He didn’t stop her when she walked away this time, which was just as well because she couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. She strode down the hall toward the elevator, digging through her purse to pull out her phone to call a Lyft, when she collided with a man in a suit.
“Hey! Careful.”
A pair of hands steadied her, and she whipped her head up to see a blurry blond face. She dashed the tears out of her eyes and groaned. “How are you always where I don’t want you to be?”
Brandon Lowell smirked at her. “Great to know I’ve made an impression.”
She opened her mouth to snap something back at him. She was Faith Fox. She had a retort for every circumstance. But to her horror, all that came out was a watery sob.
His expression immediately shifted to discomfort. “Hey.” He patted her shoulder awkwardly. “It’s okay.”
She shook her head as she rooted around in her bag for a tissue. “It’s not.” Dammit, of course she didn’t have anything to blot with when she really needed it.
“Stay.” Having commanded her like a dog, Brandon disappeared into the bar area only to reappear with a handful of cocktail napkins. “Here.”
“Thanks.” She miserably wiped at her eyes, and the napkin came away mascara-smeared. “Oh my God, I have to get out of here.”
“I wasn’t in the mood to have networking drinks anyway. Shall we?” He gestured toward the elevator, and she nodded.
“Why not? You’re cheaper than a Lyft.”
“I’m lots of things, but I’m not cheap.” He pressed the Call button and followed her in after the doors rumbled open.
She snuck a glance at him on their way down to the attached parking garage. She’d spent next to no time with him, but even through her own haze of misery she could see that he was still struggling. His features were still sharply elegant under the harsh lighting, but his eyes were shadowed and the lines around his mouth were deeper than they’d been the last time she’d seen him. Even his normally razor-neat hair was looking untrimmed. He was still the picture of privileged upper-class beauty, but the seams on his normally immaculate facade were showing.
He opened the passenger-side door of his low-slung black Porsche that he’d almost run her down with a few weeks ago, and she set aside her own heartache to ask, “How are things going?”
Brandon said nothing, just shut her door and walked around to his side. Only after he was settled in did he respond.
“Worse.”
She exhaled in sympathy but didn’t press for details, and he didn’t seem inclined to share, instead asking, “Where am I taking you?”
She rattled off the address, and he entered it into the nav system. Before he pulled away from the curb, his eyes slid over to her legs, visible in her favorite swingy skirt.
“I’m still not sleeping with you,” she muttered, adjusting the red fabric to cover as much of her knees as she could.
“I’m still not asking.” His response was unruffled. “Then again”—his eyes returned to her legs—“you’re not leaving here with tall, dark, and angry, are you?”
She turned to glower at him, but with that smirk back on his face, he at least looked a little less sad.
“My life may have collapsed,” he said with a shrug as he backed out of the parking spot, “but I still keep tabs on every hot woman in the room.”
“Wow. I’m flattered,” she said flatly.
“You should be.” Arrogant was actually a pretty good look for him. If only she was in the market. “Want to tell me about the fight with the boyfriend?”
“Nope.”
“Okay.” He inserted his ticket into the parking garage machine, and the mechanical arm lifted to turn them loose on the streets of Beaucoeur. “Ride in silence, listen to the radio, or carry on inconsequential conversation so neither of us have to think about how empty we both are inside?”
“Um. Inconsequential conversation over the radio?”
He flipped it on, and low music filled the car. “Can you believe this weather?”
For the rest of the ride they chatted away like two kids who’d grown up surrounded by preoccupied adults, which is exactly what they were. It kept her brain busy enough that she didn’t dwell on her bruised heart.
When he pulled into her parents’ massive drive, Brandon gave a whistle. “I changed my mind. Sleep with me. Make me your kept man.”
