“I’m sorry,” she said, wiping her face. “I’m horribly embarrassed to be doing this. My pride seems to have completely deserted me lately. Just please . . . forget I asked. It’s crazy that I would expect something like that after all I’ve done to you.”
Brant sighed, knowing that he was probably making a huge mistake, but unable to turn his back on her. He stood up, pulling his house key from his key ring. He had lived in an apartment back when they were together, so she had never been to his new house. He scribbled the address of his house on the back of a business card and handed both to her. “Why don’t you go to my place and rest? We can talk more this evening. I . . . This can’t be for long though, Alexia, just a few days.”
“Thank you, Brant,” she whispered tearfully as she stood, giving him a hug. Pulling back, she asked, “Could you please not tell anyone, even your family? I . . . just don’t want people looking at me like my parents did.”
“Of course.” He was just dropping his arms from around her when the door burst open. He saw the smile quickly slipping from Emma’s lips as she stood in the doorway. As she started to turn away, he said, “Emma, come on in.” She stopped uncertainly as Alexia turned, looking toward the door. “Emma, this is a friend of mine, Alexia, and Alexia, this is my . . .”—fuck what do I say here?—“assistant, Emma.” Both said hello. Maybe it was his imagination, but the moment seemed awkward as hell to him.
Alexia picked up her handbag. “I’ll see you later on, Brant.” With a parting smile to Emma, she walked out the door. If he had thought things were awkward before, it was doubly so now. He found himself wanting to squirm under Emma’s unwavering stare. He was just helping a friend. He really hadn’t done anything wrong. Maybe he needed to stop acting so damn guilty then.
“Good morning, Emma.” He walked over to shut the door behind her. “I’ve been waiting for you to get here for hours it seems.” Real good, now it sounds like you’re chastising her for being late to work. “I mean, I got here early, so you’re not late.” Yeah, that was much better.
“It looks like you found something to occupy your time. Did you need anything?” she asked over her shoulder as she turned to leave.
Grabbing her hand, he pulled her back against him. “She’s just a friend who came to me because she needs some help.” Looking down at her formfitting black dress, he groaned, “God, you look good today.” Just as Emma softened and moved closer to him, the door burst open yet again.
“Bro, was that your ex I just passed in the hallway?” Declan asked. Brant closed his eyes briefly as Emma stiffened and pulled away. Declan grimaced, noticing for the first time his arm around Emma. “Um, shit, sorry about that. I was just . . . surprised to see Alexia. Maybe I was wrong; it didn’t look anything like her.”
This was just going from bad to worse. He was afraid of what Declan would say next in an effort to pull his foot from his mouth. “It’s fine,” Brant said, “and, yes, it was Alexia.”
Emma pulled her arm away, saying, “I’m going to my desk now,” without making any further eye contact.
When she closed the door behind her, Brant turned to his brother. “Thanks for that.”
Declan took a seat in front of the desk, giving him a wry grin. “That wasn’t one of my smoothest moments. What’s going on here? It sure seemed like I walked in on something.”
Brant took his seat, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He had never been comfortable talking about his personal life, even with his family. He was sorely in need of some moral support, though, and knew that a newly married Declan was more likely to provide that than his sister. “Things with Emma have gotten . . . interesting.”
“Interesting?” Declan asked. “Could you be a little more specific?”
Finally Brant blurted out, “Interesting as in I want her now more than I want to choke her.”
Declan’s eyes widened before he started chuckling. “I always knew that if you two ever stopped all the bitching, you would probably be all over each other. No one argues that much if they don’t give a damn.”
“Yeah, well, suffice it to say, I can’t get her out of my head. I could probably have saved myself a few stomach ulcers if I had parted ways with her after our first verbal sparring match, but that, as they say, is history. Now thanks to her walking in on me while I was hugging Alexia and you announcing to everyone in a three-block radius that she’s my ex, Emma is probably ready to run.”
“Sorry about that. Not cool at all on my part. What is Alexia doing here, though? I didn’t think you had spoken with her in years.”
“I haven’t,” Brant agreed. “She’s in a bit of a bind and needs my help.”
“What kind of help?” Declan asked.
Brant shook his head. “It’s private and I’ve promised her not to tell anyone. It’s going to make it difficult with Emma though.” Before his brother could dig further, he decided to change the subject. “So how’s the whole family thing working out for you?”
The old Declan would have cringed over a question like that, but the new one just grinned. “It’s all good. Ella almost burned the place down last night when she attempted to make homemade manicotti. Evan and I had to wear towels over our faces for an hour. When the smoke detector went off, she started crying. It was a damn mess there for a while. I told her there was no shame in picking up take-out. Without people like us, restaurants would go out of business. It’s a fucking hormonal minefield at our place right now. You make one wrong step and you go from hero to zero in the blink of an eye. Thank fuck that Mac was smart enough not to mention the smell when he got there for his well-done dinner.”
Brant chuckled, trying to picture the scene Declan was describing. It sounded absolutely terrifying, but his brother seemed perfectly content. “You’ve got a few cooking skills; why don’t you help Ella out?”
Declan gave him a rueful smile, saying, “I’ve tried, but she is craving all this stuff right now that is beyond both our skill levels. I usually just have her call in what she wants and I pick it up on the way home. She thinks on the nights that Evan is there, though, that he should have home cooking. I finally had to tell her last night that the kid is better off with McDonald’s than smoke inhalation.” Looking down at his watch, Declan stood, saying, “Man, I got sidetracked, but I came by to tell you that Jason has called a meeting for ten this morning. He has his eye on another company that he is thinking of acquiring. We need to head out to the fifth-floor conference room.”
He followed his brother out on their way to the conference room, with Emma refusing to make eye contact, but Brant heard Declan chuckle under his breath when she called him Mr. Stone on the way out the door. He would take her to lunch today and explain as much as he could without breaking his promise to Alexia. He wished for a moment that they were still in Florida without the stress and interruptions of their everyday life. Things had been simpler then. How could a morning that had seemed so promising only hours ago have gotten off course so fast? Playing the love-struck boyfriend had been like second nature when they were together in Florida. A large part of him knew that it hadn’t been acting at all; it had been acceptance of what had always been between them.
Chapter Thirteen
Emma sagged back against her chair as Brant followed his brother out the door. She was extremely grateful to have a moment to herself. In her eagerness to see Brant, she had made it to work ten minutes early, knowing he would already be there. She had burst through the door of his office only to come to an abrupt standstill at the sight of him standing there with a beautiful woman wrapped in his arms. At first, she thought she must have been imagining it. In all the time she had worked for him, Brant had never had a woman in his office who wasn’t a business colleague. But something about the familiar way he held this woman had signaled something very different between them.
The woman had been friendly enough. There had been only curiosity in her gaze as she greeted Emma. Brant, though, had looked decidedly uncomfortable. Declan had walked in only minutes later, supplying the missing piece to the puzzle. This woman was Brant’s ex. The only question was his ex what? Girlfriend or wife? Had he been married before? She had never heard anything along those lines. Suddenly, though, her position in Brant’s life seemed very precarious. Was their time together in Florida truly just a weekend fling? She had always assumed that Brant didn’t have a life other than work, but now she knew that he had been involved and that the woman was very much in his life.
She realized there was only one thing you could do when you were in this much turmoil: Call the girls.
Emma walked from the elevator toward the lobby of the main floor of the Danvers building. She was relieved to be meeting her friends for lunch but depressed that Brant hadn’t returned before she left. Suzy, ever punctual, was the first to arrive. She embraced her, glad to have a moment alone with her before the others arrived. She pulled back, still holding Suzy’s hand while she asked, “How are you? I wanted to call and see how everything went for you with your . . . procedure, but I didn’t want to pry. So, yeah, now I’m obviously prying.”