Thirty-Three

Brandon Kennedy stalked across the office floor, his hands bunched into fists at his side. He kicked his chair from under the desk and it toppled and landed on the floor. Yanking off his overcoat, he cursed. He tossed it toward the coat rack, missed the mark, and it slid to the ground. Kennedy exploded with another set of curses as he marched over, picked it up and latched it on a hook.

William leaned back in his chair, holding back the grin that threatened to sneak across his mouth. He was dying to know what had his partner in a dither. When the grin threatened to make its debut, William quickly rubbed his hand over his mouth, trying to wipe off his smirk. Now was not the time to gloat. “What ails you, Kennedy?”

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