Damn.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

He hated starting a day with James' voice shrieking at him over the recorder, strident and bitchy.

''Jefferson Austin Bonham! You have a 10 o'clock client. You get your butt out of bed and get in this office!''

Ty shook his head, hurrying down Sixth Street, the cars whizzing by. He'd make it with fifteen minutes to spare -- check his email, check his messages, drink a decent cup of coffee and get his notes together.

Not optimal, but not bad.

He turned and headed up the steps of the little, pseudo-renovated Victorian house his company shared with three others -- a painter, a counselor, an animal psychic and an image consultant/advertising designer/book illustrator/please give me more work my rent is due. He nodded at Shelly and the... fuzzy beast she was carrying and took the stairs to the third floor.

''Hey, James. I made it.''

James looked up, bleached blond spikes standing in wild patterns, shocking pink tie screaming and ugly and somehow working. Shit, the man was brilliant. An utter flake, but brilliant. ''You did, Jefferson, darling. I'm so proud.''

''Bitch.'' He grinned and winked, heading into his office and opening a window. ''Coffee?''

''Of course, darling. Your mother called. She is an unpleasant woman in the mornings.''

He snorted. ''She's an unpleasant woman, period, and she hates you. What did she say?''

''That your name is Austin. That your sister is pregnant. That she was considering coming for a visit.'' James leaned in the doorway, freakishly long and lean, eyes rolling. ''Tell me it's a lie.''

''That my name's Austin? She just regrets naming me after Daddy. That Dawn is knocked up? Probably...