Private Scandal (2 page)

His hand came down on the paper with a slap. “If you don’t want to explain what you’re playing at, you can still listen to what I have to say.”

Her shoulders tensed, but she refused to look up at him. Let him talk, let him leave. She needed him to go as much as she needed to find another job. Probably more. Because with him here, making the small room seem impossibly tiny with his larger-than-life presence, she had to think of just how far she’d fallen. She’d do anything not to have to analyze that. It was one of the reasons she needed to work so much. That, and she had an affinity for eating.

It was hard to imagine she used to think the perfect way to end a night of clubbing with her so-called friends was to find her way to his penthouse. Harder still to imagine her life free of worry and fear.

Until she’d seen the look of shock and pity on Brandon’s face, she’d been proud of all she’d accomplished. There was a satisfaction that came from independence and hard work that she’d never imagined. She’d come so far, and yet seeing Brandon reminded her of how far she’d fallen, how she might never get back to the safety and security she’d known.

The life of leisure and privilege was over, the last chapter a tragic ending written by Brandon when he’d taken Carlton Hotels from her family. Everything was auctioned and it still wasn’t enough for the creditors. What more could Brandon want from her? Her very soul?

Megan wouldn’t let him see her afraid. He’d caught her off-guard at the coffee shop, that was all. He’d stared at her across the counter with his bitter-chocolate eyes, derision in his voice when he asked what she was doing serving people coffee, and she’d snapped. She’d been reacting to him ever since.

Megan squared her shoulders and pulled in a deep breath. She was a Carlton, and though her father may have betrayed the responsibility of the name, she still believed in it. It was all she had left. Being a Carlton might not be worth much on the open market, but it meant she knew the best defense was a good offence. And she knew exactly how to play Brandon Knight.

After all, she’d been doing it for the better part of a decade.

She tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder and looked up at him, hoping her ice-blue eyes would work their magic. However, he seemed to be studying her like she’d grown an extra head. She started unbuttoning her coat, keeping her gaze on his face.

“You don’t really want to talk, do you Brandon?”

He blinked as she slid the coat off her shoulders and set it on the counter. “I don’t know where to begin.”

“You, speechless? Never.” She straightened her posture, grinning when the movement caused him to drop his gaze to the deep vee of her tight T-shirt. She’d learned quickly the more cleavage she showed, the more tips she’d find in the jar at the end of her shift.

“I want to know what you think you’re doing. It’s one thing to have a quarter-life crisis, but this is a bit extreme. I know what your father did was a shock—”

“It didn’t surprise me half as much as you think. I knew he was a snake.” She grinned, and he rewarded her efforts with a frown. Obviously he’d tired of her charms, but she’d known that, suffered that blow when she could least afford it.

“You knew he was embezzling from Carlton International?”

“I knew he was supporting more people than he could have on what he earned. Mistresses are quite expensive, as you know.” Her throat tightened and she clenched her jaw to keep it from trembling.

“Then what are you doing? If you aren’t upset about how he disappeared with millions of other people’s money, why are you hiding out?”

“I’m not hiding.”

“Megan, everyone thinks you’re with your parents wherever it is they escaped to. And I find you making coffee and living like this?” He waved his hand through the air, forcing her to take another look at her sad apartment.

“Funny, isn’t it? All those fundraisers I helped with for the Carlton Houses and they were full when I needed them.” She shrugged. “It’s amazing how few jobs there are for people who didn’t bother to graduate high school.”

“But you went to Beverly Prep.” He rubbed at the back of his neck.

“And my mother needed an interpreter for her European vacation the spring of my senior year. I wasn’t going to volunteer to go back.” Megan pasted on her brightest smile. “It’s fine. I got my GED last week. Maybe now I’ll qualify to answer phones.”

“But you speak three languages.”

“So do the French and Germans. Now if I’d bothered to learn Spanish, I might have a bright future in telemarketing.”

He ran his hand through his cropped dark brown hair. “That doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“Have you ever tried to get an apartment with no money, no job and no credit history? This was the best I could do.”

“Please, Megan. Your trust fund—”

“Is probably what Daddy dearest is using to pay for his life on some island with no extradition agreement.” The truth hung heavy between them. She hadn’t meant to tell him, but she didn’t have the energy to lie. She couldn’t understand why her father would need to steal from his children if he’d taken all the money the newspapers claimed, but there were a lot of things about the situation she couldn’t wrap her head around.

Brandon looked about the room. “Is this all you have?”

“I have what I need. Well, except for a day job.”

He quirked a brow. “You have a night job?”

“The Blue Parrot. It’s karaoke tonight. Will I see you there too?”

Brandon closed his eyes, his broad chest rising and falling with a deep breath. He opened his eyes, his dark gaze colliding with hers. “Get your things. You can stay with me.”

“No, I can’t.” She’d rather die in Pasadena than have to listen to him having sex with Gemma Ryan down the hall. Besides, when she’d sold her things she’d vowed never to depend on anyone again.

“I can’t let you stay here.” The air in the small apartment sagged with tension.

“I don’t see how what I do is any of your business.” Part of her screamed to go with him, to find a safe and clean place where she wouldn’t be scared and lonely. She wanted so desperately to escape what her life had become, but at least now it was of her own making.

“It’s ridiculous for you to be here.”

“No, it’s ridiculous for
you
to be here, pretending that it matters to you. You got what you wanted from the Carltons. You’ll excuse me if I don’t offer my congratulations on your accomplishments.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you need help packing?”

And to think she used to find his confidence attractive. Hell, she still did. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m never sleeping with you again. You can take that to the bank. It’s much more secure than any investment you’ve ever made.”

“Did I ask you?” His gaze bore holes in what was left of her bravado. “If you don’t want to come home with me, I’ll put you up in a hotel until we figure this out. If you want a job, I’m sure I can find something that makes better use of your talents.”

If his gaze hadn’t slid down her body at the words, she might have believed his altruistic intentions. But she knew Brandon, knew his insatiable desires better than anyone. She’d relished it when it was on her terms, but to be beholden to him? Being with him lost all appeal in the light of what he’d done, who he’d turned her into. Not to mention the piece of trash currently keeping his sheets warm.

“I’m not sleeping with you, not living with you, not working for you. In fact, I’d prefer not to breathe the same air. With you around everything has the stink of betrayal.”

“This is how you want it?”

Not at all, but she didn’t see any other option. She nodded.

He stepped closer, until she couldn’t move without touching him. “Be careful what you wish for.”

His words echoed back in time, the scene unfolding in her mind of when he’d said that to her all those years ago. She’d flirted with him shamelessly. He was everything she’d thought she wanted, even though she knew he was more than she could handle. He’d refused her every advance, until she returned from Europe. She couldn’t hide the shiver that ran down her spine at the memory.

Brandon lifted her chin with his fingers and brushed his lips across hers. Megan froze, her heart pounding a primal beat in her chest. A surge of heat coursed through her body and she pulled in a breath to cool the desire. It didn’t work. It never did. Somehow, through the hazy memory of all she’d lost, she pulled away.

She gazed up at him, wishing she could hate him. “I slept with you because you were my friend. You most certainly are not my friend, so you aren’t entitled to those kinds of benefits anymore.”

“For the record, Meg, I have wanted more from you for a while now. I’m done sneaking around and playing games. Next time you’re in my bed—and believe me, there will be a next time—you won’t be leaving.”

Brandon stopped dead at the bottom of the stairs. A bus, like the one Megan had arrived home on moments before, rumbled past. When it was gone he saw the stark difference in the way he and Megan now travelled.

His vintage Corvette, her city bus.

How had he let this happen? He’d been so sure the Carlton deal would tilt everything in his favor, but somehow it threw his plans wildly off track. For a man unaccustomed to making mistakes, it really set him off balance.

He sat down on the cold steps and pulled out his phone, speed dial connecting him almost immediately.

“Was she there?” Humor laced Danny Reid’s voice.

“That she was. You any closer to figuring out why?” Computer keys clicked in the background. It seemed Danny’s knack for uncovering corporate secrets played well in the personal realm. What hadn’t they taught the man in Special Ops?

“She’s been in Pasadena for months. When the receiver stepped in to liquidate the assets Carlton left, Megan went to a hotel with her sisters. They stayed until the hotel management realized their credit cards had been frozen. They left, but the bill wasn’t paid until last month, in cash. They all kept things pretty quiet.”

“Which is why everyone assumes they joined their parents.” He plucked at the stain on the front of his shirt. Why hadn’t she come straight to him?

She’d been finding her way to him for longer than he cared to think about. No one knew about it. She’d been adamant about that. It was a fun arrangement when he was younger, but when he turned thirty last year he’d told her he needed more. She’d been steadily ignoring that fact ever since, though she did accept the key card to his penthouse, still had plenty of clothes there. If he hadn’t been so busy, he would have pushed the issue and they would have been married before the Carlton deal went public.

“Megan and Briana haven’t been in contact with anyone. Most people know Ava is shacked-up with Sullivan, the computer genius with that IPO you made a mint on?”

“I know who he is.” Brandon wondered why Ava had let her sister live in a place like this if she was with Jack Sullivan. Every time he found a missing piece, he realized the puzzle was bigger than he expected. “And Briana?”

“She’s in Oregon living with an aunt and interning at a hotel up there. Megan is the one hiding. If she wasn’t in on it, she’s sure acting like she has something to hide.”

Yeah, like embarrassment. If Carlton had cashed in one trust fund, he likely liquidated them all.

None of it explained why Megan was so hell bent on not accepting help from anyone. He begrudged the admiration he felt for how she’d picked herself up. She was being stubborn to the point of ridiculous, but a part of him understood. Even if his bank account flatlined, he’d have options an education and experience provided.

Why hadn’t he realized she never graduated? His chest tightened. Because he’d been too damned excited when she’d returned from Europe to have realized there was no graduation party.

Brandon tugged on his earlobe and straightened his posture. The past didn’t matter. He needed to focus on keeping Megan safe.

Across the street a pair of unruly looking teens made their second pass past his Corvette. His gut knotted. He could buy a dozen sports cars, but if anything happened to Megan he’d never forgive himself.

“Danny, Megan’s not hiding anything.” It wouldn’t fit in the room she called an apartment.

“She’s paying cash for everything. Nothing is traceable. If she’s not hiding, why else would she go off the grid?”

He opened his mouth to explain exactly how he knew Megan wouldn’t be here if she had any other options, but he couldn’t. His knowledge of her affinity for expensive sheets and sleeping late wasn’t public. More than that, he knew her, knew her rigid sense of fairness that extended from domestic abuse to equal time with the remote control. He knew by looking into her eyes that this wasn’t the childish snit he’d first thought, but a true act of bleak desperation.

What he didn’t know was why.

Following her home before he had all the facts wasn’t his smartest move, and neither was sitting on her stairway, wondering how someone so vibrant and alluring could be in a place so dull and depressing. He’d built his success by knowing more than his competition, by paying attention to details others overlooked. And yet where Megan was concerned, he’d always been blind.

In the last seven years he’s spent more nights with her than without. It had been an absolutely ideal situation, one most of his friends would trade anything for. A beautiful, intelligent woman in his private life who wanted nothing to do with the public trappings of his work. He hadn’t realized just how good he’d had it until Megan disappeared.

Danny’s laugh broke into his thoughts. “Okay, so you obviously have no idea what her motivation is. But this isn’t your problem, man. She’s Carlton’s daughter, not yours. And while she might have chosen the seedier side of Pasadena, she has a job and a place to stay and an obvious dislike of you. So why don’t you get off the guilt train and get back to work?”

His chest grew tight at the truth of his friend’s words. Megan was all kinds of angry and not in any mood to change her disposition. “I need you to run a check on her financials, hers and her sisters. The girls’ trust funds weren’t accessible in the receivership, but she’s claiming her father tapped them before he disappeared.”