“Seth actually brought up those very concerns a few minutes ago,” Cody says. “He wants to get her home tonight and have her place monitored, but not until late. We want every second we have to see how things develop.” He glances at Shane. “Unless you have a problem with this strategy.”
“Not at all,” Shane says, urging me forward, down the hallway toward our apartment, and while I am actually impressed with how forward-thinking Seth is, that “how things develop” comment is bothering me. It speaks of dangerous unknowns, and without question, if we don’t find leverage to get Adrian Martina to walk away, someone else will get hurt. But as we reach our door, I decide voicing the obvious does nothing. Shane and everyone on his team—even Derek, of all people—are clearly working their backsides off to get us out of this.
Whatever the case, Shane opens the door, and it’s time to put this aside and show Jessica a happy face. Only Jessica isn’t the one who wants my attention. I step inside the apartment, and almost instantly Brandon Senior shouts, “Ms. Stevens, I need you in here!”
Cody locks up behind us, then heads into the apartment, while I sigh and take a step toward the kitchen, my path to Brandon Senior where he still sits in the dining room. Shane catches my hand, snagging my fingers and walking me back to him. “Ms. Stevens,” he says softly. “I need you upstairs.”
My eyes go wide. “No. Your father and Jessica are here.”
His eyes alight with mischief. “That didn’t stop us earlier.” He kisses me. “I’ll behave, but just know this. Every time I want to throttle someone this afternoon, I’ll distract myself by thinking of you with no panties on.” He cups my backside through my dress, his cheek sliding to mine, lips near my ear. “I really love your ass.” He nips my lobe, and I yelp as his father calls out again, “Ms. Stevens!”
“Jesus,” Shane growls, easing back to look at me. “I don’t know how you put up with that. I’m going in the office to call Ted’s wife, and then I’ll come rescue you from the hell that is my father.”
“You’re calling Ted’s wife?”
“And Ted too if he’s up to talking, though I’d doubt it. But I do think he needs to hear our appreciation, and they both need to know we’re going to take care of them.”
“My heart just melted,” I confess. “I think I just fell more in love with you.”
His sexy, full lips quirk. “Remember that the next time I piss you off the way I did this morning.” He kisses my hand and walks away, cool and confident, seemingly unaffected by all that has slammed into him these past few days. But there is something beneath his surface, a darkness—anger, even. I wonder what will happen when it surfaces.
And who will get hurt.
*
The next few hours see afternoon become evening, for most of which Shane and Derek are behind closed doors in the dining room with their father, though each of them come and go randomly for meetings I don’t question. For the most part, Jessica and I remain curled on the floor in the office, in front of the couch, our shoes off, coffee on fast pour. Turns out that together we are a dynamic team, efficiently handling all leftover business matters for the Brandon men and clearing their slates and ours. It’s not long after that, nosy bee that she is, Jessica discovers my file on the fashion brand I’ve proposed for Bandon Enterprises, and her excitement that follows is nothing short of addictive. We start making plans and drafting ideas, and without knowing she’s doing it, she’s helped me keep my mind off Adrian Martina.
“I think you should have a Jessica line,” she says. “And, of course, I’ll approve the designs. They have to live up to my very high standards.”
“Of course.” I laugh. “And they are high.”
She strokes her new long blond hair. “We have hair extensions. And so many shoes. Like, two floors of shoes.”
“We aren’t a department store.” I laugh again. “A brand name.”
“We could do both.”
From there, we talk for hours, and in that time, I learn little things here and there about Jessica. Turns out that underneath her shell of confidence and perfection is pain. She’s adopted, but her parents are no longer alive, and little hints tell me they weren’t such nice people anyway. And while I knew she was burned in a relationship before, I discover he was older than her, worked with her in some way, and that she is affected by that past in some deep, damaging way. I’ve known for quite some time that Shane helped her after that relationship, but I don’t ask details, and I won’t. When she’s ready, it’s her right to tell me, not him. But for me, certain things are clear. He’s like a brother to her, and we are her family. Incredibly, the Brandon family, in all its destructive glory, has managed to heal us both through Shane. He saved her, like he did me.
The seven o’clock hour arrives, a long day closing up, and the Brandon clan, along with several of Nick’s men, head to the family house to pack for an early morning flight to Germany. It’s also time for Jessica to depart, and it’s at the door, after Cody has explained her security escort as a way to avoid the press, that I find myself giving her a big hug and silently vowing that we won’t allow her to be hurt.
Suddenly, the energy in the apartment is at a low, with my only guest, Cody, hanging out on the couch, watching television. I retreat to the office and, feeling a growing need to get us out of pharmaceuticals and drugs, I leave a voice mail for the analyst I’ve been working with on fashion acquisitions, hoping to hear from him soon. With that done, I dive into my research on Mike, which leads to one of my list-making frenzies that are all about control, of which I have none right now. I write down the names of Mike’s close friends, with Brandon Senior at the top of the list. Then names of known rivals, followed by principals in companies he’s invested in.
While working, my eyes keep catching on my wrist, where I used to wear the bracelet that was once my mother’s. That I can no longer wear without fear of exposing a link to a past I can never claim. This leads me to thoughts of Maggie and her transition to this unrecognizable person, the comparison to my mother refusing to be ignored. As does my brother, who decides to pop into my head, as does his involvement with hackers as nasty as Martina. For all I know, he has found his own crate, with no way out. Inevitably, those things lead me to another place: my father. Or maybe it’s more watching Brandon Senior interact here today, the way he barks orders, familiar now, when my own father would have been kind and respectful.