Private Scandal Page 12

  The door slammed and Megan shuddered. She wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed tight, wishing someone else could hold her. Pushing aside the pity and the panic, she grabbed her handbag and boots, sat down on the bench by the door and zipped them up.

  The elevator for the penthouse was dedicated, but she could take the stairs one flight down and catch the regular elevator to the lobby. Still, she had to hurry because she doubted Danny was going to keep Brandon occupied for longer than the elevator ride.

  It wasn’t much of a plan, but she’d been living life one step at a time. Last night had simply been a short reprieve after a horribly dark moment. She’d known better than to believe it would last.

  She made her way to the door and pulled it open, finding the only person she wanted to see less than Brandon.

  His mother.

  Brandon tore into his penthouse, yelling for Megan. His heart hammered so hard it threatened to leap from his chest. He charged from room to room, knowing he wouldn’t find her but still needing to check. He let out a primal roar of frustration as he lifted her discarded nightgown from the floor.

  Just like before, she’d vanished and left all her memories behind. Clothes on the floor, hairbrush on the counter, empty coffee mug on the nightstand, and her scent on his bed. This time he wondered not just if she was coming back, but if he wanted her to.

  He’d nearly forgotten that afternoon when Gemma had told him about her stupid plan, too much had been going on with Megan for it to register. It explained her anger, the depths of her sense of betrayal, but nothing excused the way she threw it in Danny’s face.

  His Megan was kinder than that, and would have made sure she had her facts straight before sucker punching someone. This creature had no qualms about attempting to ruin someone else’s life with conjecture and assumptions. And she should have known better. Should have known him better than that.

  He pulled all the linens off the bed, having learned from experience that it was impossible to sleep in a bed that smelled like Megan without her in it. As he’d followed Danny, he’d known Megan would be gone when he returned. As much as he wanted to explain himself, it was probably for the best. If she were anyone else, he’d throttle her for hurting his friend.

  Danny might want him to think marrying Gemma was a game, but Brandon knew there was more to it, on Danny’s side at least. He should have mentioned the awkward kiss and even more awkward proposal, but it hadn’t mattered enough to him to have it register. Danny was the only person he trusted not to take advantage of Gemma, as far too many people had, and so everything had seemed complete. But the devil was in the details, which was what made Danny so important to him in business. They complemented each other, and together had been able to accomplish in a few years what it had taken his father a lifetime to attain.

  He didn’t want to lose any part of Danny’s trust, and though by the time he drove away it seemed as if they were on even footing again. Shaky ground, yes, but they had enough of a foundation to build things back.

  Megan was another story entirely. It cut him to the quick that she thought so little of him. She’d slapped Danny with what she’d seen, but he’d been stunned by it as well. It was a piece of the puzzle that helped others fit—why he’d become persona non grata with her, the motivation behind the hickey’s she’d left him with a couple weeks back, and even the unmistakable distrust she held between them like a shield.

  But understanding it in theory did nothing to help the rage burning within at being accused of something he would never do. If Megan was so certain that he would, that he had, she didn’t know him half as well as he thought. Keeping their relationship a secret had kept it hot, kept it sacred, but maybe it had also kept them from actually knowing one another at all.

  If Jordana Knight had been surprised to see her in Brandon’s apartment, she took it in stride. As much as Megan wanted to get perspective and distance from Brandon and his web of lies, she didn’t want to risk offending his mother.

  For as long as she could remember, Megan had wanted to be Jordana Knight when she grew up. She didn’t know the older woman well, which probably led to the allure, but she had an intelligence and quiet strength that everyone admired. While everyone dismissed her own mother as a party girl who married well, people respected Jordana and what she accomplished for the community. Someday, Megan hoped people thought of her accomplishments the same way, if there ever were any.

  “Would you like to come in?” Megan couldn’t help but feel awkward.

  “No, I’m meeting someone downstairs. I just wanted to drop off the pass card for the penthouse.”

  Megan blinked. “You have a key?” That no one else had access to the penthouse had been a condition of their relationship. Megan didn’t want to risk popping in and finding someone else here.

  Jordana motioned to the other penthouse. “Brandon thought we might like it, but I like my house. I’m finally finished renovating and I don’t want to take on a redecorating project. Not with so much to do.”

  Megan took the card Jordana held out and slipped it into her purse, her heart rate climbing. She had nowhere else to go, and the apartment that had once belonged to her family might give her enough time to think through a proper solution.

  “Since Brandon isn’t here, why don’t you keep me company downstairs for a bit?” She didn’t wait for a response before turning towards the elevator and pressing the button.

  Out of respect for the woman and self-preservation, Megan followed. If Brandon was in the elevator when it arrived, he would not make a scene in front of his mother. The empty car arrived and Megan breathed a sigh of relief as they stepped inside.

  “I’m staying in the guestroom.” She stared straight ahead, catching both her own and Jordana’s reflections in the mirror. “There was a break-in at my apartment last night, so Brandon put me up for the night.”

  The older woman’s perfectly arched brows knit together. “Megan, my son is thirty-one years old. I don’t have any delusions about his virtue.”

  “Nor mine it seems.” Megan stood taller, wishing people thought her more than a plaything. “I was just on my way to the police station to see if an officer would escort me to the apartment. They were processing it last night, so I didn’t get to take much with me. Not that there is anything left.” Her voice trailed off as her throat closed. She did her best to shutter her grief, but from the pity in the other woman’s gaze she could tell she’d failed.

  “Oh, honey.” Her warm fingers curled around Megan’s arm. “You don’t want to wait for Brandon to go with you?”

  She shook her head. “He doesn’t want me to go back there, but it’s my mess. I didn’t make it, but I’m responsible for cleaning it up.”

  “That’s the story of your life right now, isn’t it?” The doors opened and Jordana released her hold. “Let’s take my meeting quickly and then I’ll go with you. You shouldn’t have to do this alone. Any of it.”

  Megan followed her into the bar on the mezzanine level. They were seated so quickly Megan barely had time to wonder if Jordana would pull her support when she found out Brandon was no longer interested. There might not be much hope for the future of the Carlton Houses without Jordana’s influence. It wasn’t enough of a reason to stay with Brandon, but it would be something she’d regret.

  “When was the last time you ate?”

  Megan tacked on a smile and toyed with the silverware, trying to get it perfectly spaced. “I’m fine.”

  “You know, your mother always said you were the one she didn’t have to worry about. But I see you struggling to hold it all together and I wonder if maybe she should have.”

  “My sisters kept her plenty busy.” Megan’s nerves calmed at the opportunity to bring the conversation back to neutral territory. “And so did looking after the Carlton Houses. It’s amazing how much time it can take to steer things in the right direction.”

  A waitress stepped to the table and took Jordana’s order for hot apple cid
er and cookies. Megan hoped the rumble from her stomach in response wasn’t actually audible. When they were alone again, Jordana folded her hand in front of her on the table.

  “How is your mother?”

  “Fine, I hope.” Adrenaline jolted through Megan’s veins. Was this not a chance meeting, but a way to milk her for information? She met the older woman’s gaze and saw nothing but sincerity.

  “You haven’t spoken to her?”

  Megan shook her head and wetness filling her eyes until she closed them to stem the flow. “I hate this. You have been nothing but nice to me, and yet I’m wondering why you’re being kind, why you’re asking about my mother.”

  “She was my friend. We weren’t terribly close, but I have been concerned about her.” Megan felt Jordana’s fingers wrap around her own and clenched her jaw.

  “None of us have heard from either of them.” She opened her eyes and sniffled, trying to regain her composure. “Every time I think I’ve had the worst day of my life, another pops up and takes its place.”

  “I know that feeling.” She tilted her head, her platinum hair brushing her shoulder. The waitress returned and Jordana pulled her hand away to take her mug. Megan did the same, letting the spiced cider warm her from the inside out.

  “If you hear anything from her,” Jordana put her cup down, “I’d like to know that she’s okay.”

  “So would I.” Megan’s cup rattled as she set it on the table, her head starting to throb as she wondered when that might be. She had a sneaking suspicion that Brandon’s meeting with Danny this morning had something to do with finding the Carlton money. Danny had been a Special Forces operative and was key to the information gathering piece of Brandon’s business. If he couldn’t find the Carlton’s, her chances were slim.

  “Sorry I’m late.” Gemma Ryan’s voice trilled through the nearly empty bar. “There is so much planning to do, I don’t know if I’ll be able to pull it all together.”

  The leggy blonde swept in, kissing Jordana on the cheek and giving Megan an annoyed look. Something clicked in Megan, like sights focusing on a target. Most of her anger and frustrations didn’t have a mark, but her jealousy had one very definitive point.

  “Why are you in such a rush to get married?” Megan asked, her pulse racing. “Did you get knocked up?”

  Gemma gasped. “I was talking about the Alzheimer’s benefit. My marriage is none of your business.”

  Jordana blanched. “Girls, what is going on with you two? And Gemma, since when are you getting married?”

  “Go on, Gemma. I’d love to hear how your stories match up.” She stared at her, watching her chin start to tremble and getting no small satisfaction out of it when Gemma turned away.

  “Danny and I are going to elope in Las Vegas next month.”

  “Elope?” Jordana asked. “What’s the rush? You don’t want to miss out on having a wedding.”

  “We want to be married, not engaged,” Gemma replied.

  “Are you sure?” Megan taunted. “He didn’t seem so keen on the idea earlier.”

  Gemma’s head jerked around. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing I feel even remotely guilty for. Can you say the same thing?” She felt horrible for having to be the bearer of bad news to Danny, but not guilty. He needed to know his world had been turned around by his best friend and his fiancée. At least Brandon had betrayed her with someone she hardly knew. She glared at the bottle blonde, wishing she would disappear and stop hurting people with her selfishness.

  “Me?” Gemma placed a hand on her chest. “You are a horrible person. I don’t know why Brandon feels the need to help you, but you need to leave Daniel alone.”

  “I don’t think that will be a problem for either of us. Knowing what I know, and knowing what you did, I think we’re the last people he wants to see.”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  Megan shrugged. “Danny and I see it differently.”

  “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” Gemma’s phone rang in her purse.

  “Go on, you’ll want to take that. Like I said, you’ll want to get your stories straight.”

  “I think you lost your mind with your manners and your money.” Gemma dug into her purse and came out with a rhinestone-studded phone. “It’s Brandon. I’m going to tell him how obnoxious you are. Then he will stop feeling so sorry for you and you can disappear like your parents.”

  Megan only just managed to hold back the urge to hurtle her mug at the back of the twit’s head as she retreated. She had to get out of this town because if she ever saw Brandon kissing that tramp again, she might wind up hurting them both.

  Chapter Nine

  “Mind telling me what that’s about?” Jordana’s dark eyes sparkled, her cheeks lifting in unexpected amusement.

  “I really don’t want to get into it.” Megan reached for her purse and stood. “Thank you for everything, but I really should be going.”

  “Sit.”

  She responded automatically to the tone, finding herself back in the chair.

  “Gemma is a nice girl.”

  “Gemma is a two-timing slut who got caught.”

  Jordana lifted one perfectly sculpted brow, as if showing off the cosmetic artistry were more important than Gemma’s tawdry indiscretions. “If that’s true, it’s Danny’s issue. I wasn’t aware they were even seeing each other, but whatever happened, it doesn’t concern you. Don’t make her the target for your anger. You’re better than that.”

  “You’re right. I wish with everything in me that I didn’t care. But even though I know what happens changes everything, I can’t get it to change how I feel.”

  “And how is hurting Gemma going to help?”

  “She had a hand in ruining my life, and I can’t see her without wanting to throttle her.”

  “But she didn’t have anything to do with the business deal.”

  “I don’t care that Brandon took the company. I care that he didn’t trust me enough to warn me a tsunami was about to hit my life and I might want to head to higher ground, but the business deal didn’t do any damage I can’t fix. He did.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Megan closed her eyes for a moment, wishing she could confide everything and in return be given the power to make it all right again. But Jordana would make things right for Brandon, no one else. “You’re his mother. It’s your job to believe in him. I’ve seen some things that make it so I can’t anymore.”

  “But what does Brandon’s business decisions have to do with Gemma?”

  Megan didn’t know what to say, so she stared at Jordana, hoping the older woman could fill in the blanks without a play-by-play.

  “You think that Brandon and Gemma…” Her voice trailed off and she gave a decided shake of her head. “They are like brother and sister. There must be an explanation for whatever you saw.”

  “I’m sure they’re running through the options right now.”

  “It doesn’t make any logical sense, Megan.”

  No, it didn’t. Which made it hurt all the more. She couldn’t find a place where she’d done anything to drive him away, having always worked to keep him so enthralled he wouldn’t look elsewhere. But he had. “If I hadn’t seen it for myself, I would have a hard time believing it too. In fact, it rendered me speechless, which is pretty hard to do.”

  “You have to think about this, it doesn’t add up. Why would Brandon have called Gemma and me to help with the charity if not to help you? Why would he be taking care of you now?” She tilted her head to the side, concern shading her expression. “How does he explain all of it?”

  “I know how it works, I’ve seen my father do the dance often enough. I don’t really care to hear Brandon sing the same song.”

  “Don’t you think you owe him a chance to explain?” Jordana placed her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her hand.

  “I’m trying very hard not to owe him anything.” Megan twisted her napkin in her lap.<
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  “How long have you and Brandon been together?”

  Megan looked up, startled by the question. “Why do you ask?”

  “Come now, Megan. Let’s not be coy. I know it’s been longer than anyone imagines. I knew he was seeing someone, but he’s always been private about that area of his life. It was almost five years ago that he asked me about cockapoo breeders. I didn’t put any of it together until I saw you with the same dog I’ve seen at Brandon’s penthouse on occasion.”

  Megan nodded. “Seven years.”

  Jordana’s eyes darkened with worry. “How old were you?”

  Megan felt her cheeks lift in smile at the older woman’s genuine concern. “I was eighteen. Few people get to stay with their first love. We just blew up in spectacular fashion.”

  Jordana sat back in her chair. “I don’t understand. You’ll fight tooth and nail for a collection of women’s shelters, but you’ll hand the man you love to another woman without a struggle.”

  Her throat tightened and she swallowed over the truth. “I don’t want a competition.”

  “Life is competition, Megan. You know that.” She took a deep breath and leaned forward. “Do you think there is any chance, no matter how slim, there is an explanation for what you saw that you can live with?”

  Megan moved her head from side to side, trying to shake reality into her brain. “We don’t trust each other, and you really can’t come back from that, no matter how bad you might want to.”

  “I disagree.” She blinked slowly, her lips pressed together in the way Brandon did when he was thinking something over. “Did Brandon ever tell you why we sent him to military school?”

  “He had a party on the yacht. He says it was almost worth it.”

  She rubbed her thumb against a perfectly French manicured nail. “I’d just finished radiation for my second round with breast cancer and we did a body scan and found it in my liver and bones. I focused on the next course of treatment and alternative therapies. I didn’t think what fifteen years of my cancer treatments had done to Paul. I didn’t think of him at all, and there was someone who let him forget everything for a drunken night.”