“Well done.” Stephanie murmured encouragement in his ear.
He settled beside Carina and reached over to hold her hand, receiving an affectionate squeeze in return. “You smell nice today. What perfume are you wearing?”
“Monet.” She practically purred. “It’s your favorite. Remember? From L’eau du Paris?”
So Stephanie had been correct. Her twenty-second counseling might’ve saved his relationship with Carina. It also confirmed what he’d told Finn. Stephanie had no romantic feelings toward him. She was simply a loyal employee, doing her job.
CHAPTER 8
Stephanie thought Branson seemed more relaxed as lunch progressed. He’d certainly taken her advice to heart, dousing Carina with affection and hanging on every word she said. Perhaps Steph’s counsel had been too effective. The green monster of jealousy was clawing at her insides.
She slipped her hand in the outside pocket of her purse to turn off the transmitter. No need for it in the quiet booth in the rear of the restaurant. Besides, Bran didn’t appear anxious at all. Fumbling for the transmitter controls, she fought against a sudden bout of stress. Without a sense of purpose, and isolated at the end of the booth, she felt awkward and out of her element. Why did I come? I don’t belong with these people.
“Whatcha got there?” Finn’s voice made her jump out of her seat.
“Nothing.” Her hands trembled as she tucked her purse to her side.
Finn’s eyes narrowed and his hand gripped her arm. He bent close and murmured in her ear. “I’m disappointed, Stephanie. I like you, but I can’t let you get away with spying on one of my closest friends.”
“I’m not a spy,” she whispered, frantic to make him understand. “I would never do that to Branson.”
“Then why do you have a recording device in your purse? You can’t lie to me. I saw you turn it on when you came out of the hotel room.”
“Keep your voice down,” Steph begged in a desperate whisper. “Follow me to the restrooms, and I’ll explain.” She scooted out of the booth with a remark about freshening up, but the others didn’t even pause their conversation.
Finn caught up with her as she rounded the corner. “Okay, I’m listening. You’ve got sixty seconds to explain.”
“It’s not a recorder. It’s a transmitter.” Steph spread open her purse pocket to expose the device. “Bran has a receiver in his ear. The microphone is right here.” She used her finger to point at the mic, hidden discretely in the folds of her scarf. “But no one knows. Please don’t say anything.”
Finn’s eyes widened, and he rested his shoulder against the wall. “A microphone? You don’t say. What for?”
“So he can hear my voice over the crowd. To keep him calm when the noise makes him crazy.”
“Hmm.” Finn tilted his head. “Branson’s idea?”
“No. Mine. Someone had to look out for him.” She glared at Finn as adrenaline shot through her system, turning her anxiety into fury. She tapped her finger against his chest. “You.”
“What?” He staggered back a step and lifted his palms toward her.
“You’re supposed to be his best friend, but you pushed him to make this trip. It’s way beyond his comfort zone, and you know it. You should’ve started with a ski vacation or rock climbing—something outside and physical. Instead, you bring him to a place where a thousand people are talking at once and a million bells are ringing from every direction. Don’t you know how awful that is for a blind person?”
Finn had the good grace to grimace with shame. “We didn’t force him to come. He could’ve said no.”
“Not if he wanted to keep his pride with the only people he cares about in the world. You gave him no choice but to come. I’m only trying to keep him from having a panic attack. If that happens, he’ll probably go back and hole up inside his mansion and brick the doors closed.”
“I think I understand.” Finn’s mouth widened in a slow grin, as if her whole lecture was a comedy routine.
“I don’t think you do,” she retorted, hands on hips. “If you understood, you’d be shaking in your boots and watching your back. Because if this trip goes badly and you screw him up for the rest of his life, you’re going to answer to me.”
Stephanie avoided Finn as much as possible for the rest of lunch, claiming to feel a draft and persuading Cole to trade places with her. She didn’t join in the conversation on the way to the matinee show, keeping to herself in the front corner of the stretch limo. While Carina prattled on about the upcoming concert with Bran’s rapt attention, the other three put their heads together and conspired, with frequent glances toward Steph. At the concert, Jarrett spoiled her plan to sit by herself on the end of the row.
“Hello, Stephanie.” He slipped into her spot so quickly she almost sat in his lap. He patted the seat beside him. “We haven’t had much time to get to know each other.”
“That’s not going to work, Jarrett.”
“Why not? Is it because I have a limp?” His deep brown eyes twinkled with humor.
“I don’t know what Finn said about me, but I’m basically done with all three of you.”
“Won’t Carina be suspicious? You’re supposed to be Finn’s date.”
“She didn’t think I was good enough for Finn, anyway. As long as I stay away from her man, she won’t care.” Stephanie made a grand show of opening her playbill and studying the inside, though the words didn’t register in her brain.
“If it makes any difference, I wanted to take Bran skiing, instead.”
She glanced from the corner of her eye, without turning her head. “Why didn’t you?”
His shoulders shrugged. “I got outvoted. Slopes are always crowded in March. Spring Break, you know? Then Finn got wind of this charity event, and the rest is history.”
“I think it’s a bad idea,” she insisted, pushing her jaw so far forward it ached.
“I promise it won’t be that bad inside the casino. Finn told me about your cool microphone setup to help Bran with the jitters. But there’s something you don’t know about Bran.”
“What?” Steph eyed him with suspicion. After spending almost every day with Branson Knight for the past two years, she’d wager it was actually the other way around.
