to the salon."

"No, I could not."

He met her gaze. "Then go to a cheaper one."

"Would an owner of a Mercedes send his car to a Saab dealership for repairs?"

"We are not talking about cars."

"No, we're talking about me. My skin, my body."

Ah, hell, now why did she have to mention that? Eric tried to keep his eyes from the satin beauty of her dark coffee skin. He knew she thought of him as an automon, but he was a
male
automaton.

"My visits to the salon are part of my monthly maintenance," she continued.

He waved the receipts. "Only a person with severe physical deformities needs to spend this much money on maintenance." And she had absolutely no physical deformities from where he was sitting. She was not a beautiful woman but her caramel eyes were captivating and she had a full mouth that on more than one occasion occupied his mind with purely male distractions. He put the receipts down, gathering his thoughts, when he found himself staring at her lips.