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Chapter 25
I arrived back at the apartment to the sound of the Red Sox game on the flat-screen. Brandon's luggage was still sitting in the foyer, and the remains of a burger and fries were on the table. I grinned. Brandon was home early.
The man himself strode out of the bedrooms, shoes off, tie undone, and his light blue dress shirt untucked and unbuttoned to reveal the stepladder of muscle he and his trainer maintained so exquisitely. He was clearly coming in to check on the score, but the game basically disappeared when he caught sight of me.
"Hey!"
Brandon veered around the couch and made a beeline for me. His immediate grin was contagious, as was his laugh as he hoisted me up in a full-bodied kiss, dangling my feet off the ground.
"You're home early," I mumbled into his lips as he finally stopped for breath.
"I had the plane on standby."
He continued to pepper kisses all over my face. I laughed, and finally, he set me down.
"We finished early," he said, watching curiously as I played with the ends of his tie. One blond brow quirked at the movement. "It's done."
"What's done?" I murmured, transfixed by the play of his tie and the way his stomach muscles tensed at the movement. It had been five days since I'd seen him––it felt more like five months.
"Ventures. I'm out."
I let the silk drop against his torso and looked up. "You mean the Jackson Anderson deal...?"
Brandon sighed and nodded. "Yep. Anderson finally signed the papers. There's going to be a transitional period––the guy micromanages like you wouldn't believe. Seriously, what a control freak. Do you have any idea how annoying it is to be talked to like an idiot by someone ten years younger than me?"
I smirked. "Must have been like looking in the mirror. I've seen photos. You guys could be brothers."
In return, I just got a withering look. I chuckled.
"Anyway," Brandon continued, "he's a decent guy underneath it all. You can tell by the way he looks at his fiancée. Sheesh, babe, you think I'm bad? Lexi has that guy totally whipped." He grinned. "You'd probably like her, come to think of it." Then he sighed again. "Anyway, he won't tear the company up, so there won't be a slaughter when Ventures is absorbed. People will still keep their jobs." He wrapped both of his hands around his neck, looking over my shoulder at the view of the city below us. "It's the end."
There was something in his voice I couldn't quite place. A nostalgia, maybe, but also a relief. Ventures had been Brandon's baby, but in a way, I knew he wasn't as attached to it as Sterling Grove. The investment group had been born out of the firm he'd inherited from his deceased father-in-law, Stan Keith. He'd come to it by way of his marriage to Miranda. He'd dissolved the hedge fund after Stan had passed and willed him the shares, and then used the capital to start his own investment firm, which had become one of the most successful in the Northeast––no small feat when he wasn't in New York.
His accomplishments with Ventures had been consuming and worth his pride. But it was the last connection he had to Miranda and her family, even if only from that history.
"Are you okay?" I asked as I reached up to turn his face back to mine.
The melancholy look transformed again to something sweeter; his blue eyes shined with love, and my insides warmed.
"Yeah," he said as he kissed me again. "I'm good. Now I guess I have no excuses but to give everything I have to the campaign. Cory's going to be thrilled."
At the mention of Cory, the warmth in my chest faded, and I turned back to the kitchen to get some water. But apparently I didn't turn away fast enough.
"What's that look for?"
I turned around from the other side of the counter, plastering what I hoped to be a pleasant smile on my face. "What look?"
Brandon feigned terror. "Red, you look like a serial killer with that smile. Seriously, baby, why do you even try to fake it with me?"
Immediately, the smile turned genuine, and I followed Brandon to the couch. He flipped off the volume of the Sox game and faced me, taking my hand in his.
"What's going on?" he asked. "Just tell me."
I took a deep breath as I thought over the conversation I'd had with Kieran, and then with Eric.
"Be honest," Eric had said. And he and Jane were both right. Brandon's and my problems really came from not being totally honest with each other.
"Sometimes," I said stiltedly, "sometimes I miss just being me. Just being Skylar. Who studies. Who works. Who goes to the bar with my friends. Who doesn't have to have security or press following her around."
