“I guess I won’t be wearing these heels much longer. My feet are starting to swell.”
“Yeah, I had a lot of swelling when I was pregnant.”
“I could probably use some baby advice.” Her hand dropped down to rub the small bump on her belly. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee sometime?”
“Uhmm…” Steph swallowed, but her mouth was dry. “Sure, I guess.”
“I’ll call you.”
The door clicked shut behind her. Steph sat frozen in shock, feeling like she was in a weird dream.
“Shut up, MawMaw. I know you’re up there laughing at me.”
“Are you sure you want me down there in the meeting?” Stephanie wished she’d worn an antiperspirant instead of just a deodorant. When Bran told her to dress up for a big date after the Escapades board meeting, she hadn’t worried how she would look. She’d put on the nicest dress she owned—the white one she’d worn in Las Vegas—and taken extra care with her hair and makeup.
Maybe tonight’s the big night. Maybe he’ll tell me he’s got the prenuptial agreement ready, and we can be married for real. A prenup might not sound romantic to most people, but to her, it was better than a diamond ring.
“Yes, I’m sure.” Branson swept his hand forward and waited for her to step onto the private elevator before joining her and pushing the button for the third floor conference room.
“But I feel so self-conscious. You’ll look like all the other men, wearing a coat and tie, but none of the other women will have on evening gowns. Why can’t I take notes from next door, like I always do?” She’d transcribed the proceedings of countless board meetings, while watching the broadcast from the adjacent room.
“I need you to be my eyes today. I want you to tell me which board members are against me. And anyway, you’re the reason we’re here. You’re the one who did all the background research on every board member and followed all the leads. Why should you have to hide in the side room as if you were an ordinary personal assistant? You’re so much more than that. You helped me build Escapades from the ground up.”
How could she explain it? It’s not enough that you’re proud of how well I do my job… I want you to be proud that I’m your wife. Aloud, she said, “I just wish you would’ve warned me, so I wouldn’t have worn this dress.”
He lifted her left hand and kissed the backs of her fingers, empty of any identifying rings. “I’ve been told you look stunning in that dress, and it so happens I want to show you off today.”
“How can you show me off? No one even knows we’re together.” She tried to keep her resentment from showing.
He groped the elevator panel, pushed a button, and the elevator jerked to a stop.
“What’s wrong, Steph? Am I in trouble for something?”
Darn him for looking so sweet and concerned. She felt petty for being upset.
“No, it’s nothing.”
“Seems like it might be something, instead of nothing. If we’re going to make this relationship work, you have to talk to me.” He ducked his head away. “I try to get your cues, but I guess I’m not very good at it.”
I’m a jerk.Of course it’s hard for him to understand when something upsets me, without any visual cues.
“I’m sorry, Bran. I didn’t want to say anything, because… well… because I didn’t want you to feel rushed. Or I thought maybe you changed your mind.”
His eyebrows knitted together. “Changed my mind about what?”
“About being married. We’ve been secretly married for weeks, now. The only reason I can think that you haven’t told people by now is you’ve changed your mind.”
He held her shoulders the way he always did when he wanted to be certain he faced her. “Haven’t I told you I love you, every day? Haven’t I said I’m the luckiest man in the world to have you as my wife? Don’t I come every night to help you give Ellie her breathing treatment?” The muscles worked in his throat. “Can you not tell how I feel about you when we make love?”
So much for my great makeup job. She dabbed at her wet face with her hand, determined to keep mascara tears from dripping on her white dress.
“Sure, when we’re alone together, it seems like everything is perfect. But I don’t understand why we can’t tell people.” She sniffed, long and hard, making a horrible sound that probably grossed him out. No, he’s already heard me throw up.
He opened his arms, and she fell against him. His hand traced her spine in soothing strokes. “I’m sorry, Steph. I’m so sorry. I’m not good at this. I thought I was protecting you by not telling you.”
“What? What haven’t you told me?”
“That I don’t trust my father.” He squeezed her so tight she could barely breathe. “Right now he’s angry, and from what Carina told me, he’s more ruthless than I’ve ever seen him. He seems determined to destroy me, and I’m afraid that might apply to anything or anyone who’s important to me. I didn’t want to take the chance that he might hurt you.”
“I can’t live like this, Branson. I can’t keep pretending you’re nothing but my boss, and then sneaking around with you every night. When is it going to stop?”
“A week or two, at most. I need to take care of this thing with my father. I’m counting on Bernstein. He said Dad’s going to crash the board meeting this afternoon. That’s why I need you in there with me.”
“What if your plan doesn’t work?”
“It’ll work. It has to.”
Dread settled in her stomach, knowing all the things that could go wrong. Bran was the type that wanted his life in perfect order. He might not be able to commit to her as long as his father remained a threat. She shoved that thought to the back of her mind. What else could be holding him back? “Did you finish the prenuptial agreement?”
“What prenuptial agreement?” He furrowed his brows even deeper. Then his eyes flew open wide. “Oh, right… the prenup… our prenup. Yes. Yes, it’s done. I haven’t had time to look over it, but Phillip took care of it. Technically, it’s not a prenuptial agreement, since we’re already married.”
His forced chuckle didn’t fool her for a minute. He was lying to her—she could sense it deep inside. She couldn’t put her finger on which part was untrue, but she knew he was covering something up. It felt like the beginning of the end. This might be their last night together.
“We’re going to be late for the meeting.” Teetering on the edge of control, she reached around him to start the elevator, barely able to see the numbers through her tears. If his beautiful blue eyes could actually see, he would’ve known she was holding herself together with masking tape and paper clips. But he had no idea, and she was glad he didn’t. He didn’t need any distractions during this meeting. If it was the last thing she ever did for him—and it just might be—she would help him beat his father at his own game.
The boardroom fell silent when they entered. Though some eyebrows raised at her atypical dress, something in Bran’s authoritative aura commanded their attention. Eighteen sets of eyes fixed on Branson’s sightless ones as he moved to the head of the long table. She felt a warm glow of pride in him, despite her hurt. Settling into the empty chair beside him, she opened her laptop and attempted to shrink until she was invisible.
