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She’d been so young, so foolish.
Well, she had two kids and a father to protect. Jessica couldn’t afford to be young and naïve any longer.
Her voice broke as she spoke, and it took everything she had to stifle sobs. “I can’t be with you, Brent. I care about you and Cara so much, but your dad hates me, and I know exactly what he does to people who cross him. I won’t let that happen to our—my—family, no matter what.”
With that, she flung herself into the nearest cab and ordered the driver to peel off. It almost broke her to leave Brent behind screaming for her, but she did it anyway.
After all, her hard choices were only just beginning.
Chapter Fifteen
Brent
Brent didn’t understand. Couldn’t process any of the last ten minutes. It had been one of the best nights of his life, the happiest he’d felt since LeeAnne’s death. Jessica was so close to admitting she loved him, too, to letting her walls down. The great night, the ambiance, the lovemaking… all of it. Then, his fucking father ruined it all over again. Like he always did.
It was enough.
Dammit.
Brent was the driving force in his own life and no one else. He stormed through the dance hall, avoiding board members, paparazzi, and his friends alike. There was only one man he needed to see. He found his father schmoozing with the governor. That was the damn problem with his dad. He could turn on the charm and make himself the life of the party, a skill Brent was glad to have inherited. At the same time, he could turn that passion into ire and spite, really go after someone as he had tonight with poor Jessica.
No one really believed or understood the depths of the monster living behind his dad’s overly rehearsed smile. Not until it was too late at least.
“Son,” his father said, his smile broad and triumphant, “I was just telling Governor Forsythe about your newest film. It’s about a boxer down on his luck or was it some cowboys eating pudding? I forget about your little films.”
“It’s not the discussion I want to have right now, Dad,” Brent said. He kept his smile bright and forced, but his tone was clipped. “There are a few questions about when to do the dedication speech, so I’ll need you outside for a moment.”
“I think you’ve spent quite enough time out there, Brent, and ignoring the foundation’s guests.”
He grabbed his father tightly around the elbow and gave it enough of a covert squeeze to let the old bastard know he meant business. “Now. It’s pressing.”
His father’s eyes narrowed, but there was a flash of fear in his eyes, an understanding that dynamics were finally shifting maybe. Whatever it was and whatever was going through his brain, Brent’s father decided to oblige. “Governor, I’ll be right back. We do have to make sure things come off without a hitch.”
That was rich.
Everything had plummeted off the rails, just like his father had wanted.
Jessica was gone, his heart was cracking all over again and, fuck, poor Cara. She’d never understand if he couldn’t win Jessica back. It would crush her, be another loss his poor girl couldn’t survive. Dammit. Why did everything have to be so hard?
Because you’re a Sanderson and Dad lives to fuck things up for you.
“Well, Son, I can’t say I’m out here for a tryst either,” his father quipped as they walked out onto the balcony. The door slammed shut behind them, and Donald shook his head. “I was amused by your own.”
Brent dropped his father’s elbow finally and balled up his hands into fists at his side. “You think you’re so clever. You think you have everything always planned out to suit you.”
“I didn’t plan to get my dick sucked by a girl at my own fundraiser. What the fuck has gotten into you?”
“It’s not what it looks like. Jessica and I have been dating for over four months. We love each other…” Not that she’d quite said it yet, but she was close. “We care about each other. I don’t care about some Vanderbilt or Rockefeller or the governor’s niece or whoever you want to set me up with. A few of them haven’t even batted for the right team if you catch my drift.”
“To make an omelet, you have to break some eggs,” his father said, waving his hand dismissively.
“No,” Brent said, grabbing his father by the lapels of his tuxedo and shoving him hard against the balcony. It was only a twenty-foot drop to the ground below, and Brent would never go that far, but his father needed to understand how through he was with all the old man’s crap. “I’m done. You’re not hearing me. Cara and I care about Jessica. She is the best friend my daughter’s never had. Cara’s smiled more in the last four months than in the almost decade since her mother died. I love her.”
