by Lexi Blake
He was also honest about his father’s proclivities.
“Don’t make me look bad in front of the girl, Kenny,” his father said with a frown. “I’ll wait in Patty’s office. She should be here in a few moments. We need to talk about the art opening tonight.”
She grimaced. Yep, she’d forgotten about it. There was a showing of a local artist who was being featured on Patricia’s Paradise. They were filming for the show, but this was what Carly liked to call a “cuddly shoot,” meaning it was to show Patricia with her family and as angelic and loving as possible. Maybe she wouldn’t need her assistant there.
Maybe pigs would fly.
Kenneth walked off toward the office, his cane clacking against the floor, but Kenny stayed put. “You know at some point you should talk to Pat about how he treats you. Unless you would prefer I did it. I know she can be intimidating.”
Carly was fairly certain Patricia couldn’t care less that her octogenarian hubby felt free to sexually harass her on a regular basis. “It’s fine. I’m sure he doesn’t mean anything by it.”
Kenny frowned, his handsome mouth turning down. “I think you underestimate him and that’s a mistake. My father isn’t a good man. Don’t think for a second because he’s old, he’s frail. He uses that against a lot of people. I’m fairly certain his wife thought he’d be dead by now. I know when they were dating, he made a big deal out of how close to death he was.”
Carly couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “How very romantic.”
“Well, there’s not a lot of romance when there’s that much money on the line. I should know. After being married for my money twice, I’m the dumbass who’s always looking for number three. You would think after seeing how I grew up that I would prefer to be a bachelor.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve only done the marriage thing once and I’m with you.”
“He was a massive tool,” Kenny said, not unkindly. “Not all men would treat you like that. You’re the kind of woman who should be married. You would make someone an excellent wife. And I’m not simply talking about that egg thing you made in the kitchens the other day.”
“Patricia’s egg casserole?” It was going in a segment on best brunch recipes.
“Sure,” he said with an eye roll. “Naturally she put her own name on it. Some of the crew was tasting it and I got a bite. I swear I want to come over to this side of the company. I do love real estate, but we don’t get to eat all day like you guys.”
“We have some fun. Hey, our jobs are to make entertaining easy. We’re pretty good at it.”
“You’re pretty good at it.” He glanced toward the door to Patricia’s office. “Have you ever thought about doing your own thing? Everyone here knows you’re the brains behind Patricia’s Paradise. Have you ever thought about walking out of here and starting your own show?”
She dreamed about it, but there was the problem of leverage. Patricia had a ton of it. She would go ballistic if she thought Carly was going to become competition. “I’m not an on-camera personality.”
Kenny’s voice went low and he leaned over. “I disagree. I think you’re exactly what the world needs to counterpoint my dear stepmother’s chilly disdain for everyone. You’re warm and funny, and you explain things in a simple way that brings people in rather than making them feel left out. Think about it. Despite what my father thinks, he won’t live forever, and then I’ll take over the media end of the company. I could work with you.”
She would never get that shot. Patricia would see to it. “That’s flattering.”
He stood up again, his hands coming up as though conceding the issue for now. “Think about it. You’ve got plenty of time, but I would hate to see you waste your talents being my stepmother’s flunky for too long. Learn everything you can from her and then get the hell out, because she’ll turn on you in the end. It’s how our world works. Hey, I had a thought.”
She liked Kenny. He was a nice guy, it seemed. “What’s that?”
“How about you come with me tonight to the showing? I know you have to work, but we could also hang out. Two confirmed single people providing cover for one another. You could help keep the gold diggers off me. I would view it as a huge favor.”
“Are you that hard up, Kenny?” a frosty voice asked. Patricia stood in the doorway, her designer briefcase in hand. She focused on her stepson with a glacial glare. “I thought you were seeing that girl I set you up with.”
There was no way to miss how tense Kenny got. His whole body seemed to stiffen. “I don’t need you to set me up. And I definitely wouldn’t go out with a woman you approved of, Patty.”
“That’s why your marriages failed. You chose the wrong women. My secretary would be another horrible choice,” she said. “Not that you aren’t perfectly nice, Carly dear. You simply aren’t suited to be the wife of a powerful man. He needs someone who can move in our world, and you so often trip over your own two feet.”
“I have zero interest in moving any further into society.” She was still a little shocked Kenny had made the offer to escort her tonight. He was often friendly, but in the years they’d known each other, he’d never once made a move on her. Maybe she was overthinking it and he really was trying to use her to keep other women away, but it seemed so odd for him to ask.
“I think you would do quite well,” Kenny said. “You would be a refreshing change.”
“Carly knows her place,” Patricia replied. “It’s one of the reasons she’s such a good assistant. Why don’t you go and wait in my office with your father? I assume you’re here to discuss the event this evening.”
“Fine.” Kenny turned on his heels and strode away, every line of his body speaking to his anger.
Those two did not get along. The only reason they would be in the same room together was the company.
“Are the notes on tonight’s filming schedule on my desk?”
“Yes.” It was good to get back to focusing on work and not things she couldn’t have. Oh, she didn’t want Kenny. Not at all. Despite his handsomeness, she would never view him as more than a friend. There was no chemistry between them. Now that she knew what it really felt like, she could gauge her relationships properly. If the man didn’t make her melt into her shoes with a simple look, she likely didn’t need to worry about him. Since only one man seemed to have the ability to do that, she felt pretty confident she was safe. But the idea that she could have her own show, do her own thing? Yes, that was quite tempting. “The filming tonight is light. It won’t be more than a ten-minute segment and I’ve ensured everyone is coming so we can maintain a family vibe. Jasmine’s flight lands at three and I’ve got a car picking her up.”
The minute her stepdaughter’s name had been said, Patricia’s nose had turned up. “Who’s babysitting her? I don’t want her drunk at the filming. The last time the editors had to cut out some excellent footage because Jasmine was dancing on a table in the background. And could someone please ensure the girl wears undergarments this time?”
“She’s been assigned a bodyguard from the security firm. I’ve asked that he monitor her and give me a call if anything goes wrong. I’m actually hopeful he doesn’t check her panties.” Unlike Kenny, who headed the real estate division of his father’s empire, Jasmine was more involved in playing the jet-setting heiress. She’d just filed for divorce number four from some Euro pseudo-royal and was now back in full-on party-like-a-Kardashian mode.
“Yes, she has a habit of sleeping with whatever bodyguard we send. I thought an unattractive one would be safe, but she didn’t care. I also tried to send a female at one point. My stepdaughter doesn’t discriminate in her promiscuity. Ah, well.” Patricia turned but stopped, her eyes finding Carly again. “You would do well to stay away from my stepson. He’s not as nice as he seems. That’s simply his persona. And he wouldn’t actually marry you. That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t use you.”
“I’m not going to be dating Kenny anytime soon.” It was time to start laying the groundwork for their cover. She’d been talking about Bran around the office with her co-workers, but she hadn’t actually mentioned him to Patricia. “I’m actually seeing someone else. Someone new.”
A single brow arced over Patricia’s left eye. “You’re dating? I heard some rumor about that but I discounted it.”
She gave her boss a smile that wasn’t one hundred percent fake. Bran kind of made her smile. And blush. “Yes, I met him online.”
“That doesn’t seem like a good decision.”
“I don’t have a ton of time to meet people, so I went with a matchmaking site.” They’d talked about how to present themselves that first morning. They were going to keep it simple. She’d argued that they should have recently started dating while he’d pointed out if he was going to get an invite to the party in LA, it would be better if they’d been seeing each other for a while. “We met for coffee about six weeks ago and we’ve been seeing each other ever since.”
“When on earth do you have time to date?”
She didn’t. Not at all. The day she’d met Bran had been the first afternoon she’d had off in months. “Mostly late-night dinners. He’s a night owl.”
Patricia stared at her as though trying to assess how to handle the situation. “I rather thought you would be careful after your marriage. You know you deal with sensitive information about this business.”
“Bran isn’t interested in this business. He’s not Roger.” She had to keep telling herself that last part.
“He should have been properly vetted through our security team. All men are Rogers. Believe me, I know.” Patricia glanced over at the glass doors that separated her suite of offices from the rest of the building. “Though some of them have their uses. Is that the new delivery boy? I haven’t ordered lunch yet.”
Carly followed her gaze and felt her eyes widen. What the hell? This was not what they’d planned. Bran was standing there with a bag in his hand. He was smiling down at the receptionist, who pointed their way. His head turned and he caught sight of her. His smile went from friendly down to hot and sensual as he began to make his way toward them.
“I ordered soup for you. Lemongrass, no salt. Your dress this evening will fit perfectly,” Carly explained, standing. “I can get something else if you prefer, but it’s what you normally eat for lunch before you go on camera. And he’s not the delivery boy.”
For the first and only time Carly could remember, Patricia looked surprised. Oh, on her overly Botoxed face it didn’t register as much of an expression, but it was definitely there. “Is that the new boyfriend?”
Carly smoothed down her skirt. “Yes, though he could have called. I’m sorry. I’ll tell him we don’t normally accept visitors.”
Patricia set her briefcase down, looking over Bran. “Not at all, dear. Visitors can be fun. I have to say, he isn’t what I expected. That is a lovely young man.”
He certainly was. He was stupidly gorgeous in jeans and a T-shirt and boots. With his pitch black hair and emerald eyes, he could have walked off the cover of a magazine. He opened the door and his eyes widened briefly when he recognized who was standing in the room with her.
Don’t give it away. Just for the briefest of seconds, she was worried Bran would walk right up to Patricia and accuse her. He truly believed Patricia had killed his parents. For a second, she wondered if he hadn’t been looking for justice at all, if he’d merely gotten close so he could have revenge.
And then the look was gone as though it had never been there at all. He looked back at Carly and smiled again. “Hey, I was in the neighborhood. I thought you might like some lunch. You said you usually eat at your desk.”
“I do. Um, thanks.” She was well aware of how awkward she sounded. Not at all like a woman who was used to seeing a man on a regular basis. She could blow this before they even got out of the gate. “Thanks so much. It’s nice to see you, Bran.”
Patricia cleared her throat, a subtle request for acknowledgment.
“Oh, this is Bran. Brandon Lowe. He’s the man I was telling you about,” she offered. “Bran, this is my boss, Patricia Cain.”
Bran set the bag on her desk and held out a hand. “It’s an honor to meet you. My mother is a huge fan. She never misses a show.”
Patricia gave him her most gracious smile. “That’s so nice. Well, if you’re dating my Carly, we’ll have to ensure your mother gets some autographed books or some swag. We can find some of that for a fan, can’t we?”
What the hell? Patricia hated fans. She typically threw people out who asked for autographs at her office. Oh, she would smile and be gracious at an event, but she hated to be disrupted when the cameras weren’t rolling. She certainly didn’t offer to pass out swag to someone’s mother. Carly managed to smile. “Of course. I’ll put together a bag for her.”
Bran shook Patricia’s hand. “That’s so kind of you. I was telling Carly how lucky she is to work at a place like this.”
“And what do you do, Mr. Lowe?” Patricia stepped back, but she was still smiling.
“I’m pure muscle,” he said with a grin. “I work with a company called McKay-Taggart. I’m in their personal security division. Right now, I’m out here for a couple of months working security for a writer. Apparently he pissed off a fan or something. No idea. It’s historical stuff. I’m just around to take a bullet. Or maybe an arrow. Not sure.”
This was their cover. Someone at McKay-Taggart was connected to a bunch of writers, one of whom lived in the St. Augustine area and wrote thrillers. He’d agreed to serve as Bran’s cover employer in exchange for research. Writers, it turned out, would do a lot in the name of research.
Patricia laughed. “That sounds perfectly dreadful, though I do understand the need for a bodyguard from time to time.”
“I spend a lot of time in bookstores right now. I’ve got a couple of days off, though. He’s on a hard deadline and not doing any publicity.” He winked Carly’s way. “I was hoping to spend some time with that one.”
Patricia glanced back as though remembering Carly existed. “Of course. Carly, why don’t you show your friend around? I’ll be in a meeting for at least an hour or two. If I need something, I’ll text you.”
“Really?” She was supposed to be at the grande dame’s beck and call anytime the woman was in the office, and that meant sitting in on meetings so she could get people tea or coffee.
Patricia looked back at Bran, a faint smile on her lips. “Of course. I’m not a monster. You should take a nice long lunch. We’ll have to work a bit tonight. Have you thought about bringing your friend to our little art show? Do you enjoy art, Bran?”
He had the most glowing smile. “I don’t know much about it, Ms. Cain, but I do enjoy a party, and I know if you’re in charge it’s going to be an amazing one.”
The woman actually blushed. “Well, then you should definitely come. I’ll make sure there’s an invitation waiting for you.”
Bran nodded. “Thank you so much. Any excuse to spend some time with my girl.”
The smile that lit Patricia’s face dimmed a bit. “Of course. I’ll expect you back in, say, an hour and a half, Carly. Brandon, it was lovely to meet you. You remind me of someone I knew. A long time ago.”
Bran frowned. “Hopefully it was someone you liked.”
“Yes,” she said quietly, her eyes looking him up and down before she turned away. “Someone I liked quite a bit.”
She walked away, her heels never making a sound against the hardwood.
Had Patricia-freaking-Cain hit on her boyfriend? Maybe there was some Alabama redneck still left in her, because she kind of wanted to throw down right now.
Bran’s hand found hers, tangling their fingers together. “Let’s go someplace quiet and have some lunch.”
He sque
ezed her hand as though reminding her that they were in this together.
As partners. Not as boyfriend and girlfriend. This wasn’t some grand romance and she didn’t need to protect her man. He wasn’t her man. As far as she knew, he might want Patricia’s attention. It might make it easier for him to get what he needed if he was sleeping with the boss.
Was that why he’d really gotten close to her? Had she been a stepping-stone to the place he’d wanted to be?
That was when she realized he wasn’t squeezing her hand. His hand was shaking.
She turned to him, moving close and taking his free hand in hers so she held them both. He hadn’t enjoyed the attention. It had made him sick and scared and he needed her.
His face was perfectly blank, but he’d been shaken and she needed to do something to bring him back. He’d let her cry the first night they’d met. He’d held her then and eased her fears. He’d slept on her couch and dealt with the security stuff.
What could she do for him? She couldn’t say anything, couldn’t verbally give him any comfort while they were standing in her office. She could rush him out, but she needed him to know she was here with him.
“Kiss me.”
He stared down at her, his eyes focusing for the first time since Patricia had walked away. “What?”
Yes, now she had his attention again. And it wasn’t only his. Patricia had stopped at her door. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her boss standing there with one elegantly manicured hand on the door. She was watching and Carly needed her to understand something.
“Kiss me,” she whispered. “I’m so happy to see you. I need you to kiss me. I missed you.”
His eyes flared and his lips curled up, and she was utterly mesmerized by the way he lit up. His hands moved from holding her own to coming up to her face, where his fingertips skimmed along her jawline before cradling her cheeks. He was gentle, but she could feel the strength in those hands.
His mouth descended and she expected a brushing of his lips over hers. There it was. A soft meeting of their lips. It was nice. She was about to pull away when his hands tightened ever so slightly and his mouth demanded more.
