“Fordham’s voice is in mine.” He put the stress ball back in its proper place.
“A good voice to have.”
His fingers itched to touch her face. To know the shape of her nose, the line of her jaw, the slope of her forehead, the contour of her eyelids, the softness of her lips. He wanted to know her form as he knew her soul, to see her the only way he could. He pushed the yearning back inside, where it belonged.
From that point on he had wanted not only Stephanie’s presence, but her approval, though he knew it was based on pity. He craved it, like an addict. And he would take it any way he could get it.
Irritated at his lack of concentration, Bran increased the speed on the treadmill until his only thought was finding the strength to land one foot in front of the other. On and on he pounded, unrelenting, sweat dripping from his body. At last, a beep sounded to indicate he’d reached his ten-mile goal, and the machine gradually slowed to walking pace.
He followed with a round of one-handed pushups, once again proving to himself he was in complete control of his body. And his life.
Bran sat alone at the breakfast table. Hearing occasional laughter rising from within the kitchen, Bran grew more irritated. He pushed his food around on his plate and took a few bites, finding his customary steel-cut oatmeal with a side of fruit and Greek yogurt to be tasteless.
When the laughter broke out once again, he recognized one of the voices. Finn. In an instant, Bran was out of his chair and striding to the kitchen door to jerk it open.
Stunned silence greeted him. Then Finn’s guffaw echoed in the tiled room, and Bran recognized the answering chuckles of his other two friends.
“Good morning, Mr. Knight. Have you ever had these homemade cinnamon rolls?” Finn spoke in a garbled voice. “They’re unbelievable. I might steal Mindy away from you.”
As Mindy mumbled an embarrassed protest, Bran made a mental note to make certain she got a raise, though he knew Finn was teasing him.
“Didn’t your mother teach you not to talk with your mouth full?” Branson didn’t bother to state the obvious fact that he’d refrained from eating anything with processed sugar in it since the age of sixteen.
“Yes, she did. But Mum’s not here. And I’m glad, as she’d probably eat my share.”
“And mine, too,” Jarrett added, a reference to Finn’s mother’s reputation for a robust appetite. Finn described her as built like a lumberjack. It was true. When she first met Bran, her hug had crushed the air from his lungs.
“You three use me for the rooms and the food, but you can’t eat breakfast with me?”
“We avoid you like the plague until you finish your morning routine,” said Cole. “Since when do you like company for breakfast?”
“Or any other meal, as far as that goes?” Finn added, his curiosity tinged with a hint of humor. “Is this the new Branson Knight? You’re engaged, and you’re not a hermit anymore? If so, we welcome Carina with open arms.”
Bran’s face heated, knowing Mindy and her assistant were listening in. His staff knew his habits had changed when he started eating lunch with Stephanie. “Why don’t we go in the other room to talk?” Bran stomped into the dining room, his friends shuffling behind him. “The truth is, I read it’s better for your digestion if you don’t eat alone.”
“Only you would base a conversation on health benefits,” said Cole, as his chair scraped on the granite-tiled floor. “Heaven forbid you just wanted to talk to someone.”
“I talk to you guys all the time,” Bran defended, dropping into his usual chair at the dining table, directly across from Cole. “Mostly on the phone, but that’s because we all live in different states.”
“We never hear from you unless you want to discuss business,” Cole said.
“So what?” Bran shook his head, trying to follow his friend’s reasoning. “Why else would I call?”
“Because we’re supposed to be friends.” Jarrett took over the argument, but Finn and Cole muttered agreements.
“We are friends. You’re my only friends.” Branson failed to keep the frustration from his voice. Jarrett wasn’t making any sense.
“Friends talk about more than business,” Jarrett continued. “They talk about what’s happening in their lives. We used to get together every month, but the past couple of years you’ve been gradually cutting us off. It’s like we barely know you.”
“And friends tell each other upcoming major life changes, like engagements,” Finn added.
“That’s what this is all about?” Bran asked. “You guys are mad because I didn’t tell you I was getting engaged to Carina?”
“Not mad, exactly,” said Cole. “More like shocked.”
“It was a last-minute decision.”
“I don’t believe that for a minute,” Finn sputtered. “You don’t make last-minute decisions. You and Carina have been dating for a year.”
“This is just like the argument I had with Stephanie. First you say you’re caught by surprise. Then you complain I’ve been dating her for a year. What do you want from me? Seems like you all could’ve seen it coming.”
“Maybe we could’ve, if you’d ever called to talk about anything besides business or let us get to know this woman,” said Jarrett.
“It wouldn’t have helped,” said Cole. “Stephanie was surprised, and she’s with him almost every day.”
“Yeah… poor Stephanie.” Jarrett’s tone was dramatically sardonic. “I’m sure she deserves a raise, putting up with a boss like you for two years. But I guess you’ll have to fire her since you’re getting married.”
“I’m not letting her go.”
“When’s Carina moving in?” Finn ignored his words. “I might like to hire Stephanie. Do you think she’d mind living on the east coast?”
“I’m not firing Stephanie.” Bran slapped his hand on the table, rattling the silverware. “In fact, Stephanie’s moving into the complex.” He hoped his words were true. Fordham hadn’t reported back yet.
You could’ve heard a pin drop. Finally, Cole broke the silence. “Uhmm… Bran? Does Stephanie know that? Because she didn’t say anything about it when we talked last night.”
Bran didn’t want to consider the possibility it might not happen. His hands wadded up the napkin in his lap. “That’s another thing. You had no right to question Stephanie like that.”
