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“So you keep saying,” she repeated.
All he did was grin.
“I appreciate your efforts with my mom last night,” she said once he chose a table for them and placed her plate in front of her. He’d served her nearly as much as he’d served himself. She couldn’t eat half of the food on the giant plate.
“What do you mean?” He ate a bite of potatoes.
“Talking to my parents isn’t as easy as talking to yours. If we’d have stood there any longer, I’m sure my father would have asked a lot of questions about ThomKnox shareholders, company worth and other impolite matters.”
Bran chuckled. “I’m used to it.”
She scooped up a bite of her own breakfast. “At least Joe’s parents didn’t grill you.”
“They couldn’t care less about our shareholders. They have more money than God. Seriously, ThomKnox doesn’t have a tenth of what Hart Media has. Damn monopolies.” He winked to let her know he was kidding.
“Don’t you? Have more money than God?”
“We’re up there.”
And she wasn’t. They were from two different worlds. Her crush on him had always been safe. Distant. It wasn’t the stuff of real life. It was a fantasy, pure and simple. Only now the lines had blurred. It wasn’t clear what was happening between them.
“Money aside, your family is amazing,” she told him. “I remember when I first started working there and I met you one at a time. Gia, Royce, you...and then your dad and eventually your mom. I decided that day I wanted to be a Knox when I grew up.” She winced, realizing what she’d implied. “I didn’t mean that in a creepy way.”
“Sure you didn’t.” He kept eating, unfazed.
“My family’s never been as generous with their love. It always had to be earned.”
Who wanted to earn love? She drank from her coffee mug and raised her eyes when she felt Bran watching her.
“Hence the family dinners at Pestle & Pepper.”
He didn’t miss a thing.
“You don’t have to earn love when you can pay for it,” she followed that with a “ha ha,” but he didn’t laugh. In fact, he was watching her a little too intently. Like he was seeing clear down to her soul.
“Maybe we can stop by there on the way home,” she said, happily changing the subject. “I’m having withdrawal. I mean...assuming you’re driving me home.”
“Of course I’m driving you home,” he said, amused.
“I’ll give you some gas money.”
“Addison.” He dropped his fork and swiped his mouth with his napkin. “Do you hear yourself? What kind of assholes have you been dating, anyway?”
“I don’t date. Because they’re assholes. Except for pretend funeral dates. Oddly enough, those turn out really well.”
Earning another laugh was like being handed a million dollars. Who needed riches when she had Brannon Knox?
Four-plus more hours in the car with him to look forward to after an entire weekend spent in his company. She wouldn’t know what to do with herself come Monday morning when he was in his office and she was stationed outside of it.
This weekend was originally meant to be the beginning of the end of her Bran obsession. Now Operation Get Over Him held another meaning entirely. Like getting over him. Or under him. She wasn’t picky.
She smothered a laugh by coughing.
“The masquerade ball is tonight,” he said.
“Oh, I don’t expect you to attend that. It’s a whole thing, with masks and formalwear.” She waved a hand. It wasn’t a big deal, so why was her heart pounding a nervous staccato, like she was about to be asked to prom? “If anyone asks where you are I’ll say you were tired.”
“And let you go by yourself? Forget it.” He ate a bite of eggs and then added, “Who knows who will dance with you if I’m not there.”
