“Yes,” Finn said.
“Nothing important,” Laurie added. “All week you told me Branson was better off without you there. You said he had a lot of decisions to make, and he needed to make them without you. You told me if you were there, he would just feel guilty, and he might make the wrong choice.”
“Yes, but—”
“If you hadn’t convinced me this was the right thing to do, I never would’ve let you drive us all the way to New York City.”
Stephanie groaned. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care what happens to him.”
“You can’t fix this,” Laurie said with a note of finality. “There’s nothing you could do, even if you were there.”
“What happened?” Her mouth went dry.
“I’ll tell you.” Finn stepped in front of Laurie. “He found out he’s not the father of Carina’s baby.”
Steph almost clapped her hands for joy, but something in Finn’s eyes told her there was more. “And?” she asked, holding her breath.
“The baby’s father is Bran’s dad.”
Steph slapped both hands over her mouth and moaned, “No. Oh, poor Bran.” Before she realized what she was doing, she was on her feet, hobbling down the hall to find her purse. “I need my keys. Laurie, you stay here with Ellie, I’ll be back as soon as I can. Better pray that hunk of metal doesn’t break down on the drive.”
“No, no, no, no, no.” Laurie blocked the way, grasping both her arms. “Be sensible about this. You can’t go back there. You made a decision, and you have to stick to it. Anyway, you’re in no condition to drive, right now. You’re exhausted. You’d fall asleep on the highway and kill yourself. And probably kill someone else, too.”
“You can go with me. I’m flying out in the morning.” Finn wore a smug grin that seemed to irritate Laurie.
“Finn… you weasel! I’m not letting her go. Not unless you promise you’re bringing her back with you. I can’t handle moving three times in two weeks.” As her hands flailed about, she scanned the room. Then she dashed off and returned, holding out a magazine. “Swear on this. Swear you’ll bring her back. Right now. Do it.”
“On a Good Housekeeping magazine?” His mouth curled with merriment.
“You’re going to have to pretend it’s a Bible.”
Her eyes narrowed to dark slits, and Finn’s face sobered. He laid his left palm on the magazine and lifted his right hand. “I do solemnly swear, when this short trip is concluded, I will reunite Stephanie with her family, forthwith. How’s that?”
Laurie threw the magazine into the air, spun on one foot, and flounced down the hallway, calling, “I know you’re up to something, Finn Anderson. You better not double cross me.”
“I take that as more of a challenge than a threat,” Finn quipped, his laughter following after her.
Steph put a hand on his arm. “Tell me the truth… How’s he doing? I know how he feels about his father. I’m sure this is killing him.”
“No. You killed him, Stephanie. You killed him when you left him. You took the air right out of his lungs.”
“That’s not fair. I left him so he could do what’s best for him without worrying about me.”
“Stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Finn’s eyes rolled to the ceiling. “He loves you. What could possibly be best for him without you in it?”
She rubbed her temples, trying to relieve the throbbing behind her eyes. “I’m too tired to argue about this. My head hurts. My foot hurts. And I haven’t slept in a week. So listen to me… I’m going with you tomorrow because Branson needs me right now. But you have to keep your promise and bring me back here.”
“I promised no such thing. I vowed to reunite you with your family. If I’m not mistaken,” Finn said, with a wink, “that would include your husband.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Are you going to lie in bed all day, Mr. Knight?” Fordham’s voice could hardly be heard over the blaring bagpipe and drum corps music he’d apparently chosen as Branson’s wakeup call.
“It’s ten a.m., Fordham,” Branson shouted, pulling a pillow over his ears. “That hardly qualifies as ‘all day.’”
The volume dropped a few notches. “You have a point. Yet, I feel compelled to bother you, like a proverbial burr in your saddle, until you stop wallowing in self-pity.”
“Leave me alone. I like wallowing.”
“It’s more than five hours past your normal wakening time. I believe that’s sufficient time to consider all the ways life has dealt you a raw deal. It’s time to rise and play the game, Mr. Knight, while you still have opportunity to win.”
“I’m afraid my father has flopped the nuts,” said Branson, hoping to throw him off with unfamiliar jargon.
“You believe your dad has drawn an unbeatable hand?” Fordham responded without hesitation. “How can you say that when so many parts of his plan have failed? He didn’t manage to purchase enough shares of Escapade Resorts to attain voting control or pull off a hostile takeover. Nor did he acquire the needed shares through Carina. You have broken the relationship with both Carina and Mark Johnson, both of whom, we presume, have provided your father with inside information.”
“Yes, but he fathered a child with Carina. That’s enough. A slap in the face. He succeeded in the place where it hurts me most.”
“You are piteous indeed if you cannot see where that plan has not only failed to achieve its purpose, but also saved you from marital disaster.” The music quieted, and Fordham continued. “Had Carina not pushed you toward a rapid matrimony, you might have continued with your original plan to marry her in exchange for controlling stock shares in Parker-Aston—a foolish scheme which you conjured without any help whatsoever from your father.”
“It would never have happened.” Bran sat up in bed and threw his feet over the side. “Not after I realized—” He stopped in mid-sentence, before accidentally revealing too much. Only Finn knew the truth about Stephanie.
“I assume you were about to say something regarding Ms. Caldwell. Am I correct?”
“Fordham, sometimes it’s creepy when you read my mind like that.”
“I’m no mind-reader, Mr. Knight. The entire staff is well-aware of your foul mood, which has risen in direct correlation with the length of time since Stephanie resigned as your personal assistant.”
“She’ll be difficult to replace,” Branson muttered, as he trudged into his closet to find his clothes.
