‘‘March first.’’ Phillip pursed his lips, then he shook his head. ‘‘That might be a problem. Quality comes first here. It takes time to build a champion. I’ll look over our schedule,’’ he added, dropping an arm over Jonathan’s shoulder as they walked. ‘‘We’ll see what we can work out—but the contract’s already in place, and the work sheets tell me May is the soonest we can deliver the topquality product you expect and deserve.’’

‘‘That’s not going to give me much time to get the feel of her,’’ Jonathan complained.

‘‘Believe me, Jonathan, a boat by Quinn is going to feel fine. Just fine,’’ he added, glancing back at his brothers with a quick and wolfish grin before he nudged Jonathan inside the office.

‘‘He’ll buy us till May,’’ Cam decided, and Ethan nodded.

‘‘Or he’ll make it April and skin the poor bastard for a bonus.’’

‘‘Either way.’’ Cam clamped a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. ‘‘We’re going to have ourselves another contract by end of day.’’

Below, Seth snorted. ‘‘Shit, he’ll wrap it up by lunchtime. The guy’s toast.’’

Cam tucked his tongue in his cheek. ‘‘Two o’clock, soonest.’’

‘‘Noon,’’ Seth said, peering up at him.

‘‘Two bucks?’’

‘‘Sure. I can use the money.’’

‘‘ YOU KNOW,’’ CAM SAID as he dug out his wallet, ‘‘before you came along to ruin my life, I’d just won a bundle in Monte Carlo.’’

Seth sneered cheerfully. ‘‘This ain’t Monte Carlo.’’

‘‘You’re telling me.’’ He passed the bills over, then winced when he saw his wife come into the building. ‘‘Cool it. Social worker heading in. She’s not going to approve of minors gambling.’’

‘‘Hey, I won,’’ Seth pointed out, but he stuffed the bills in his pocket. ‘‘You bring any food?’’ he asked Anna.

‘‘Oh, no, I didn’t. Sorry.’’ Distracted, she dragged a hand through her hair. There was a sick ball in the pit of her stomach that she did her best to ignore. She smiled, a curve of lips that didn’t quite manage to reach her eyes. ‘‘Didn’t you all pack lunch?’’

‘‘Yeah, but you usually bring something better.’’

‘‘This time I’ve been pretty tied up putting food together for the picnic tomorrow.’’ She ran a hand over his head, then left it lying on his shoulder. She needed the contact. ‘‘I just . . . thought I’d take a break and see how things were going around here.’’

‘‘Phil just nailed this rich guy for a ton of money.’’

‘‘Good, that’s good,’’ she said absently. ‘‘Then we should celebrate. Why don’t I spring for ice cream? You think you can handle picking up some hot fudge sundaes at Crawford’s?’’

‘‘Yeah.’’ His face split into a grin. ‘‘I can handle it.’’

She dragged money out of her purse, hoping he didn’t notice that her hands weren’t quite steady. ‘‘No nuts on mine, remember?’’