Private Scandal Page 8

  Gemma stomped her foot. “I am in the room! Why is everyone looking at me like I’m trash today?”

  Danny shrugged, his gaze lingering on her chest.

  “You wouldn’t know style if it smacked you in your block head.” She grabbed her handbag and slung it over her shoulder. “You—” she pointed at Brandon, “—you need to stop feeling so damned guilty about the Carlton sisters. If Megan doesn’t want your help, take her at her word and she’ll get what’s coming to her.” She spun on her stiletto heel and pointed at Danny. “And as for you, mister know-it-all, I’m calling your bluff. You and me, New Years Eve, Las Vegas. Not because I like you, or I feel sorry for you being in that chair, but because if you do screw me, Brandon will pay me back.”

  She shook her head, her blonde bob waving about her cheeks. “You men make everything far too complicated.” She sashayed out of the office as if she’d just solved the problem of world peace.

  Danny cleared his throat. “You should have asked her what to do about your Megan problem. Since she has an answer for everything.”

  No way was he letting Gemma into his personal life, especially if Megan already had a problem with her. “You’re just mad because you’re usually the one with all the answers.”

  Danny’s lips quirked as he grinned. “You want to know what I think you should do about Megan?”

  She’d kept only one dress, and everyone had seen it before. Megan held out the black lace over cream dress and wondered if it still fit. After a lifetime of struggling to stay within a size of her smaller sisters, she was managing it by the simple task of not eating enough. It made her tired and cranky, but she could probably fit into the designer sample sizes that were sent to her friends in the hopes the celebutantes might be photographed in them. If Jordana really did expect her to show her face at the major events this season, then Megan would need to make nice with some of her old classmates. That, or become the talk of the town by wearing the same tired dress over and over.

  Megan sighed, wishing she didn’t have to parade herself before the benefactors of the city, didn’t have to risk seeing Brandon and Gemma together. He hadn’t tried to contact her in the last two days, but she figured he was just biding his time, waiting for a chance to strike when it would be deadly and not just scarring.

  After working at the bar last night and a long shift at the coffee shop this morning, the only thing she wanted was a few hours of sleep. Instead, she’d had to turn down a shift at the bar she couldn’t afford to miss for a party that would last until she had to start brewing coffee in the morning.

  Not that she’d stay that long. She’d put in an appearance, let the rumor mill start swirling, and get out long before it could grind her into dust. She’d probably have to do the same thing over and over every weekend until the fundraising party the Saturday before Christmas. Four long weekends of sheer torture. She hoped it would be worth enough to keep the houses running until her sisters could help her think of what to do next.

  Talking with them had been an exercise in caution. Ava was so excited about her new business venture and Briana was busy with school, and Megan hadn’t wanted to weigh them down with her issues. She kept her side of the conversation strictly on what she’d been doing with the Carlton Houses, and that they weren’t going to be called that much longer. Both of her sisters thought it was a lovely idea to name them after women who’d helped so many others.

  Since her sisters hadn’t balked at the idea, Megan knew she’d reacted to Gemma, not the concept. She resigned herself to changing the names of the centers and hoped that Jordana’s idea to let two big contributors choose names of the remaining homes would bring in the capital they all needed.

  Cash scurried about her feet, probably wondering if she’d fallen asleep standing up. He never seemed to know what to do with her while they were in the apartment together. He wanted to play, she wanted to sleep. Megan smiled at his inherent happiness and danced around him for a bit to get her energy going before she changed out of her standard jeans and long sleeve T-shirt for something from her former life.

  She’d kept this dress not for itself, but for the stilettos that matched it. They were the most spectacular shoes she’d ever owned, and she hadn’t wanted to part with them when she’d sold everything else to make the deposits on this hovel of an apartment. She wouldn’t miss it a bit when she left.

  As soon as she knew the Carlton Houses were stable financially, she was going to head towards one of her sisters and away from Brandon Knight. When she did manage to get any sleep, he was the first thing that drifted into her mind. And he was always naked and willing, and if it weren’t for Cash waking her up, she’d probably have called him begging to see him by now. She’d thought of using returning the car as an excuse, but she hadn’t trusted herself, and so she was still borrowing it.

  The entire predicament really made her feel for her mother. She couldn’t help but wonder why her parents had stuck together now, when a scandal like this would have pulled even the closest of couples apart. She didn’t understand it, but now that she’d personally experienced the pull towards a man who’d burned you so badly the scars might never heal, she could at least empathize. Her sisters weren’t so forgiving.

  Megan applied makeup for the first time in weeks and finger combed through her hair, hoping the loose curls looked purposeful. The only mirror in the apartment was barely big enough for her to see her face, so she hoped for the best as she slipped on the dress, stockings and heels. If being seen by her former friends was as mortifying as she feared, at least Evie would be with her. Megan had convinced her to come to the symphony soiree because she couldn’t stand the thought of going alone.

  She buttoned her coat and scooped up Cash, grabbing her handbag and keys on the way out. She stalled on the stairs when she saw the crowd of teens hovering around her car. She beeped the alarm, which usually had them walking away, but today they stayed, one of them leaning on the trunk. It made Cash bark like crazy as she did her best to ignore them as she climbed in the car, pretending she didn’t hear the coarse words they threw her way.

  Her heart hammered in her chest as she locked the doors and drove away. She couldn’t blame them for what they thought, the names they called her. Last week she’d been on a bus, and now she had a car worth more than their families brought home in a year. All because a well-dressed man had shown up on the street a few times. Her eyes stung with tears, but she wouldn’t let them fall.

  Those boys had a point. In a way, she had traded her body for the car. Bile burned the back of her throat as she drove to the Carlton House to drop off Cash and pick up Evie. If strangers could see what she’d done, would she be able to hide it from those who had known her best?

  Chapter Six

  Brandon felt the electricity in the air even before he saw Megan. He tried to listen to whatever it was Gemma found so important, but her words passed through his brain as he scanned the crowd filling the ballroom of the Beverly Carlton. His gaze found Megan like a heat-seeking missile, though she had her back to him and seemed caught up in the tangle of people surrounding her.

  There was something about the way she held her shoulders, something that wasn’t quite right. He’d always kept his distance from her at events, keeping up the veil of privacy they lived their relationship under, so he was very accustomed to watching her. And she was not herself.

  “What are you looking at?” Gemma laid her hand on his arm and leaned into him.

  In that brief moment, Megan turned and registered his presence. Or he thought she had, but she seemed to be looking down and to the left, her expression laced with poison. Brandon followed her dagger-filled gaze straight to Gemma.

  He looked back to Megan, annoyance filling him. Megan could not possibly think anything was going on with Gemma. It was utterly ridiculous, and more than a little insulting.

  He’d never given Megan any reason not to trust him. Gemma was his oldest friend, another lonely only child from the estate neighb
oring his parents. She was a sister, a fact that was awkwardly apparent the one and only time she’d kissed him. Something clicked in his mind, like the ignition on a gas stove, but nothing sparked.

  “Megan Carlton?” Gemma straightened back up. “Your mother told her she needs to make an appearance at all the major events to build her reputation back up. If she wasn’t such a bitch, I’d feel bad for her, having to answer all the questions everyone must have about her father.”

  “Megan’s reputation is impeccable. It’s her father who’s got problems.”

  “Megan is a Carlton asking for money. I don’t think anyone will be signing up to give her more after how her father swindled so many people. Including you. Have you managed to find him yet?”

  “Your fiancé is working on that.”

  Gemma cringed. “Don’t call him that. He’s probably only doing it to drive me insane, but I don’t see what other choice I have since you have your mystery woman.”

  “Danny is good people, Gemma.” Brandon watched as two of the more vapid guys from their social set crowded Megan. The type of boys who never grew up and only cared about how quickly they could spend their family money, Brandon had little patience for them. More so when one rubbed Megan’s arm and didn’t let go as she tried to pull away.

  “Daniel gets some sick delight out of teasing me. He always has, since that first time you brought him home with you from school.” Gemma kept talking, but Brandon had stopped listening completely.

  He crossed the room without knowing he meant to, his feet carrying him without thought. He didn’t need to hear the words being thrown at Megan by the crowd around her, their ugliness reflected on the faces of the people she used to consider friends. Some friends.

  “Excuse me,” he said, stepping between Megan and the worthless troll who hadn’t had the manners to let go of her arm.

  He tried to steer her away, but a voice behind him stopped him cold. “You should wait your turn.”

  Brandon turned and took two steps towards the coward who thought it a good idea to torment a woman. His woman. “What did you say?”

  The idiot’s chin quivered, as it should. Taking out the frustrations of the last few months on this fool would be welcome. He could take this troll outside and show everyone that if they messed with Megan, he would lay them out one by one.

  Megan’s hand wrapped around his clenched fist. “Brandon, please. Not now.”

  He twined her fingers in his and lifted his chin at the worm. There was more than one way to hurt someone. If he couldn’t do it physically, he’d make sure the Patrick clan found their way into some financial trouble.

  He turned and led Megan from the ballroom, grateful that she didn’t try and pry their hands apart even though their exit turned more than a few heads. He pulled her through the hallway and into one of the empty conference rooms the organizers of the party had used to hold decorations before the event. He closed the door and pulled her to him, half-expecting her to push him away.

  Whatever had been said in that room had cut her deeper than he feared because she clung to him as if he were her ballast, and he held her closer. She wrapped her arms around his waist, her hands under the jacket of his dark suit and her head tucked beneath his chin.

  He felt her shaky breaths as she calmed herself, and he cursed every one of the spoiled grown-children who’d made her feel less than she was. No wonder she’d run to Pasadena. She must have guessed the jackals would turn on her if she’d stayed.

  Megan breathed in the familiar scent of Brandon’s cologne and listened to the sound of his steady heartbeat beneath her ear until she no longer wanted to cry. She’d known facing everyone again wouldn’t be pretty, but she’d never imagined it would get quite that ugly. She held tighter to Brandon, trying to absorb his strength and stability. She needed enough of it to shore her up for a while, like for the rest of her life.

  As she calmed down, she realized even Brandon must have an agenda. Yes, he felt guilty about what had happened to her family at his own hand, but there was more to it. He wanted to have his cake and eat it too, and there was one particular slice of devil’s food in the ballroom that was going to be none too happy about the way he’d left the scene.

  That wasn’t her problem. Right now she just needed a booster shot of the confidence she used to have to immunize her against the next few weeks. People were angry about the money they lost because of her father and she was the only Carlton left for them to take their frustrations out on. Knowing that didn’t make the snide remarks and licentious comments any easier to take.

  “Hey, you okay?” Brandon leaned back and lifted her chin with his finger. She looked up and wondered how she was supposed to replace such a satin-voiced, dark chocolate-eyed, scrumptious-smelling man. He’d ruined her in so many ways, financially didn’t even register.

  She nodded like a bobble head, still unsure if she could talk without breaking. Instead she melted into his chocolate gaze like an ice-cream cone in August, and felt her cheeks lift in a smile in spite of her attempts to remain immune. He’d come through when she needed a friend the most, and she couldn’t help but be grateful.

  “I don’t believe you, but I think everyone else will.” He released her and stepped back, forcing her to reluctantly give up her hold on him or look like a clingy fool. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered automatically, lifting a hand to her hair. She knew twirling a curl in her fingers made her look nervous, but she couldn’t help herself.

  “I thought you said you would never wear this dress again.”

  She blinked, remembering how the zipper had gotten stuck when she’d tried to release it. Six months ago it had fit like a sausage casing, now it looked as good on as she’d imagined it would when she’d bought it. The memory made her brighten enough to smile up at him.

  “I’ve learned to never say never.”

  A cocksure grin lit his face and he took her hand. “I’m glad to hear that.”

  Before she could explain that she was still firm on never having sex with him again, he opened the door and started walking back towards the hallway to the ballroom, pulling her along with him.

  “Wait a minute.”

  “Nope, not a minute to lose. You came to work the party, not get attacked by the petulant offspring of the people you need to solicit donations from. We need to get you swirling in the right crowd.”

  He kept up his pace, oblivious that she had to take two steps to his one, in three-inch heels no less. “Brandon, slow down. We can’t go back in there together.”

  “We can and we are. I told you I’m done hiding out.”

  She pulled her hand free of his, nearly stumbling from the loss of his momentum. “We’re not together anymore, so there is nothing to keep private. And if I let you lead me into that room, I can forget about clawing back the respect I’ll need to be an effective fundraiser.”

  He turned to face her, the little crease between his eyes deepening. “If I show that I trust you after the Carlton Hotels deal, then everyone will see that they can trust you too.”

  “You actually believe that.” Megan shook her head. “There are plenty of people who’ll see us together and think that I came with everything else you bought.”

  His eyes widened in shock. “That’s not my fault.”

  “Nothing ever is.” She found herself standing taller, more centered than she’d been before his rescue. Maybe his confidence was as infectious as his cologne.

  “We’re not discussing this here. But if we’d been open with everyone from the start—”

  “You didn’t want that.”

  She softened her gaze, trying to explain. “Don’t you see? If you parade me in there like a trophy, they’ll be right.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “You’ll expect me to go home with you in exchange.” She shrugged and swallowed over the ache in her throat. “And everyone will think I went along with it because of all the money my fa
ther owes you. You know what that would make me.”

  He blinked slowly and took a step closer. “I don’t like where this train of thought is headed. I have wanted to be with you, to take care of you, since long before you needed me to.”

  “What I need is to do this on my own. I have to know that I can take care of myself.”

  He nodded. “Fair enough, but that doesn’t mean I have to pretend you don’t exist.”

  When he offered her his arm, she took it, knowing that fighting with him would be pointless. Heads did turn as they reentered the fray, but instead of the swarm of prying scandalmongers she’d had to face when she arrived, this time she was led straight to his mother.

  Jordana Knight welcomed her with a kiss on the cheek and then piloted her about the room as she greeted cautious former friends of her family. Brandon didn’t hover, but he didn’t disappear into the woodwork either. Every time she felt the slightest unease, her gaze found him within seconds, as if they were bound together by an unseen tether, and her anxiety melted in the assurance of his smile.

  She looked to him each time someone saw fit to confide in her how they’d questioned her father’s business decisions or her mother’s parenting choices over the years. A few of them seemed to be almost apologizing for not speaking up when her father had started collecting for his express hotel expansion or when her mother had allowed her and her sisters to do crazy things like head to Mardi Gras unsupervised.

  The trouble with being a teenager was that you only thought to push the boundaries, and when you had none, there was no telling what you could get away with. She didn’t think her parents were so lenient because of a lack of affection, just of responsibility. They’d wanted babies, and had no idea what to do with children once they were too old for a nanny.

  She knew neither of them were going to win a parenting award, but it was still hard to hear them criticized so harshly. After all, the results of their efforts weren’t so bad. Ava was starting her own business, the scandal had barely registered with Briana who had returned to college as if nothing had changed in her world, and then there was the woman facing them.