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team player, but you screwed it up.” A blood-red nail traced the outline of his rigid jaw. He flinched. “You dropped the ball. Didn’t you, Coach ?”
    Fury swept through Hank like flood waters rushing over a low-lying bridge. He shook his head slowly from side to side and pinned her with a threatening glare. “I’m willing to take a lot of crap from you, but I won’t let you do this.”
    As big as he was...as close as he was...as angry as he was, the woman was too stupid to be intimidated. A venomous smile slid across the face he had grown to despise.
    “And just how would you propose to stop me?”
    Hank ran a shaky hand through his hair and tried to calm his runaway emotions. If he opened his mouth to respond to that they both would likely regret it.
    “I suppose I could be persuaded to reconsider.” She eased closer.
    “Stay away from me.” He backed away, holding his hands up stop-sign fashion. “Just stay away.” He had to get out of here.
    He stalked out of the room and down the hall, praying she was too smart to follow.
    Bursting through the double exit doors into the bright sunlight, he drew in a big, deep breath. The morning sun felt good on the taut muscles of his face. He braced himself against the shudder that threatened and fought to steady his breathing. She almost pushed him too far this time.
    If Cynthia Masters were a man, she would be picking herself up off the floor right now. But she wasn’t a man, she was a woman—his boss. And he would just have to deal with it. If he could only hold out until this term was over, she would be gone. She would have her fancy job at state, and Hank would have peace. But, at this rate, he would probably be out of his mind by Christmas.
    The important thing right now was protecting Stevens. One way or another Hank had to make sure Masters found no grounds to force him to drop the kid from the team.
    ~*~
    Sun filtered through the kitchen window and spilled across the table. Enthralled by the play of light, Donna savored her morning coffee. The quiet was soothing. Gave her a few minutes to plan out her day. Melissa hadn’t come downstairs yet. Maybe she would entertain herself until Patty arrived. Patty planned to take Melissa along with her girls shopping for the day. Not having a five-year-old underfoot would certainly make getting some of this painting done a lot easier.
    Scanning the faded pink walls and dingy white cabinets, the kitchen was clearly the place to start. Lucky for her budget, a lot of scrubbing and painting would whip this old house into an acceptable condition in no time at all. Patty and Sam had already refurbished the exterior as a housewarming gift. They’d offered to do more but they’d already done too much.
    Donna sighed as she surveyed her check register and dwindling bank balance. Most everything she had raked and scraped over the past few years had gone into buying and updating the clinic. Despite her sister’s objections, she insisted on paying rent on this house until she could afford a down payment for an official mortgage.
    For now she and Melissa were okay. She prayed the clinic would be a success.
    “An overnight success would be nice,” she declared to the big, empty kitchen as she pushed away from the table. But she knew better than to hope for that kind of return on her investment.
    Donna tossed her reconciled bank statement into a drawer and deposited her empty cup into the chipped porcelain sink. It would take time to build a patient list, and time was her enemy. Staying afloat until business grew steady would require some very skilled financial maneuvering and more luck than she had ever been known to possess in the past.
    Case in point, the Denver debacle. She’d barely come out of that federal investigation with her license intact. Her idiot partner had committed insurance fraud over and over for the past two years. When that hadn’t been enough to sustain his preferred lifestyle, he’d started