Front Page Affair (11 page)

N
ATE
pulled a suit from his closet and laid it over the end of the bed where Payton lazed beneath the blankets. “I'll be back Wednesday evening. We can have a late dinner.”

A pair of shorts, track pants, tee shirts and socks were stacked haphazardly within his case. Straightening the lot, he caught the languid stretch of a pale arm by the headboard, the shifting of a slender leg. Considered shoving the whole packing mess to the floor and using the bed for the purpose it was intended.

“How is it I've gotten spoiled on you in only one month?” came the quiet purr from amid the sheets. “Five days is so long.”

Nate chuckled, taking her pout for the stroke to his ego it was. She'd miss him. They'd fallen into a habit of seeing each other every other day or so and this would be the longest they'd gone apart since their first night together. In all honesty, the break was probably overdue.

As good as being with Payton felt, something about all that rightness—the ease with which she fit into too many areas of his life—was making his skin itch. Making him tug at his tie and rebel against a confine without physical properties. He needed some space. As she'd said, it had been over a month.

His motions slowed and he stood, frozen, holding a boxed shirt suspended above his case.

More than twenty-eight days.

He shot a glance at Payton, searching for an answer to a question he didn't like.

He'd have known if she started her period.

No. No. He was being paranoid. She wasn't pregnant. Couldn't be. How many times had he heard some television or radio commercial touting on about each woman's body being different. They just hadn't been together long enough for him to know what kind of different to expect from hers.

Only suddenly he wanted to pilfer through her diary in search of those little circled numbers. Figure out exactly where she kept that critical information and make a note of it. Reassure himself he hadn't somehow made the most monumental mistake of his life and then play a quiet game of keep away during those most fertile times of the month.

There was no way. A matter of days would confirm it. Only he'd be gone for the next five.

“Nate?” Payton pushed to her elbows and the sheet slipped low across the swell of her breast.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, balled his fists and tried for casual. “Why don't you come with me?”

He'd wanted the space, and at that moment was nearly gasping for breathing room, but the idea of not knowing, not being sure—it was intolerable. He'd set up another trip in a week or two.

She sat straighter. “What?”

“I'm going to be busy with work. Meetings. Drinks and dinners. But eventually I'll have to sleep. And if I have a woman back in my room, they won't try taking me out to some seedy strip club this time. Besides, the shopping is supposed to be top-notch.”

Silence rang through the room, bouncing around the slate walls, allowing his agitation to grow.

“Um, that's nice, and I wish I could,” she offered at last, “but I take vacations over school breaks.”

His jaw set, his focus narrowed. “Call in sick.”

She began smoothing one corner of the sheet between her fingers. “I've got plans with my family.”

“You could see them anytime.”

Her gaze slid away, the turn of her head shutting him out. She looked uncomfortable. As if whatever she was thinking wasn't something she wanted to share. And he was hanging every hope on it being some neurotic hang-up about discussing her menstrual cycle.

“I—well—”

This was ridiculous. He was railroading her into a trip he didn't want her to come on rather than just asking. Man up. “Your period?”

“What?”

“Are you expecting it? Is that why you don't want to come?”

Shifting to sit akimbo, Payton cocked her head in a way where Nate could almost see her calculating dates. Whatever excuse she'd been ready to offer, that wasn't it. Just as well she had a reason to stay behind, particularly since he'd broached the subject and had her on the right track now.

“Actually, yes. In the next few days.” Then she squinted an eye at him. “Awfully intuitive. Do you have any hang-ups at all?”

He laughed as if she'd made some great joke, covering the relief that washed through him with tsunami force. “Not about that kind of thing. It's a period. Big deal. Women get them.”

It was when they didn't get them, you had something to worry about.

She wrinkled her nose. “But you grew up in a house with just your father. No sisters. And yet, you're miles beyond what Brandt or Clint could handle.”

Nate shrugged, feeling lighter than he had in days. “It's probably as much to do with my dad as anything else. Being the educator, he wasn't really one to shy away from a topic because it happened to apply more specifically to the other gender. And because my mom wasn't around to give the female perspective, he invariably felt an obligation to be as forthright as possible. The man was a chronic over-compensator.”

Payton laughed and held out her hand. “Tee shirt?”

Nate pulled one from his bag and handed it over.

“You know, you've never really told me about your mom. She was gone by the time we met. But beyond that…”

And here he thought things were turning around. “What do you want to know?”

She had a right to ask. It wasn't any big deal, just not his favorite topic.

“What happened to her?”

“She took off when I was five. Life with Dad and me wasn't right for her. She wanted something different, I guess. Hell, I don't know, something else.”

A little line crinkled between her brows, suggesting she didn't like where the story was going. But she needn't have worried, there wasn't much more than what he'd already said.

Leaning across the bed, he dropped a kiss on her knee. “It wasn't too bad. She'd checked out long before she actually left, so it wasn't like we'd suddenly lost something we didn't know how to live without.”

“But what did she do? Where did she go?” He could all but see the unspoken question painted across her face.
“How could she leave you?”

“I don't know where she ended up. Dad did, for a while at least—he made sure she was okay. You know how he is. But for me, once she left, that was it.”

“But she's your mother. She knew you. Loved you.”

A vision of a pretty smile and distracted eyes slipped through his memory. Soft hair and a nice smell. Remote. Unavailable. Watching her stare out the window, the door… down the road.

Nate zipped the bag and hefted it to the floor before meeting Payton's waiting eyes. She hurt for him. He could see it there, but she didn't need to. “Payton, some people aren't cut out to have a family. I don't think my mom was a bad person, I think she just didn't understand the way she was until it was too late.” Deficient. Same as him.

Payton couldn't imagine it. Giving a child five years of attachment and then ripping it away. What did that do to a little boy? What did it do to the man he became? “Is that why you don't—?”

“Does it really matter?”

Maybe it did. Her lips parted to press the question, but the quick shake of Nate's head and hardening of his eyes told her not to.

Ignoring the pinch in her heart, she pushed a smile to lips rebelling against it and tried for the make-light conversation that always smoothed over those sticky moments. “So you've got everything you need for the trip? Razor, toothbrush, stack of singles for the strip club?”

Nate barked out a laugh, his head hang-dog low. “What kind of man do you think I am?” Then, turning that impish blue glint of mischief on her, he grabbed her ankle and pulled her to him. “It's a stack of fives, baby.”

“So bad,” she murmured, pulling him down to her mouth for a kiss. And like that they were fine. Casual and easy. “And, I know, I like it.” She loved it. As she knew she loved him, even though she wasn't supposed to.

 

Two nights later, Payton curled into the corner of the sofa, phone held to her ear as Nate recounted his botched attempt
to evade the strip club the evening before. Eyes closed, she listened to his voice, missing the feel of his arms around her. “I told you what would happen if you didn't come with me.”

She sighed. “Poor Nate. The things you suffer for the love of your business.”

“She mocks.”

“She does. But only a little.” She smiled at Nate's low chuckle. “I miss you.”

“You, too. When's dinner with your mom and Brandt?”

“Tomorrow night. I'll drive out after school.” She pulled the throw higher and tucked her legs beneath her. “It's still strange going home, knowing my father won't be there. You'd think after a year I'd be used to it.”

“I think it's perfectly normal. You grew up in that house with him. In your heart, he's a part of it. I'm sorry it hurts, though.”

She nodded, simply wishing Nate could be there with her before she thought better of it. Brandt would love that, particularly since this would be the first time she actually had to face him since her relationship began. She took a deep breath, knowing it was time for the call to come to an end. She was getting wistful and both of them needed to get up early the next morning. “Well,” she sighed, stretching across the cushions where she'd gone lax under the spell of his voice. “I better let you go.”

“Hey, Payton, one more thing?”

“Mmm-hmm?” God, she missed him.

“What we were talking about the other morning,” he began, the soothing tone of his voice taking on an efficient businesslike edge. “Your period—did you get it?”

She blinked, mildly surprised by his question. “Um, yes, I did. Today actually.”

“Good.” A long breath filtered through the line, and she pulled the phone from her ear, staring at the receiver. A
moment of insecurity touched her with the nagging sensation that last question had been the purpose of the whole call. But then she thought of the circumstances that had brought them together. A pregnancy. A child. Six months of the cruelest uncertainty.

She couldn't blame him for being concerned and suddenly felt immensely grateful this wasn't one of those months she simply missed her period altogether.

“Don't worry, Nate. Everything's fine.”

“Have some ice cream or binge on something disgusting or whatever you women do. I'll see you in a few days.”

“M
OM,
Brandt's pulling up,
”
Payton called, watching from the front window as the black Escalade pulled into the circular drive. It had been weeks since she'd seen Brandt and, aside from the one brusque call she'd received about the folly of getting involved with a man like Nate, he'd been unusually quiet as of late, burying himself deep in the running of Liss Industries. Doing well. Her father would have been proud.

Heading to the foyer, she heard the thud of a car door and then stalled mid-step at the sound of another.

A moment later the front door swung open wide and her brother strode in, a cavalier grin on his face and Clint on his heels.

Payton's back straightened, her jaw setting hard.

“Hey, Payton,” Brandt offered with a jut of his chin by way of greeting as he crossed to take her in quick hug. “Hope you don't mind, I've brought Clint along for dinner.”

She raised a cool brow at her brother as betrayal shot hot through her veins. “I see.” She did mind. Very much, in fact, but when had anything as trivial as her opinion ever stopped her brother before?

Clint crossed to her and dropped a chaste kiss to her cheek. “Don't blame Brandt. I asked him to arrange this. Things didn't go the way I'd intended the last time we spoke—” He broke off, letting out a strained breath before turning back to
her. “And my behavior was unacceptable. But I'm asking you for a chance to talk. Privately.”

She looked from Clint to Brandt and then to her mother, who was descending the wide staircase. “I'm here to have dinner with my family.”

“Nonsense,” her mother interjected, urging her to understand with her eyes. “There's time enough for everyone. Brandt's taking me over to the store to pick up something to go with the lamb. It'll give you two a chance to talk and then we'll have dinner after we get back.”

Brandt crossed his arms over his chest. “Don't be difficult about this, Payton. I think it's the least you can do considering the way these last weeks have played out. In fact, I'd say you owe it to Clint here.”

Payton swallowed, looking past her overbearing brother to the door she wished she'd never ventured through this evening. Releasing a short breath, she nodded, taking a step back from Clint even as she agreed to speak with him. She didn't want any misread signals. Any misunderstandings. But she did feel bad about the way she'd handled the Nate situation with him.

Clint acknowledged with a pained twist of his lips and a resigned nod. Extending one arm toward the living room, he gave her the space to pass. Then turned to Brandt and her mother. “I appreciate this.”

Payton crossed the ancient oriental and perched at the edge of a wingback chair, ankles crossed, hands folded neatly in her lap. Clint followed her into the room and, catching sight of her there, paused, a small smile touching his lips. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, but—”

He held up a hand and walked over to the chair opposite her. “Merely stating the facts.” Then after a pause, “How did we get here, Payton? So far from where we're supposed to be.”
He looked up at her. “I've given you time, but this business with Nate Evans has gone too far.”

Payton shook her head. “What's happening with Nate is none of your business—”

“Fine.” He leaned forward. “Forget him. He's not important anyway. Not for our future. All I care about is us. You and me. Going forward. I know after your father passed away you had a tough time. You needed…space…to adjust. And I gave it to you.”

They'd broken up. She'd told him it was over. Not that she needed space. But Clint wouldn't see it that way. He'd chalked her behavior up to a reaction to her father's death. And maybe it had been, but that didn't change the fact that she'd made the right choice in leaving him.

“I don't love you, Clint.”

He shook his head, not willing to hear. Or maybe not caring. “We were good together. Right.”

She felt the familiar stab of frustration, bit back the hot denial that rushed to her lips, knowing it would be dismissed as irrational. Pulling her composure around her, she met his stare. “No. We were never that good or that right together. Only you couldn't see it and I didn't want to admit it. But I knew. Even before Daddy… A part of me wouldn't let us go forward, wouldn't talk about marriage when you brought it up… I wanted to be happy about what we had. I wanted to see what everyone else saw. How perfect we were together. But I wasn't being honest with myself or you. I'm so sorry, Clint.”

“You realize what you're giving up here?”

She nodded. A life where she felt trapped by a man who, though decent enough, didn't really care to know her.

“I do.”

 

Knock, knock knock, knock
… “Payton, open up.”

Brandt.
He must have hopped in his car the minute he got back to the house and discovered she'd left.

The last thing she wanted was to continue this little intervention here at home. She'd do about anything to dodge her big brother coming down on her with all his disappointment and bullying. Maybe if she didn't answer he'd just go.

“Don't bother hiding. I know you're in there.” Of course he did. Her car was parked outside and she was the sole occupant of the third floor, with every light in the apartment shining down on the street below.

Returning the paperback she'd just picked up to the To Be Read pile beside her couch, she pushed to her feet and walked to the door in time to hear the lock tumble as Brandt made use of the keys she sorely regretted giving him.

“Unless you've got a bolt cutter in there, just give me a second.” She slipped the chain and stepped back, arms crossed, ready to face him down. “You can't let yourself in here any time you want.”

Brandt swung the door open and met her determined stare, raising it with a measure of disappointment only their mother could rival. “You've done it now. Clint's through.”

“I wasn't trying to hurt him, Brandt. But I'm glad he finally believes me.”

“You're throwing away your future for some…fling. You know that's what it is, right? Mr. Bachelor of the year…bad-boy billionaire Nate Evans. Are you stupid? You know how he gets those names, right? By pricking around.”

“Shut up, Brandt. You don't know what's between Nate and I—”

“Yeah, and I don't want to know, except that, with Dad gone, I'm the one looking out for you.”

She let out a harsh breath. “I don't need anyone looking out
for me. Especially someone who can't understand the choices I'm making in my life.”

She mumbled under her breath, walking away.

“Did you just call me a ‘stupid jerk'?”

She had. Heat splashed her cheeks, but, unwilling to back down, she spun on him. “If the shoe fits…”

Only then the absurdity of her muttered insult hit them both. The tension and starch seemed to slip from her brother's shoulders and he leaned back into the wall behind him. Pressing the heels of his palms into his brows, he let out a heavy breath. “I know how you feel, Payton. About Dad. About trying to be perfect for so long. It wears on you and all that pressure makes you resentful. Only you know you can't get angry at him. The weak heart wasn't something he could help. So you keep trying to do the right thing. Take care of him. Be good. Try harder… Except, after all that effort, he goes and dies anyway. It was a raw deal. I know that.”

Tears bit at the backs of her eyes as her bully-big-brother voiced what her heart had been sobbing for a year. “It's like everything I did, all the right choices I made were for nothing.”

“So now you want to be bad for a while? Is that what this is with Nate? With the apartment? Clint? Every major decision you've made in the last year has been the sort of thing Dad would have hated. Are you trying to get even with him? Show him what happens when he doesn't hold up his end of the bargain and live?”

Her throat was so dry, she didn't think she could speak. She shook her head, blinking away the welling tears. “No. It's about being true to myself. Living my own life. Mine. Not his. The job I want. The apartment I can afford.”
The man I love.

Brandt scanned her apartment, as though doubting her word. Then pushed off the wall and stuffed his hands deep into
his pockets. “You know, on the way over to Mom's, Clint and I were talking about when you two started dating. Apparently he'd asked you what you wanted out of a relationship.”

Her breath pulled in with a slow ache. She knew where this was going.

“You said, ‘Family and security, trust and partnership.' I think he figured out he wanted to marry you that night.”

She'd known it, too. Looked at Clint and thought he was exactly the right sort of man to make a life with. And yet every time he'd brought up marriage, she'd shied away.

As if following her thoughts, Brandt offered, “Even if Clint wasn't the one. You gave him an honest answer, didn't you? You still want those things?”

When she didn't answer, Brandt's scowl deepened and the understanding man who might have been her friend a moment ago transformed back into the brother frustrated with the mess his little sister was making of her life. “What does Nate Evans think about those wants? I'm assuming he knows. Or did this ‘honest life' you're so keen on living not include being honest with him?”

“It's not like that with Nate. Neither one of us is interested in marriage or forever right now.”

Brandt let out a short laugh. “Right. Who are you lying to now, Payton?”

Her mouth burst open in denial, but already he'd gone on. “Have you been honest with that guy for one minute since you started whatever the hell it is you're doing together? Does he have any idea how long you've been pining for him? I'd be willing to bet a sizable chunk of Liss shares that he doesn't. Just like I'd bet he doesn't know how showing up in the papers has affected your work environment—the flak you take for it.”

“Things have been better at work lately—”

“I'm glad to hear it, but
come on
,
Payton
, the last time
we talked about this you were hell-bent on getting out of the media spotlight. Swearing up and down that wedding you and Evans were caught at would be the last high-profile event. You were desperate. And yet, I think I've seen your name or face in the news more times over the last month than I have in the last year.”

“It's different now.”

“Why?” he challenged. “Because you're in love?”

“Things are good with Nate. We both knew what we were getting into with this relationship and we're both fine with it.”

He took a deep breath and shoved off the wall. Stopping at the door, he turned to her. “Payton, if you have to lie to me, that's one thing. You want to lie to Nate Evans?” He touched the single bump at the bridge of his nose. “Be my guest. Just do me a favor and don't lie to yourself.”

The door swung closed with a thud. The lock tumbled and then even the muffled fall of his steps left her. Alone, she faced the uneasy revelation that perhaps Brandt had seen her more clearly than she'd ever given him credit for.