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Brandon reappeared at the table and leaned down to kiss his foster parents hello before coming to stand behind me.
"Are you ready for your big night?" Susan asked excitedly. "Do you have a speech prepared?"
Brandon patted his breast pocket. "Right here. Cory and I were up all night finishing it."
He rubbed his forehead, the only sign I'd seen yet that he was nervous. But when he put his hand on the back of my chair, I could see the whites of his knuckles.
"You're going to be amazing," I said, giving him what I hoped looked like a friendly pat on the hand.
He looked down at me with gratitude, and captured my hand briefly with a tight squeeze before anyone in the room could see. Soon the waiters would start to serve dinner, after which would be a few speeches before some dancing. That was when Brandon would be making his announcement. He downed the rest of his drink, which looked like bourbon.
"Careful there, slugger," I said. "You should probably eat something."
"Red," Brandon said quietly as he took another long sip of his drink, "I love you. But I swear to God, baby, you need to let me drink tonight."
Before I could reply, there was a kerfuffle at the ballroom entrance that caught our attention.
"What do you mean, I'm not on the list?"
A woman's voice rang out, clear and sharp, even over the din. Just past the doormen and the woman holding a clipboard, I could see dark hair, porcelain skin, bright pink lips.
My stomach dropped. Miranda Sterling.
Brandon sighed, tipped back the rest of his drink, then set it on the table next to me. "I'd better go deal with this," he said, and stalked off without another word.
Our entire table watched as he entered the fray, and I saw Miranda's eyes, dark and sharp, perfectly lined and mascaraed, as they caught sight of Brandon's tall form. They brightened. Then they found me and turned venomous.
"Jesus," Jane breathed beside me. "If she were Medusa, you'd be stone right now."
I shuddered. Right now, Miranda was scarier than a mythical monster with snake hair.
I grabbed my clutch. "I should probably go."
"Oh, please don't," Susan piped up across the table.
Jane and I turned to find Susan staring at the entrance with obvious disgust.
Susan looked back at me and smiled. "She's just so...so..."
"Horrendous," Ray supplied dryly.
He raised a faint, white brow at me. It was probably the most positive reinforcement I'd ever receive from the man.
"Exactly," Susan chimed in. "Petty and vicious, and she's had Bran practically locked up in that big ugly house for years. She's just mad now that he's finally moving on, whether she wants him to or not. And with someone as lovely as you, no less."
"Susan––" I started. I appreciated the votes of confidence, but that didn't mean me being here was a good idea.
"No, no, no," Susan continued. "Truly. He wouldn't be here tonight if not for you. He always hated the spotlight. You've got to know how you brought him out of his shell."
"She's leaving," murmured Jane, who hadn't stopped watching the scene over my shoulder.
When I looked back, Miranda had disappeared, and Brandon was making his way back toward our table.
"That's done," he said when he arrived, although he still didn't sit down.
I gulped. "Really?"
I hated the fact that I couldn't give him the hug and kiss he clearly needed, but there were already a few members of the press being escorted to a designated area by the ballroom's podium, not far from our table. Brandon nodded with a sweet smile my way, but made no move to touch me. It looked like it caused him physical pain.
