The Billionaire's Private Scandal Read online

  She turned to face Brandon, cocking her head to the side and trying to appear haughty for all she was worth, which wasn’t much anymore. “And?”

  “She said you had quite the fight, you know, about me. It seems that to her, you were all about defending my honor. And yet when I see you, you can’t be bothered to even step on my toes. What’s that about, Meg?”

  “I didn’t have all the facts. It turned out you are every bit as cold and ruthless as my sister thought.”

  “Come on now, Meg. Cold isn’t something I’ve ever been around you.”

  “You don’t feel the chill?” She stared into his dark eyes, wishing she’d realized that what she’d read as concern for all those years hadn’t been anything close.

  He met her gaze and held it, doing the most convincing acting job of appearing hurt. As if she could do him any damage. Nothing another big deal and Gemma Ryan couldn’t soothe, anyway. She shook off his arm and took a step back.

  “What else did Ava say?”

  “You want to know, get in the car.” He used the remote to unlock the doors on his Escalade.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  “I’m not discussing your sister in the middle of the street. So either you get in the car and let me take you to lunch like the civilized woman you used to be, or we go upstairs to what you call an apartment and talk through what is going on. Your choice.” He opened the passenger door of the SUV and stood beside it.

  If he needed to tell her something about Ava in private, it couldn’t be good. Her gut twisted with fear and the memory of the last time she’d seen her older sister. They’d fought horribly about where to go and what to do. Ava had always let men use her, sleeping with guys who didn’t deserve her time, let alone her body. And she’d thought that was the solution again, find a boyfriend who’d let them move in until everything was sorted out. It was sad, more so because Megan had left the hotel with the intention of asking Brandon for help, and found his lips occupied by a tramp he’d always described as a friend.

  She shook her head, refusing to wallow in her own mistakes. If Ava was in trouble, she needed to know about it. Better to find out the details in public. Whenever Brandon was too close, she tended to forget about what she’d seen in that hallway.

  Not wanting to give Brandon the satisfaction of hearing her agree to his demands, she merely climbed into the passenger seat and buckled herself in while he closed the door. The smell of his aftershave swirled around her, but she refused to let it remind her of what used to be. He was Gemma’s now. Maybe she ought to find a way to let the witch know just who’d picked out this particular scent for him.

  She stared out the window as Brandon got in and started the SUV. She’d always been careful to keep things private, to maintain a clandestine air about their relationship. It was supposed to keep things exciting, keep him from getting bored and moving on. Her father had once said the surest way to get a man to leave was to ask him to stay, so she never gave herself the option. She’d always been the one to leave, showing up unexpectedly to keep him off-balance.

  When Brandon started hinting about making their relationship more public, Megan had been purposely aloof. He’d said he wanted a ring on her finger, but he never bought one. He’d claimed he wanted to be able to take her out, but he never invited her. It had given her a hope that she knew better than to have.

  Men like him, men like her father, didn’t love anything but the thrill of the chase—whether they were chasing women or money. She’d thought she could outplay him, but he moved faster than the scenery outside the car window. She closed her eyes and prayed Ava hadn’t been burned the same way.

  “Are you asleep?”

  Megan blinked at the sound of Brandon’s voice, unsure if she had drifted off. “Of course not.”

  Yet somehow the car had stopped at an Italian chain restaurant they often had delivered. As she blinked to awareness, she realized this would be the first time they went to a restaurant together. Sure, they’d shared a meal alongside dozens of their common friends at parties, but whenever they were alone, they were always ensconced in his penthouse. It was right across from her father’s, so no one ever questioned her coming and goings from the hotel. She’d thought she was being so smart, but in the end she’d learned the hard way what a fool she’d been.

  Glancing over at him was a mistake. The look in his warm brown eyes could easily be mistaken for kindness, she could simply ignore that it must be pity. Guilt might be niggling at his conscience and she wondered if Gemma Ryan knew him well enough to notice.

  It wasn’t that he was with Gemma that ripped at Megan’s heart—she knew men would never be faithful for long—but she did wonder how long he’d managed to juggle them both. She’d never seen it coming, never felt any of the twinges of suspicion that women talked about. Maybe because she’d never had a right to, maybe because she had a knack for showing up in his bed unannounced and uninvited, and he’d always been alone.

  “Are you hungry?” Brandon asked, the pity evident in his weak smile.

  “Not in the slightest,” she lied, clutching her bag to her middle. She was painfully close to having enough cash for the phone charger, and she wasn’t about to waste her money on food. She could eat again at work, except she didn’t work either job until Wednesday, two days away. Still, lunch here would use up a quarter of what she’d managed to save since she’d forfeited her tips to Wendy.

  His gaze swept her body. “You’re too thin. Doesn’t that scare you?”

  While he climbed out of the car and circled around to open her door, Megan glanced down at herself as if for the first time. She’d always been the thicker Carlton sister, but it wasn’t much of a club. Ava had curves that left too many men drooling, while Megan had a chocolate addiction, or had when she’d been able to afford it.

  She slipped out of the car, her mind still reeling with the realization her skinny jeans were being held up by a belt, while Brandon’s hand at the small of her back steered her into the restaurant and to their table.

  The heavenly aromas of garlic and herbs danced around her as she tried to focus on the bowl of ramen noodles she’d make when she got home. When the waitress arrived with a basket of warm breadsticks, Megan’s hand twitched under the table. She swallowed hard and her stomach grumbled in protest.

  Brandon stared at her, as if daring her to give in and order, but she merely shook her head and dug her fingernails into her palms. She was here to find out what he knew about Ava. After that, she’d figure out just where they were and take a bus back to the apartment. This wasn’t a date. It was his guilt dragging him down to slum with her.

  He shook his head and flashed a megawatt smile at the waitress. “She’ll have a diet cola and the mixed grill, hold the potatoes. I’ll get the seafood alfredo and iced tea.”

  “Water is fine for me, actually.” She wasn’t about to take in any more caffeine. When she made it back to her mattress, she had a date with as much sleep as she could manage. Megan hoped her Hollywood smile matched his. Either way, the waitress didn’t seem to notice their display at all before she bustled away.

  “You need to eat, Megan.”

  “What I do is none of your business. I came here so you would tell me about my sister.”

  He stared at her as if she’d started speaking a foreign language. She met his gaze and held it, loathing each time she had to blink.

  “No.” Brandon reached into the basket and took out a breadstick. Steam wafted up as he broke it in half.

  “Then I’m leaving.” She scooted her chair out and wished she’d paid attention during the drive. There was no telling where they were or how many busses she’d have to take to get back to her illustrious Pasadena abode.

  “I’ll tell you everything I know if you’ll eat something. You’re scaring me, Megan. For the first time in forever I don’t know what is going on w
ith you and you’ve completely shut me out.”

  The man should be an actor. He had the looks for it and managed to deliver that little spiel with enough conviction to convince anyone he cared. Anyone who hadn’t had him steal her family fortune and cheat on her on the same day. There really wasn’t any coming back from that.

  She settled into her chair and slid her bag to the ground. If he was feeling so guilty about just how far she’d fallen, then maybe he should buy her lunch. Maybe a glass of wine and dessert, too. She hadn’t wasted money on either in far too long and he owed her in spades.

  Brandon Knight had dragged her here under the pretense of telling her about her sister, the least he could do was pay for a meal. That’s what Ava would say anyway. Happy with her new decision, Megan reached for a breadstick of her own.

  “So Brandon, what’s new with you? Any other lives you’ve scuttled lately?” She bit into the soft breadstick, the warmth intensifying the garlic flavor.

  “Megan.” He cleared his throat and wiped his hands on his napkin. “I did not steal your family’s company. I saved it. Your dad—”

  “You say potato…” She rolled her eyes. “You’re a corporate raider. It’s what you do. It’s not personal, it’s business. Pardon me if I happen to find what went down very personal.”

  “I am an activist shareholder. He was bleeding the entire corporation. If I hadn’t managed to get him out of control and have the board sell off the subsidiaries, your precious Carlton Hotels would have been bankrupt.”

  “It’s yours now. There’s not a Carlton in the mix anymore.” She leaned back in her chair and wished the waitress would return so she could order wine, maybe a whole bottle.

  “Did you ever stop and think I bought it because I knew what it meant to you? You want so badly to paint me the villain in this, but I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  She froze, anger boiling up from deep within her. It took her a few breaths before she could speak without wanting to spear him with a fork. Lucky for her, she’d had months to think about what she’d say to him.

  “Spare me your guilt-induced back pedaling. If you don’t like yourself very much right now, it’s because of what you did, not how I reacted to it. It’s one thing to play me as hard and as rough as you did, it’s quite another to try and wrap it up in a pretty package and call it altruistic. Millionaires quake when you start buying into their companies because they know you plan on restructuring them right out of their income bracket, not because you are known for being soft and cuddly.”

  “I’m talking about this deal, Meg.” He tapped his finger on the table for emphasis. “This deal, not all the ones I did before or have done since. He was destroying something you were proud of.”

  “I’m sorry, but my father isn’t at this table. I’m talking about you, Brandon. If you really were trying to save Carlton Hotels for me, you would have told me before it all went down.”

  “If I’d have told you, you would have run straight to him.”

  “You do see where your selfless logic gets fuzzy here, right?”

  Brandon’s chest rose and fell as he huffed a deep breath. “You are exasperating. How hard is it to see that I was trying to do this for you, as a gift.”

  “La Perla is a gift, Brandon.” She tamped down the images of just how much of the pricey lingerie he’d given her over the years. “Taking my family’s business for your own isn’t something you do to say happy birthday.”

  He had the decency to look apologetic. “The timing stunk, but it couldn’t be helped.”

  “I don’t care about your flimsy explanations. Let Carlton Hotels be a souvenir of a relationship gone wrong and leave me alone.”

  He leaned back in his chair and stared at her over steepled fingers. “No.”

  Chapter Three

  “What do you mean no?”

  “It’s a simple word, Meg. I know you weren’t accustomed to it, especially from me, but I am not going to just walk away and leave you to whatever this destructive game is that you’re playing with your life.”

  “See, right there, it’s my life.”

  The waitress arrived with two steaming plates of food just as Megan was looking about the table for cutlery to filet him with. He was the most infuriating man. As the waitress moved to set Brandon’s plate of pasta in front of him, Megan grinned and reached out.

  “Actually, that’s for me.” Without batting a false eyelash, the waitress set the cream laden pasta in front of Megan, serving Brandon the grilled meat and vegetables. How he hated vegetables.

  Megan quickly twirled her fork into the fettuccini, feeling better than she had all day. In her previous life, she’d been too concerned about calories and carbs to indulge in something so decadent. Let Brandon be good with the zucchini and peppers, she was going to comfort herself with scallops and parmesan.

  “Could you bring a bottle of sauvignon blanc?” She named her favorite Napa valley vintage and only wondered for two seconds about the price. “One glass. He’s driving.”

  “Sure thing.” The waitress was only gone long enough for Megan to get through her first bite before returning with the wine. Megan swirled the wine in her glass and breathed in the fresh scent of passion fruit and lime. One sip and she reveled in the zesty citrus taste. She loved how wine could encompass so many flavors at once.

  “That wine goes with your lunch,” Brandon looking longingly at the plate of pasta.

  “It really does.” Megan smiled and took another sip, glad Brandon got to be the one to want something he couldn’t have for once. “Are you going to tell me what you know about my sister now?”

  He used his fork to play with the vegetables, and then seemed to give up and lay it aside. “Ava is in New York.”

  Megan blinked slowly. “You’re kidding.”

  “She’s starting her own business.”

  Maybe there was something to Wendy’s reality-television theory. Megan looked around for cameras, because the only thing Ava was driven to do was the chauffer.

  “It seems like she and Sullivan are pretty serious.”

  “Sullivan?”

  “Jack Sullivan? Quiet guy, designed those computer games for that social networking site and made a mint.”

  Megan pulled her shoulders back and wondered what kind of alternative universe her sister had walked into, and where she might find the door. “She stopped going out with him because he never tried to sleep with her, and you know how every guy wants to get with Ava. She thought he was using her as some kind of beard.”

  “He’s a pretty stand-up guy. She looks as if what went down is the best thing that ever happened to her. Well, except she’s worried about you since you haven’t returned her calls or emails.”

  Megan closed her eyes and shook her head, wishing she’d been able to get the phone working by now. Ava seemed to have taken her idea to find a guy willing to support her until she was back on her feet all the way to the bank. But more than that, if what Brandon was saying were true, Ava might just have grown up, at least a little. She looked over at Brandon and a wave of sadness washed over her again. When she needed him most, he’d been face-first in another woman. She prayed Jack Sullivan really did ride in on a white horse.

  “Your sister is worried about the fight you two had the last time she saw you.”

  “Did you tell her that I’m fine and how to find me?”

  “You haven’t been taking her calls or emails, so I assumed you didn’t want her to know about your current…situation.”

  “I don’t have an email address except the one I use for fundraising for the shelter. She hasn’t sent anything there. Maybe she signed me up for one to go along with that ridiculously expensive phone she gave me. It’s been dead since before we fought, and a new charger costs more than I’ve been able to pull together.”

  “A cell-phone charger is like twenty buc
ks. I have a drawer full of them.”

  Megan shook her head. “Ava had to have these phones that charge using a power pad. There is nowhere to plug anything into the phone, so they look sleek, but unless you have your little power phone mat, you’re sunk.”

  “She bought one of those?”

  “She bought three. She’s always looking to get the next thing before everyone else.” Megan tucked into the pasta again. “What kind of business is she starting?”

  “Some online thing renting purses. It doesn’t make much sense to me but she’s excited about it and Sullivan thinks it will float. She’s already done a test market.”

  The food and wine weren’t helping. She was supposed to be the savvy Carlton sister. Ava was sexy, Briana was smart, and yet the savvy one had a GED and an apartment on the wrong side of Pasadena. Somewhere along the way she’d miscalculated and her high road had taken her very low.

  Brandon continued to pepper the silence with random bits about her sisters’ new lives. Briana’s classes at the university and internship at boutique hotel, Ava writing a business plan, and a few things about the weather that showed how uncomfortable he was with the silence. “You can use my phone to call her.”

  Megan shook her head and poured another glass of wine. She was too embarrassed to tell her sisters how her righteous indignation had turned out. She was learning to take care of herself, but she was also learning how impossibly hard it was to be completely on your own.

  If she’d had the same opportunities as her sisters, she might have veered from her path and taken another. But the only man she’d ever slept with was sitting across the table and she couldn’t leave southern California for her cat-loving aunt’s home.

  Self-pity felt like quicksand, so Megan grabbed on to the edge of what she could to pull herself out. “Why were you in New York? Stalking my sister, too?”

  A slow grin spread across his handsome face. “If I was stalking you, you would have been prey long ago. I was researching a textile firm we were thinking of acquiring, so I tracked down Ava while I was there.”