"Of course not. I wouldn't even be able to make sense of all that corporate stuff that you do, anyway."
That makes her grin as she flounces back to her apartment, closing the door.
Now I have to make a huge decision. Could I really risk Kayla's job by passing on this information?
I feel guilty just thinking about it.
But yes. Yes, I could.
More importantly, I want to help Ansel. He seemed so impressed that Bridget got and shared some information about their predicament. He would never expect something like that from me.
Nobody ever expects much from quiet little me.
Well, I'm sick of being quiet. Sick of being a bit too sensitive. Sick of being a bit too fragile.
For the first time, I want to kick some ass.
Quietly. My way.
Slipping on my shoes, I grab my purse and a sweater and head out the door. I'm at the bottom of the stairs before I hear Kayla call out her doorway, "Where are you going so late?"
I don't answer, and practically run to my car. It would make sense for the four brothers to gather at their mother's house, right?
When I first got my car, I went all around Oakton, checking out every neighborhood just for the fun of driving. There was one house that I always assumed belonged to the Oakleys – a large, elegant home at the end of a small street. Time to see if I was right.
I was. Driving up to it, there are two pickup trucks parked in the driveway, and two more out on the street. One of them is Ansel's. I park behind it, then take a moment to center myself.
I cannot be with a man if he thinks that dealing with his family is going to be too much for me to handle. He won't trust that I'm actually with him for the long haul if he thinks I'll run away like a frightened little girl at the first sign of stress.
As I get out of my car, my guts feel like they're on fire again, but it's not squirrels that are running away. What's bigger and clumsier than a squirrel? A weasel, maybe? A herd of weasels? Weasels wearing combat boots?
Whatever it is, it feels like I'm being bruised from the inside.
That doesn't matter. All that matters is getting the job done. Sure, I want Ansel to be proud of me. But more importantly, I want to be proud of myself.
If I really were Queen of the World like I always joked, I'd stop being so freakin' timid.
As I walk up to the porch, I start feeling steadier, more confident. I know I'm doing the right thing, which grounds me.
Several loud, boisterous voices can be heard from inside before I knock on the door. I instantly recognize the huge man who answers as Corbin.
"Hi, is Ansel here?"
"Yeah, come on in."
He leads me into the living room, where all four brothers are sprawled around with two laptops, and a couple of notepads. Before Ansel can jump to his feet from his spot on the couch, an elegant woman enters the room. Her brown hair is lighter thanAnsel's, closer to Dash's, with a few slivers of white around her temples.
She hands a bottle of beer each to Corbin and Braden, then joins Ansel as he comes to my side. "Mom, I'd like you to meet my girlfriend Lynn."
The smile that overtakes her beautiful face fills me with warmth, an instant antidote to those boot-stomping weasels. "Lynn, how lovely to meet you. I'm Carol," she says, shaking my hand. She shoots Ansel a sideways glance. "Nobody warned me that we were having company. I would have laid out fancier snacks. "
She elbows Ansel lightly in the ribs to show that she's just teasing. "Are you joining us for the planning session, Lynn?"
"They're all sworn to secrecy," Ansel assures me. "Nobody's going to share where we may have accidentally come across certain confidential information."
"I guess you're all talking about the surveyors who are adjusting the property lines, and the sudden zoning update meeting that's being held much earlier this year than usual?" I ask, forcing my voice to project a bit more as Ansel slips an arm around me, sitting me down next to him.
"Yes," Dash says, with a dramatic eye roll. "But it's hard to decide what to do when we don't have any of the details."
