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“I always am. You should be used to it by now,” Conner teased, and Sabrina imagined a world in which the three men were boys, with Conner at the helm, directing them on what to do and how to behave. To her, he struck her as the most responsible, level-headed one.
Oliver made a noise under his breath that sounded almost like a scoff.
“Getting sick, Ollie? You should get that checked,” Conner told him.
Oliver cast him a sidelong look from his window seat. Sabrina expected a snappy comeback, but that was it, just a look. She found herself amused. Even if he didn’t speak a word, he still somehow managed to say a lot. In that one look, she could see the brotherly teasing, the cocky rebuttal that ached to be given voice, and the affection he had for his sibling. These three had a bond. A tight one at that. No wonder they came as a package deal.
In a way, she admired them. Being an only child came with moments of profound loneliness, especially when she was a kid. No one to talk to, to hold her secrets. No one to complain about her parents with, someone who could laugh and understand in equal measure. It had always been just her—and the occasional fair-weather friend. At least she had Janet now. The other ladies she called friends were merely acquaintances, women she met up with from time to time when they could all swing it, but their connection was superficial at best. Janet was the only one she truly connected with on a personal level, despite them being polar opposites. She was tried and true, and the only person in her life who never cast judgment on her. She could tell her anything—anything—and know she would be received with only love and acceptance.
The car rolled to a stop along the curb in front of the retro-chic restaurant located in the center of downtown. Not far from the office, it was still a hell of a drive when caught in evening traffic. It’d taken them almost thirty minutes for what should have been no more than ten just to navigate through the congestion. But in their line of work—and the size of the heels on her feet—it wouldn’t do to show up on foot. Status was a symbol highly prized among the top tiers of the business world. She and her colleagues had to project exactly the right image to keep the machine well-oiled.
While Sabrina waited for the driver to open her door, Conner helped himself. William and Oliver followed right behind, leaving her alone in the back seat. Sabrina used that brief moment to collect her bearings and get into business mode. She usually had the entire drive to get her thoughts together and remind herself of all the things that needed to be said and gone over, but this trip had proven quite the distraction.
When her door opened, Sabrina moved to swing her legs out, only to be met with an open hand, palm up, in her face. Rearing back to avoid poking her own eye out, she tried to make sense of the appendage.
“Miss Colloway,” came Conner’s smooth voice, and she realized with a start that he was offering to help her out of the car.
It wasn’t the first time, but Sabrina had grown so used to doing everything herself and declining such offers from her drivers that the whole thing felt almost foreign.
After a brief hesitation in which she considered pushing Conner’s hand aside and asserting herself, once again, as an independent woman, Sabrina slipped her hand into his and allowed the gentlemanly gesture to slide.
She wasn’t a bitch, and she didn’t want to carry herself as one. While she was feminist, she could also appreciate a nice gesture and accept it with womanly grace. In her mind, there had to be a balance. Men had their roles to play, and women theirs. The trick was finding a place in the middle to meet.
As she rose out of the car, Sabrina was met once again with the appreciative stares of William and Oliver, who stood just beyond the vehicle on the sidewalk, the soft yellow lighting of the restaurant’s dining room silhouetting them as it spilled out onto the street.
She hated leaving work so late, but she loved the ambiance nightlife provided. Especially in the city, when all of the lights twinkled and flashed, turning night into day, but without all that heat and glare that came with it.
“You look ravishing,” William commented as she stepped closer and Conner closed the door behind her with instructions to the driver to return in an hour.
“You already said that,” she said, aware of the blush creeping up her throat and into her cheeks. Why did these men affect her this way? She wasn’t unused to the attention, and she certainly had worked with her fair share of attractive men, but these men… There was some kind of magnetic draw that kept pulling her attention, tugging on it as if tethered by some invisible string, luring her into their web. Them the predator, her the prey.
The wolfish smile William wore as he hitched his elbow out for her to take coupled with Oliver’s quiet demeanor and Conner’s tangible strength bringing up the rear only solidified that feeling of being stalked, corralled, and cornered.
She should be scared, but the only feeling Sabrina could seem to muster was invigoration. Somehow, among all other men, they managed to make her feel appreciated, wanted, and somehow even more confident and bold.
Dangerous. That’s what the Hargreaves men were. And she was standing right in their cross hairs.
Chapter Six
Mr. Thomas was a nice man, laid-back and easygoing. He didn’t make a fuss, and he didn’t raise his voice, ever. If a person wasn’t familiar with him, they might think he was a real nice guy, a pushover. But he was far from it. Mr. Thomas was like a shark circling the waters, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. And he always drew blood. The trick was to avoid making waves, avoid showing weakness, and ensure that he was always well-fed. Otherwise, the moment he smelled blood in the water, he’d strike.
It was a good thing Sabrina’s father developed a good rapport with him years ago, and she’d taken up the torch.
“Oh, Harvey, you are incorrigible! I hope you don’t talk to your mother that way,” she said, laughing.
“And you stroke an old man’s ego, Miss Colloway,” he accused, but his milky blue eyes told her he was enjoying their banter. They both knew he was old enough to be a grandfather to everyone in the restaurant.
Smiling demurely, Sabrina lowered her eyes. Picking up her glass of Chardonnay, she cast a brief look at the men to either side of her, soaking up their heated looks of approval. Just as a woman found it sexy to watch an assertive man take control of a situation, she’d found that a man, generally, felt the same about a woman. Confidence was a stronger form of flirtation than any perfume or well-crafted pick-up line.
“Well, the hour is late and my glass has runneth dry,” Harvey stated as he pulled out his wallet to pay the bill.
Oliver stayed his hand. “Please, Mr. Thomas, dinner is on us tonight.”
Harvey’s milky eyes met Oliver’s dark ones, and he nodded his consent. “Very well. Far be it for me to argue a free meal.”
After the waiter took Oliver’s black AmEx back and the receipt was signed, they stood as one. Oliver, once again surprising Sabrina with his forwardness, was the first to extend his hand and shake Harvey’s.
“Thank you for your company tonight. We’ll have to do it again sometime.”
