Family in Progress. Brenda HarlenЧитать онлайн книгу.
There had to be one hundred and one reasons why it would be a bad idea to get involved with Steven Warren.
Still, there was something about the man that tempted Samara to ignore all reason.
“Thanks again for tonight,” she said. “I had a good time.”
“Me, too.” He hesitated, cleared his throat. “Good night.”
She felt a pang of disappointment as she watched him cross the threshold.
“Steven, wait.”
He turned back.
“You, uh –” she felt her heart pounding, her mind racing “ – forgot something.”
He looked at the jacket he carried in one hand and his keys in the other, then back at her. “What did I forget?”
“This,” she said, and tugged his head down to hers for a kiss.
Brenda Harlen grew up in a small town surrounded by books and imaginary friends. Although she always dreamed of being a writer, she chose to follow a more traditional career path first. After two years of practising as an attorney (including an appearance in front of the Supreme Court of Canada), she gave up her “real” job to be a mum and to try her hand at writing books. Three years, five manuscripts and another baby later, she sold her first book – an RWA Golden Heart winner.
Brenda lives in Southern Ontario with her real-life husband/hero, two heroes-in-training and two neurotic dogs. She is still surrounded by books (“too many books,” according to her children) and imaginary friends, but she also enjoys communicating with “real” people. Readers can contact Brenda by e-mail at [email protected].
Family in Progress
Brenda Harlen
This book is dedicated to my nieces.
To Brianna – a beautiful, intelligent young woman who is going to be a top-notch CA.
I hope you know how very proud I am of you.
To Lauren – her equally beautiful and intelligent
sister who isn’t afraid of any challenge. I know you will succeed in whatever you choose to do.
And to Kaylin –
my baby brother’s beautiful new baby.
Welcome to the world.
Chapter One
Life was much simpler for Steven Warren when he worked at Al’s Body Shop, when someone else was in charge and he simply did what he was told to do. But a man couldn’t work twelve-and fourteen-hour days when he had children at home who needed him, which was why the offer to work at Classic magazine in Chicago had been as welcome as it was unexpected.
Steven had long had a passion for classic cars, and the opportunity to work for the magazine, finding vehicles in need of restoration and leading the team through that process, was one he couldn’t pass up.
And if Steven sometimes felt out of his element now that he spent more time in an office than in a garage, he figured the opportunity to make a desperately needed new start with his family was more than adequate compensation.
But now he felt trapped between the proverbial rock and hard place. He’d been entrusted with the responsibility of hiring a new features photographer for the magazine and he was determined to find the perfect person for the job. Except that—on the basis of the applications he’d received in response to his ad—the perfect person had yet to apply and he was running out of time.
And then, just last week, his sister-in-law sent him an e-mail that offered a solution to his dilemma. Or so he hoped.
He found a bottle of Tylenol in his desk and shook a couple of pills out of the bottle to ward off the headache that had been lurking behind his eyes since breakfast.
The morning had not got off to a great start. His twelve-year-old daughter had been in a mood—again. It seemed Caitlin had given him nothing but attitude since they’d moved to Chicago at the end of the summer.
He wondered if she would ever understand that he’d done it for her and not to spite her. Since her mother’s death almost three years earlier, Caitlin had fallen in with a questionable crowd and Steven hadn’t known how to tear his daughter away from their negative influence. So he’d uprooted his fractured family and moved them to Illinois.
He swallowed the pills with a mouthful of lukewarm coffee and scanned his sister-in-law’s e-mail once again.
Hi Steven,
Richard told me that you’re looking for a new photographer—someone who can breathe new life into the magazine—and it just so happens that I have a friend who would be perfect for the job. Her name is Samara Kenzo. We went to college together then were coworkers and roommates in Tokyo before I married your brother.
Anyway, Samara has recently moved to Chicago and is looking for work. I’m not asking you to hire her, of course, just to meet with her. (Though I’m sure you’ll agree that she’s exactly what you need once you’ve had a chance to interview her and look at her portfolio!) I suggested that she drop off a résumé at your office so that you can contact her directly if you think she might be a suitable candidate. Thanks, Jenny
PS. Don’t forget about the dinner party we’re having on the fourth. It’s been far too long since we’ve seen you and I won’t accept any excuses this time:)
Steven winced as he read the last line, He’d been making a lot of excuses to avoid spending time with his brother and sister-in-law over the past few months. Richard was the only brother he had and he’d liked Jenny from their first meeting, but seeing them together was just too painful a reminder of everything he’d lost.
The buzz of the phone interrupted his melancholic thoughts. He closed his e-mail as he picked up the receiver. “Yes?”
“There’s a Samara Kenzo here to see you,” his assistant told him.
“Thanks, Carrie.” He was both excited and wary about meeting his sister-in-law’s friend. Excited because the résumé she’d dropped off was more than impressive, and wary because he knew that if the interview went well, he’d have to attend that dinner party—if for no other reason than to thank Jenny for the referral.
Samara Kenzo was uneasy even before she stepped into Steven Warren’s office. Though she appreciated Jenny’s confidence in her abilities and was aware of her own talent, she wasn’t convinced her friend’s brother-in-law would be impressed with her credentials. She’d taken a lot of pictures in the past six years and even won several awards for her work, but she had her doubts as to whether she belonged at a car magazine and she worried about how she might convince Jenny’s brother-in-law of something she wasn’t even sure of herself.
As she glanced around the space, she was even less sure, but she strode confidently across the room to shake his outstretched hand.
Steven hadn’t come to Tokyo for his brother’s wedding so she’d never had occasion to meet him before now, but he looked enough like Richard that she had no doubt of his identity.
Tall, dark and absolutely yummy.
She shoved that thought aside impatiently. She wanted this job. She did not want to feel the first stirrings of a physical attraction after more than two years of not feeling anything at all.
“Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Mr. Warren.”
“It’s my pleasure,”