BRYCE

This has been the weekend from hell.

The morning after the gala, news broke that a man was killed while driving in an underground street race. I knew my risk-taking brother, Austin, was behind the race, and I went into overdrive, making sure his name stayed out of the press and investigation.

Then, the announcement that Missy was a major shareholder in the company made its way to Washington State, and the acquisition of the Seattle Gazette is hanging by a thread. People aren’t willing to sell pieces of their industry to just any company even if we are one of the most successful media outlets in the country. They want stability. Unfortunately, with Miss California Teen having a twenty-five percent share in the company, we are no longer projecting that.

Now, it’s Monday, and my head is reeling from eighty-six hours of keeping the company from falling apart.

Austin is nowhere to be found, Missy has announced she’s going to be making editorial decisions, and my new assistant—Jessica, Jacqueline, Jenelle—whatever her name … I can’t find her.

“Where the hell did she go?” I shout into the air at no one as I pass her empty desk. It’s the same one that, three days ago, was covered in hockey paraphernalia. Today, it’s stark, except for a laptop and a package of Twizzlers.

Slamming the door behind me, I walk over to my desk and open my desktop. It lights up to a search engine I was using before I went to my meeting.

Tessa. San Francisco.

This is stupid.

Without a last name, it’s like finding a needle in a haystack. For four days, I’ve been trying aimlessly to find the woman from the museum garden. I obtained the guest list to the gala, and Tessa’s name isn’t on it. Makes sense, considering she was there with Christine, who also wasn’t invited.

Christine’s the only person who can tell me where to find Tessa. She’s also the last person I want to speak to or who wants to speak to me. It’s a shame because she was a damn good assistant. She knew what I needed, when I needed it.

When I arrived at work, the four major newspapers would be on my desk, my televisions would be on the cable networks, and an espresso would be steaming hot, just waiting for me to indulge. She knew how I liked my files organized and always kept my schedule tight, and we had an unspoken knowledge of what calls I was willing to take and when.

If I had a meeting out of the office, a fully charged iPhone portable charger was handed to me before I left, and she kept Tide To Go sticks in her desk for when I ruined a shirt during the day—which I tend to do often. She knew to hand me an ibuprofen after a meeting with my father and a scotch when I had to deal with Missy, and there was always a Red Bull waiting for me after our four o’clock deadline meeting.

Christ, I’m an asshole.

She was a great assistant and a beautiful girl, but her affection for me was not returned. Seven months, she worked for me, and all I can think about is the woman who wowed me in twenty minutes.

Tessa.

I lean my weight into my office chair and let the springs bounce out my agitation.

Tessa.

She was witty and smart, beautiful … intriguing. We played a game of Truth or Dare that I can’t seem to erase from my memory. Every laugh, every insight, every riddle into her life is etched into my brain.

Tessa.

The way she looked in that red dress was downright sinful. If I’d had just ten more seconds with her, I would have had a better taste of those sweet lips. I would have trailed my mouth down the length of her neck and relished in the whimpers as I moved down to her breast. They were so full and round; I wanted to touch them more than I wanted to breathe.

Tessa.

We would have gone back to my place where I’d have had that dress on the floor and her in my bed. I wouldn’t have rushed. No. I’d have taken my time, savoring every inch of skin, and shown her what a gentleman I could be when I buried my head into her delicious—

“We need to talk.”

My dirty thoughts of Tessa are tarnished as Missy comes barging into my office.

“I’m busy.”

She continues to saunter in, her blonde hair pulled back in a sleek bun, showing off her diamond earrings that cost as much as the fancy car she has waiting for her out front. She takes a seat in one of the guest chairs on the opposite side of my desk.

“Don’t sit.”

“Don’t be rude to your mother.” She places her elbows on the armrests and crosses her legs.

“You’re younger than me.”

With her toe, she reaches out and grazes my calf under the desk. “Think of the stamina.”

One thing about Missy is, she likes to use her sex appeal to fuck with people. She’s not interested in me any more than she’s interested in my father—her husband—but that won’t stop her from using her body to achieve her goals. In this case, she’s looking to get a rise out of me.

“What do you want, Missy?” I bite.

“I just heard from a little birdie that you’re planning on buying the Seattle Gazette.”

“And they just heard you own a quarter of the company. Trust me when I tell you, they’re more upset by the news than you are.”

She points a finger. “Let me explain to you what the plan is—”

“As this is your second day on the job, let me inform you on what we do here,” I state condescendingly. “We run a print and digital media company. Buying newspapers around the country is how we increase our footprint. It’s what paid for that fat diamond on your finger and the Ds on your chest.”

Her mouth pinches. “You think you’re funny.”

“You’re right,” I concede. “It also paid for your nose, lips, and liposuction.”

With a deep breath, she shakes her head and ignores my comment. “I want to know why you’re spending money when your father and I are preparing to liquidate.”

“You will do no such thing.” My teeth grind.

“Funny. I thought I had more shares than you.”

“Yet still not enough.”

Her beady eyes train steadily on me, and then she glances at her nails as if bored with our conversation. “You and your brothers seem to forget how careless you are.”

My temples are starting to throb. While I love my late mother with every fiber of my being, I’ll never forgive her for the careless mistake she made in her will.

If any of the Sexton boys are convicted of a crime, they forfeit their shares to their father.

It might not seem like a big deal, but when you have a brother with a passion for underground street racing, it makes your blood pressure rise with the idea that one arrest could cost you everything. Especially since Missy’s first order of business was for a cross-platform exposé on underground street racing. She’s only doing it because she knows Austin’s secrets, and she is dying to have him convicted of a crime. Any crime.

Now, on top of everything else on my plate, I am writing a fucking exposé with my assistant in order to keep Missy and her cronies away from the racing circuit and away from Austin.

“Where the fuck is my assistant?” I growl under my breath.

“Getting nervous?” She quirks a sinister brow.

“No.” I ignore her stare and go back to typing on my computer.

“I don’t like the new assistant. She’s too spirited.” She scoots her fingers like she’s brushing away imaginary dirt. “What happened to Christine?”

“She has a new job.”

“No two-week notice?”

“No.”

“Why do I feel like there’s more to the story?”

“You’d love that.”

“Watch it, Bryce, or I’ll have a full exposé on men who take advantage of women in the workplace.” She smirks.

I hit her with a glare. “You wouldn’t.”

“I should give her a call. Chat and see if she needs a recommendation for her new job. Something interesting must have happened because I recall seeing her at the gala.” She rises and straightens the skirt. “Can’t say I enjoyed myself though. Some wench spilled her drink all over my gown.”

I let out a sarcastic laugh. “If I knew who she was, I’d kiss her.”

Missy doesn’t seem amused. “Well, her name was Tessa Clarke, and you’ll have to wait in line. She’s one of your brother’s whores.”

My head jolts up. My heart begins to race. Adjusting my tie, I try to remain composed even though my head is a buzz.

Of all the people to know her name, it’s Missy.

She points a manicured finger at me and narrows her eyes. “You okay there? You look flushed.”

“Out.” I curse. “Get out.”

Not happy with being dismissed, she narrows her eyes as she saunters out of my office, leaving the door open.

I’m quickly on my feet, looking for my assistant. Thankfully, she’s back at her desk. With one arm on the doorframe, I lean forward to bellow orders, but I’ve forgotten her fucking name again. I start to consecutively snap my fingers as the J names roll through my mind.

“Jalynn,” she corrects with an eye roll. Clearly not impressed with my lack of memory today.

“Jalynn.” I say it a few more times to commit it to memory. “I need you to look up a woman named Tessa Clarke in San Francisco. She’s mid-twenties with long brown hair and violet eyes.”

She’s holding up a yellow legal pad and feverishly taking notes. “Is this for a story?”

With a grimace, I lie, “Yes. Find out where she lives.” I pause and think better of it. “No, find out where she works. And get Austin on the phone. Now!”

“Austin?” The way she says his name rubs me the wrong way.

“Yes, my brother. I want him on the phone, and find out what you can on Tessa Clarke.”

As soon as I’m at my desk, I wait for the red light on my phone to light up, showing me she’s getting Austin on the phone.

The line doesn’t appear.

It still doesn’t appear.

Damn it, what did Austin do to this girl, making her so afraid to call him?

I pick up the phone and ring his extension myself.

His assistant, Stefanie, picks up. “Austin Sexton’s office.”

“Put him on, and don’t you dare tell him it’s me on the line. Say it’s his mechanic.”

Yes, my brother is more inclined to pick up the phone for the man who rotates his tires than he is to answer me. If I know one thing about my brother, it’s his love of cars.

“Joey. I need you to check the engine on the Camaro,” Austin answers.

“It’s not Joey, and I have a question for you. Who is Tessa Clarke?”

There’s a pause on the other end, and his answer feels like it takes an eternity to come out.

“You called to ask about a girl?” he asks in a confused yet intrigued manner.

“Missy said she was one of your”—I choose a better adjective—“girls.”

“Where would she get that notion?”

I’m losing my patience. “Did you go to the gala with her or not?”

“When have I ever brought a date to a work function?” he answers incredulously.

He has a point. Austin has never arrived at an event with a date. He’s left with one countless times, but in his years of attending these functions, he’s never brought a girl. Still, that doesn’t quite answer my question.

“Calm down there, killer. I can hear you growling through the phone. I’ve never heard of a Tessa, nor have I ever met a Tessa. She must be smoking hot to get you all worked up, so if you see her, please send her my way.”

“Fuck you.”

“Aw, Bryce has a crush.” Austin is amused, and I hang up before I get to hear any more.

Jalynn knocks on my open office door. “Mr. Sexton, I found three Tessa Clarkes. One is an eighty-year-old retiree, another is a seventeen-year-old lacrosse player, and the third works at Lumiére Salon and Spa.”

There has to be more than three Tessa Clarkes in all of San Francisco, but I don’t feel like berating my assistant on her lack of research knowledge. Hopefully, the one she found is my Tessa. I look at my calendar. It’s packed, yet I’m going to do something out of character.

“Make me an appointment at the spa. Use my name and make sure it’s with her.”

“But—” she interjects.

I dismiss her. “I know; I have meetings. Get me in at four o’clock. I’ll sit out of the deadline meeting and have Austin fill me in when I return.”

“Yes, sir,” Jalynn says as she walks backward out of the room, chewing on her pen.

I open my desk drawer and take out the bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue I keep in there. I just told my assistant to book me an appointment at a spa. I haven’t done anything like this in … ever.

A massage in the middle of the workday? It’s absurd. My skin starts to itch at the thought.

Asking Austin to sit in for me at the deadline meeting is a big deal, but he really can’t fuck that up. If I don’t like what he tells me, I can make changes when I return.

The most important thing is, I get to see Tessa. Now, I just have to think of what to say.