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The sound of footsteps on the stairs caught my attention and, after wiping my hands on a towel, I made my way to the entryway.
“I bet Gio’s ecstatic for a new game. He was getting restless. Poor kid.”
“Look, Quinn. I’m told I’m the bitch in the family, but what my family doesn’t realize is I’m the one who looks out for everyone.”
“You seem nice to me,” I said with a shrug.
“Remember that because, after what I say, you might think differently.
My heart stuttered; my body froze. Did she know who I really was? Did she find out my secret? Believe the lies and untruthful headlines that ruined my life? I gripped the table where Franc always placed his keys and waited.
“You’re sleeping with my brother.” The accusation was so matter of fact, I nearly lost my bearings. Those were not the words I expected to hear.
“I’m sorry…?”
“I had a suspicion, but when Gio said you were in his dad’s bed with your own tummy ache, it pretty much confirmed it.”
“I don’t want to be rude, but it’s none of your business.” I shifted from one foot to the other, trying not to show how uncomfortable this conversation was making me, but knowing I was failing miserably. Heat crept up my neck and into my cheeks.
“That’s where you’re wrong. Franc is my brother, so it is my business. He already got screwed over by one manipulative sad excuse for a woman because he thinks with the wrong head.”
“First of all, you don’t give your brother enough credit, and second, you don’t even know me.”
“You’re right. I don’t. I tried Googling your name, but to my surprise, nothing. It’s like you don’t even exist.”
“I don’t have social media.” I did under Quinn Fraser, but I had deleted all those accounts. Quinn St Clair didn’t technically exist, not outside of Vine Valley.
“Oh, come on. You’re like… what?” She gives me a once-over, crossing her arms. “No wrinkles. No sign of Botox. Like twenty-five?”
I didn’t know whether to feel flattered or offended. “I’m twenty-seven.”
“And you don’t have social media? That’s hard to believe. Even still. You were apparently a teacher, yet I found nothing under your name.” She shifted the strap of her designer bag on her shoulder. “I’m not here to judge—”
My patience wavered. “Sure as hell sounds like you are.”
She didn’t even blink. “I’m here to protect my brother.”
“He’s a grown man and doesn’t need your protection.”
“Says the twenty-seven-year-old who’s sleeping with a thirty-nine-year-old man.”
“I don’t see Franc’s age when I look at him.” I saw a loving father. A kind soul. A man who made me feel sexy and confident.
“Then what do you see? His money?”
“Of course not!”
“Then help me understand why a pretty girl like yourself is here in the middle of bumfuck Pennsylvania, especially if you have a teaching degree and are choosing to be a nanny instead.”
I didn’t know what she wanted me to say. Franc didn’t even know the truth yet, and I’d be damned if I told her before him. I swallowed and met her steely gaze head on.
“Sometimes bad things happen to good people, and sometimes those people need time and space. That doesn’t make me a bad person. It makes me human. And I hope beneath your layers of steel, you can understand what being human is.”
Her jaw clicked, and for a second, I thought I could see a sputter of emotion come through the hard exterior.
“Franc is not a number to me,” I continued. “He is not a bank. He is a good man who has given me hope in this cruel world, and the last thing I would ever want is to hurt him or betray the trust that he has given me. I respect him too much for that.”
Chardonnay’s shoulders shifted from close to her ears, down about a quarter inch. “Tell me one thing. This bad stuff…. It’s not going to put my nephew or my brother in danger, will it?”
