Today?
I felt sick at the mention of it. At the memory of what my boss wanted with it.
And, deep down, for the first time ever, I didn’t want to know something.
I was afraid of what it was.
“No,” Brett finally said, snapping his jaw shut. “But thank you for bringing it up. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”
His tone was so dry you could mop up the Atlantic Ocean with it.
“We’ve all done it once in our lives,” Aunt Bel went on, apparently oblivious to his very blatant discomfort and annoyance. “I don’t know why everyone is so worked up about it. It’s just a—”
“That’s enough, Belinda.” Henrick Walker, Brett’s grandfather, stepped up behind her. He clamped a firm hand on her shoulder, and that shut her up with a snap.
I blew out the breath I’d been holding at her words and pressed my fingers against my forehead.
“You know we don’t discuss it. What Brett tells Lani and when is his business,” he continued. “And you will not interfere with that.”
Aunt Bel said nothing. She simply pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows with the petulance of a child in time-out.
Henrick looked at Brett, his gaze gentle yet firm. “You look like you need some air.”
It was less an observation and more an idea. And by idea, I mean order. Brett needed air whether he liked it or not.
To his credit, he didn’t argue. He nodded and excused him from the table before anybody said another word.
Nobody wanted to say another word. At least, I didn’t. My throat was dry, and my stomach knotted as Brett stalked through the room toward the doors. Even though he was angry, he half-stopped several times to greet people, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he did that.
“His to tell,” Henrick continued as he took the seat next to Belinda. “Although you may well have forced him to tell her before he was ready to.”
Tell me what? I wanted to ask. What wasn’t he ready to tell me? What was he hiding?
And maybe more importantly, how many more secrets did Brett Walker have?
Did I even know him at all?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
BRETT
“I just need a break from Aunt Bel. Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll be back down soon.” I kissed her cheek.
“She’s not supposed to be at your table.” She frowned as she patted my hand in hers. “I’ll have a word or two with her.”
I waved it off. “It’s fine. Pops is there. I just need to breathe.”
I walked away from her before she could protest further. I knew the floors and halls of Walker Hotel like I knew the back of my hand, given that I’d worked here every weekend for two years when I was a teenager. I also knew that the entire top floor would be blocked off in case any of us wanted to stay in one of the suites tonight, so that was the direction I headed in.
I grabbed a key from reception and took the elevator up. Focusing on the four, silver walls around me kept my annoyance in check until the doors pinged open to the top floor.
Then, as I stepped out, I felt that boxed-up anger explode through me.
I slammed the door to one of the suites shut behind me and threw the key card onto the sofa. It bounced off onto the floor, but I left it there as I headed for the doors to the balcony. I yanked open the doors and loosened my tie with a harsh jerk as I stepped outside.
The sea air did nothing for me. Neither did the view. I didn’t care for the calmness of the waves as they crawled up the beach or the unmoving white clouds hanging against the edge of the sunset as it crept across the sky.
I didn’t want to be calmed. I wanted to be annoyed.
The Thing.
The Fucking Stupid Thing I never should have done—never mind that I wasn’t completely aware of it happening. It was just one more blot on my fucked up record of my early twenties. Something I now held full responsibility for.
That made it worse. Knowing I could no longer blame my actions on someone else riddled me with guilt, not only because I had, but because I had no excuses. I had no excuses for my behavior then because I was the sole cause of it. I was the one who summoned the storm that I would come to blame for my shitty decisions.
The guilt of that was enough. I never wouldn’t feel guilty for hurting Lani. I never wouldn’t feel guilty about blaming my actions and choices on her leaving.
I never wouldn’t feel guilty for blaming her for what happened that night. For the thing that made my family more ashamed of me than I ever thought they could be.
The Thing. The reason Lani had even been inserted right back into my life the way she had been. What a full fucking circle it’d been.
I made her leave.
And when she found out about the thing I regretted, the thing I kept hidden, that had cost a lot of money to keep hidden, she’d probably leave again.
I knew that. That was why I never wanted her to know. Not because I was malicious or I wanted to keep anything from her, but because I didn’t want her to go.
I could survive without her, but that didn’t mean I could live without her.
“Brett?” Lani’s voice was hesitant and questioning all at the same time. “Are you here?”
“On the balcony.” I leaned forward onto the railing and stared out at the beach below.
The door clicked shut across the room. I took in a deep breath and dropped my head down. Was she going to ask me about it? Would I have to tell her right now?
I’d have to tell her. I knew I would. The cat was out of the bag and screeching as it climbed the curtains. I just wanted to...I don’t know. Not do it right this second.
I was a fucking pussy.
Lani leaned her elbows on top of the railing. Her arm brushed mine, and although it wasn’t skin to skin, the fleeting contact made my heart race.
I was fucking done for with her. If that was all it took, I was completely and utterly lost to her.
“That was interesting,” she said.
I looked over at her, my head still dipped down. “Depends on your view of the situation, I expect.”
“The Thing, huh?” Her shining brown eyes found my gaze. “Sounds ominous. Like a basement fell of gremlins who’ve been fed after midnight.”
That drew a small laugh from me. “Probably just as stressful as that.”
“Your Aunt Bel is crazier than I remember her being.”
I shook my head slowly, finally lifting it back up properly. “Nah. Eight years away just diluted your memory some. She’s always been certifiable.”
“Your grandfather shut her up pretty good.”
“Yeah. Shutting up your sister. That’s a skill I hope he’ll teach me one day.”
Lani giggled. “You love her really.”
“Only on Tuesdays and Fridays. Mondays are negotiable.” I half-smiled.
“Does Camille know about the ominous The Thing?”
“She does.” And she’s the reason nobody outside of my family does.
“So, it’s a big family secret?”