On the Move (6 page)

“These are nice, aren’t they?” he asked, holding open the front door.

He saw her brows lift when she caught a glimpse of the inside. This was one of the furnished ones and so it had a couch in the family room off to their right. To the left were the bedrooms, and straight ahead was the kitchen, tall windows allowing light to spill into the interior.

“I always thought they’d look, you know, cheap,” he said. “But this is great. The boys will love them.”

She didn’t say anything. When he glanced back at her, he noticed she hadn’t moved away from the door. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Why didn’t you tell me what you wanted to do?”

He shrugged. “Why would I? It’s my own little pet project. SSI has nothing to do with it.”

She peered up at him, and Brandon thought to himself, yet again, that she really was pretty in a no-nonsense way. He liked that she didn’t wear a lot of makeup. He felt intrigued by the suit she wore—or more specifically—what might be underneath. And when he’d touched her earlier, he’d recognized something else, too. They had chemistry.

Man,
did they ever have chemistry.

She was shaking her head.

“What? Do you think it’s a dumb idea?”

“No,” she said, meeting his gaze at last. “I think it’s a great idea.”

He felt his shoulders relax. “You do?”

She nodded. “I just have to wonder, you know, why?”

“Why what?”

“Why a boys’ ranch?”

He shrugged. “It’s just something I’ve always wanted to do.”

“Yes, but
why?
”

Leave it to Vicky to ask such a question. He hadn’t known her all that long, but he could already tell she was like a dog with a bone when it came to getting to the bottom of a matter. “Maybe because I know what it’s like to grow up lonely.”

“Do you?”

“Of course. Traveling like my family did. Racing every weekend. I didn’t have time for friends. When I did get a weekend off, I was an outcast. I was that kid that didn’t go to school. Didn’t get to take a girl to prom. Didn’t do anything but race.”

“Yes, but what does that have to do with wanting to open up a boys’ ranch?”

“I just told you,” he said. “I want a place where lonely kids, like I was, can gather and meet other kids like themselves.”

“Was your father hard on you, Brandon?”

“Okay, that’s enough,” he said, turning away. “Let’s check the place out. I bet there’s a bed in that room down there.”

She didn’t follow and when he stopped at the end of the hallway, she still stood in the family room, a sad expression on her face.

“Come on,” he urged.

He saw her pull in a deep breath, saw her throw her shoulders back. She must have realized she’d trod too closely to a subject he didn’t want to discuss because she didn’t push him further and for that he was grateful. The last thing he wanted to discuss—ever—was his father.

“Wow, look at the size of that bed,” he said after peeking into a room. “Bet we could have some fun on that.” He flung himself onto the mattress in question, bouncing up and down on it for good measure.

She must have changed her mind about pushing him because he heard her say, “I know about the fistfight you got into with him.”

“Seriously, Vicky. Enough. The subject of my father is off-limits.”

“Why? Because he was hard on you?”

“Enough,” he said again, shooting off the bed. He couldn’t take the compassion in her eyes. And the sorrow and the pity. His childhood wasn’t that bad. He’d learned to race cars. That was all that was important.

“Let’s go,” he said.

She grabbed his hand as he passed by. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“Vicky,” he said, biting back an oath of impatience.

“You can talk to me about it if you want.”

He tried to think of what to say, but in the end he did the unthinkable.

He kissed her.

He didn’t know why, except he suspected he did it so he could shut her up. What he didn’t expect was the jolt that nearly knocked him to his knees.

“Brandon,” she cried.

The chemistry he’d noticed earlier kicked in, and before he knew it, a simple kiss had turned into something far more. His hands dropped to her shoulders, pulling her even closer, trying to pull her up against him so she could press that sweet little body of hers against his…

“Brandon,” she gasped.

“Wow,” he said softly, and then, “Wow,” again. She tasted like caramel mocha—sweet.

Suddenly she said, “Let me go.”

He did exactly that. They stood there, light streaming in from a window over the bed, Vicky panting and Brandon thinking yet again,
Wow.

“I’m calling Scott.”

“Why?”

“This isn’t going to fly.”

“What isn’t?”

“Our working together. Not now. Not after—”

“Our kiss?”

She nodded, and she was already reaching for her cell phone. Her hands shook.

“Vicky,” he said softly. “Don’t call your boss.”

“I have to,” she mumbled, pressing some numbers.

He took her phone away.

“Hey,” she cried.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“You should be.”

“You’re not going to quit,” he said.

“You
kissed
me.”

“I promise not to do it again.”

Something sparked in her eyes. Something that’d looked an awful lot like…

Disappointment?

“I can’t be your agent,” she said again.

“Vicky,” he said softly, studying her closely. Had she
liked
his kiss? “I know you’re upset, and I don’t blame you. But don’t quit.”

He couldn’t let her do that, he suddenly realized. He
needed
her. He
liked
her. Vicky had compassion—something that was rare in his life. Not only that—she had ethics and that was something he also needed in his life, although it was a little late to be recognizing that now.

“Look, I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “We’ll try this out for a week. If we don’t mesh, I’ll call your boss. I’ll tell him you’re doing a great job, but that I like being represented by men. That sounds plausible, and that way you won’t look as if you’re walking out on me, something I’ll bet your boss won’t like.”

She peered up at him. Brandon tried not to look at her lips. Her totally natural, beautifully shaped lips. Damn, he wanted to kiss her again. It shocked him just how much.

“I’m sorry, Brandon,” she said softly. “But when I get back to the hotel, I’m going to call Scott and resign.”

“Vicky,” he began as she exited the car.

“Bye, Brandon,” she said, practically bolting for the hotel. But as she let herself back into her hotel room, her stomach turned at the thought of calling Scott. Quitting meant going back to New York as a failure. It meant finding a new job. Maybe moving back in with her parents.

Staying meant dealing with Brandon. After that kiss, she knew that wouldn’t be wise. She was starting to like him, and not in a purely professional way, either. That just wouldn’t do. Bad enough that she had a horrible track record with men. She’d been dumped so many times she’d lost count. Throw in the fact that she was Brandon’s agent and they were doomed.

She picked up the phone.

It rang in her hand. She dropped it. “Son of a—”

The phone rang again. Reluctantly, she checked the display.

It was her mother.

Vicky almost ignored it, but she knew if she did, her mom would only call back again. And again. And again.

With a sigh of resignation, she pressed the accept call button.

“Are you ready to come home yet?” her mother asked.

“Mo-om,” Vicky moaned. “I just got here.”

The sniff of disdain was barely audible, but Vicky heard it. “I know. But I should have thought a few hours would have been sufficient time to convince you to leave.”

As a matter of fact, a few hours
had been
enough—but she couldn’t tell her mom that. Theirs was a…difficult relationship, complicated by the fact that Elaina VanCleef wasn’t really her mom. Oh, Elaina had raised her, but Vicky’s real mom had died when Vicky was only two. Her dad had remarried with surprising haste. Such haste, in fact, that Vicky had always wondered if there hadn’t been a little hanky-panky going on between her father and Elaina when her mother had been alive.

“I know it’s not New York,” Vicky said. “But it’s actually really pretty here. I’ll be doing a lot of traveling to Charlotte in the future.”

If she could find another job with a sports agency.

“Honey, I know you’ve momentarily convinced yourself that you want to be an agent, but do you really have to
move
there? The Met’s benefit is next week. There’s a big gala at the zoo. Fashion Week is just around the corner. I know you won’t want to miss that, right?”

Actually, she did. That was the difference between her and Elaina. Elaina loved clothes. Vicky barely tolerated shopping. Elaina enjoyed weekly manicures. Vicky bit her nails. Elaina entertained. Vicky hid in her room. It’d been a source of stress between the two of them for years.

“Mom, I hate to disappoint you, but I’m really committed to my new job.”

“Yes, but you can do that job from New York, right?”

“I have to go where I’m needed.”

“
I
need you, pumpkin.”

That was so typical of her mom. When all else failed, try guilt. But Vicky knew better than to fall for it. Her mom didn’t really need her. She never had. Even though Vicky knew she loved her, and Vicky loved Elaina, there was still a part of her—a tiny part of her—that wondered if it was all an act. Her mom and dad had never had any more kids. Vicky had overheard Elaina explain once that she didn’t want the hassle of another child. That had stung. Even though Elaina had always treated Vicky like her own, there was still a sort of…distance between the two of them.

“Mom, I know you miss me, but I’ll be back home for a visit soon.” Probably sooner rather than later.

Another long pause, and then a sigh followed by, “Fine. Just remember, if it doesn’t work out, there’s always the firm.”

“I know, Mom. Thanks.”

Another sigh. “Call me when you’ve found a place to live.”

You can move in with me.

Vicky winced at the memory of Brandon’s words. “I will.”

The phone snapped closed with more force than Vicky intended. Why had she answered it? She should have known her mom would only muddy the waters of her mind.

Call Scott now,
she told herself.

Instead Vicky just sat down on the end of the bed. She knew Scott wouldn’t lose any sleep if she quit. And if she told him she didn’t want to work with Brandon anymore, which was another option, she had a feeling he’d tell her that SSI didn’t want to work with her, either.

“Crap,” she muttered to herself.

But working with Brandon…

What if he kissed her again? What then?

Let him.

After all, she’d resisted him once. She could do so again. It wasn’t as if he was serious. He was just playing some stupid game, although why he’d decided to play it with
her,
she had no idea.

The phone rang again. She checked the display. It was Scott. She pressed the no button when the display asked her if she wanted to take the call. But two seconds later, the walkie-talkie feature kicked in with a
chirp.

“Vickyyyyy,” drawled a seriously irritated voice over the microphone system that allowed her to hear her boss speak. “Oh, Viiiick-yyyy.”

Drat it all. She’d forgotten about Direct Connect.

“Look,” she heard him say. “Brandon told me what happened and I have a feeling that’s why you’re not answering my calls.”

Brandon had told Scott about kissing her?

“You don’t have to be afraid to tell me you need to go home. I might be your boss, but I’m not completely inhumane. I mean,” he said, “I can’t imagine what your mom must be going through.”

Wait. What the hell was he talking about?

“I’m sure you’ll want to be there when the doctors give your mom the prognosis. Any idea if she’s ever going to walk again?”

Reluctantly, she pressed the connect button. “Hey, Scott,” she said with false brightness.

“Vicky. There you are. Great. How’s your mom?”

“Um, she’s doing just fine, Scott,” wondering what the heck Brandon had told him.

“Look, I’m not a
complete
jerk. I can’t believe you were afraid to call me and ask for time off. Look, I’ll have one of the administrative assistants arrange a flight back home. Take a couple weeks. When your mom’s stable, you can come back to work. Of course, it’ll have to be unpaid leave. Human Resources says you haven’t accrued any time off. But I’m sure you’ll cope. All that matters is your mom.”

And at last Vicky understood what Brandon had done—given her a way out.

“Scott, really, I don’t think it’s necessary that I leave.”

Vicky couldn’t believe she said the words.

“Vicky, honey, you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she said. “I’ll stick around. Wait it out. My, um, dad said he’d call if there was any change.”

“Wow, Vicky, way to be a team player,” Scott said. “I’m impressed.”

“Um, thanks,” Vicky said.

What was she doing?
She ought to get out while the going was good because there was no denying the truth. She wasn’t really mad at Brandon for kissing her, or worried that he’d do it again. He was just that kind of guy—the kind of man—that liked women. What had her worried was that there was a chance that she wouldn’t have the willpower to stop him if he kissed her again.

“That’s just great, Vic,” Scott said. “Frankly, I was a little worried if you took a week off, we might have to let you go, but you just reassured me that I made the right choice when I hired you. How are you and Brandon getting along, by the way?”

“Great,” she muttered. “He invited me to move in with him.”

“He did? That’s great!”

Vicky blanched. “Scott, it was a joke.”

“But it’s a great idea. Last time I was down there, he offered to let me use his nanny quarters. I didn’t end up staying there, but why shouldn’t you? After all, if you moved in, you’d be able to keep an even closer eye on our boy.”

“Scott, no, I really don’t think that’d be wise.”

“Oh, but I think so.”

“I need my privacy. And, frankly, I doubt Brandon would go along.”

“He’ll go along.”

“No, Scott. It’s a bad idea.”

“It’s a
great
idea. Remember, Vic…personal attention. That’s how we’re going to make him a star. Go out and take a look, at least. Couldn’t hurt.”

“But, Scott—”

“Got to go. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.” She heard one last chirp, and then her boss was gone.

“Bye,” Vicky mumbled, clutching her head. Why the heck had she mentioned moving in with Brandon?