Step Brother: Off Limits (3 page)

I was never going to get past the feeling that he just wanted a blow job in his car. Those pictures were going to haunt me for the rest of my life, and I wanted to strangle Reed for it. Even though I was the one who’d made the lousy decision to have sex in the car, he’d known there might have been photographers looking to snag a picture of Gordon Gentry’s son, and he hadn’t shared that information with me. I couldn’t ever trust him again, and I wasn’t going to be with a man I couldn’t trust.

By the time I got home that evening, I felt like a new woman. I had a shiny new ’do, perfectly polished fingers and toes, and I’d even gotten a facial. Since I knew Tina was likely to be dressed to the nines, and I didn’t want to give her another reason—other than sleeping with her son—to criticize me, I’d even shopped for a new dress and shoes.

“Well, look at you,” Garrett said as I came through the front door. “New hair, nails done. You have a hot date?”

“I wish. I’m going to a thing at Dad’s tomorrow night. I figured I’d get myself into presentable shape.”

“You’d be better off getting yourself a date, honey.”

“Garrett, I’ve decided I may never date again. I feel like everyone I meet is imagining me half naked in a car. Reed Randolph has ruined my life.”

Garrett put his hands on his hips. “Tatum, you should hear yourself. You sound like a spoiled little girl. It wasn’t like Reed forced you to have sex in public. In fact, it looked like you were rather enjoying yourself. You need to quit blaming everything that’s wrong with your life on someone else.”

“But he knew how I felt. He knew how terrible it had been for me to have reporters following me around in high school, and he didn’t tell me his father was all famous and shit. He should have been honest.”

“And what would you have said if he’d told you?”

“Well, I don’t know. I never got the chance to say anything, because by the time I found out, my pictures were already splashed all over the tabloids.”

“Tatum, I know you really liked Reed, and I understand your feeling like he wasn’t as open with you as he should have been. But the pictures—those weren’t his fault. It’s not like he called the reporters and put on a show to get publicity, did he?”

“Well, no.”

“You’re holding him responsible for something that was completely out of his control, and can I be honest with you?”

“Good grief, Garrett, I’m not sure I can take much more of your honesty.”

“You’re a little ridiculous about the privacy thing. I get that it was hard to have cameras in your face when your dad was going to prison, but those days are over. Your dad paid his debt to society, and he’s turned over a new leaf.”

“I’m not so sure about that. And his campaign means more reporters. It’s like every nightmare I’ve ever had is coming true all at once.”

“Nightmare? Really?”

“Garrett, my picture was all over the place.”

“So you slept with your stepbrother, really liked him, and there were a few pictures of you having the time of your life. That’s your tragedy?”

“You really think I’m being ridiculous, don’t you?”

“I do. Instead of enjoying your getaway with Reed, you threw a temper tantrum, and now you’ve completely shut out the only man who really interested you—at least for as long as I’ve known you.”

“But he should have…”

Garrett held his hand up in front of my face. “But he didn’t. You can’t change what happened, honey. Be honest. Did you like Reed?”

“Yes.”

“Was the sex good?”

I blushed. “Yes.”

“Is he smart?”

“Yeah.” I could hear the tone of my voice starting to get sulky.

“Is he successful?”

“Yeah.”

“Was he interested in you before you acted like a child and refused to talk to him?”

“Yeah, but he should have…”

“Quit. It. Just stop. You’re throwing a fit and shutting out a smart, sexy, successful man who genuinely cares about you because things didn’t go exactly the way you wanted them to. You need to think about that, and you need to make sure the life you’re setting yourself up for is really the one you want. I see you ending up as a lonely, bitter woman if you can’t learn to be a little more flexible.”

I stood there, aghast, completely unable to summon a single word in my defense.

“And speaking of flexible, you’re gonna get your ass to the morning yoga class with me.”

I didn’t know what to say about Garrett’s sharp criticism of me, but I did know I didn’t want to get up any earlier. “Yoga? I’m already killing myself in your fucking bootcamp.”

“Variety, my dear Tatum. It’s good for you.”

He left the house, probably on his way to his gym to torture someone else besides me for a change, and I stood in the kitchen, trying to wrap my head around what he’d said to me. I didn’t want to think about whether I’d been unrealistic and overly demanding. I didn’t want to think about Reed or the fact that the man I’d been falling in love with was halfway across the world—all because I’d acted like a petulant child.

I think part of me knew Garrett was right, but I certainly didn’t want to dwell on it. Assuming Garrett was going to roust me out of bed early in the morning, I took refuge the only way I could think of—in bed with a Netflix marathon and a pint of ice cream.

When Garrett knocked on my door in the morning, I felt better than I had in a while. I’d slept well, and I realized there was some truth in what he’d said. I did need to move on, and I figured a new class might be a step in the right direction.

The yoga class actually helped me clear my mind, and I found myself better prepared for a challenging day at work. We took depositions in the biggest case I’d been assigned to yet, and not only was I well prepared with all the information the attorney in charge needed, but I was also able to point out an inconsistency that he’d missed between the day’s testimony and the job application of the person in question. The junior partner who’d listened while I explained the discrepancy told my boss I’d done exceptional work.

I left the office feeling positive and strong—the first time I’d felt that way since those terrible pictures of me had come out. The feeling lasted until I pulled up in front of my dad’s house.

“Tatum, darling, we’re so glad you could make it.” Tina, dripping in diamonds, turned to the valet they had hired for the evening. “Paul, please pull Tatum’s car around to the back. We’re trying to cultivate an aura of luxury out in front here.”

I’m sure my eyes looked like saucers as I handed my keys to the valet. “Sorry to spoil the illusion, Tina. I’ve been so busy at work, I haven’t gotten around to buying a new car yet.”

“Don’t worry about it, Tatum. I’m sure you’ll find something more appropriate for the daughter of our future mayor soon enough.” She put her hand through my arm as she led me inside. “I’ve just found that people are more willing to part with their money if they believe you don’t actually need it.” Her fake laugh echoed throughout the polished marble entryway. “You look lovely, by the way. I’m so glad to see you’ve found a better hair stylist. You’re such a pretty girl, it was a shame your hair was so … well … frumpy. A vast improvement, my dear.”

“Um, thanks, I think.” I followed her through the dining room and into the enormous living room. “Wow, the lights in the pool look awesome.” Hundreds of little lights danced on the surface of the freeform in-ground pool out back, and portable heaters were positioned to warm up the terrace on an evening that would have felt warm to anyone except Las Vegas natives.

“Hm.” Tina looked a little irritated. “I wanted to handle the decorations myself—you know how talented I am—but your father insisted we hire a professional. I thought the lights were tacky, personally, but I guess there’s no accounting for taste.”

“They’re really lovely,” I said, wondering what atrocities Tina would have committed in the name of being festive. “Where’s Dad?”

“He’s in his study with one of the new guys on the campaign. Actually, he wants you to meet Stanford. He’s about your age, and he’s been such a huge help with coordinating everything. Why don’t you go in and let Donald know you’re here.”

Thrilled to have any excuse to escape from Tina, I headed for the study, knocking on the door before opening it. “Dad?” I called as I stepped inside.

“Tatum, honey, I’m so glad you’re here.” Dad folded me into a big hug and stepped back to look at me. “You look wonderful. Did you do something different?”

“Just an overdue haircut, Dad. It’s good to see you, too.”

“Tatum, this is Stanford Boyle, my new right-hand man. I can’t tell you what a godsend he’s been.”

I reached out to shake Stanford’s hand and size him up. He was a little taller than I was, but definitely shorter than Reed. His sandy blond hair was cut short, and he reminded me a lot of my first serious boyfriend, Thompson, all moneyed good looks and casual charm that takes everyone for granted. His conservative suit was a clone of my father’s right down to the American flag pin on his lapel, and there was something about him that reminded me of an eager, excited puppy.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tatum,” he said, holding my hand a little longer than was necessary. “Donald has told me a lot about you, and he sure is proud of his baby girl. You’ve recently started with one of the law firms in town, right?”

“I did. It’s exciting and challenging work. Exactly what I needed.”

Dad sat on one of the leather couches. “Have a seat, Tatum. Stanford was just telling me about some of the big hitters we’re hoping to get donations from tonight.”

“You don’t mind if we talk shop for a minute, Tatum? I wouldn’t want to bore you.” Stanford’s expression was all earnest intensity and sucking up.

“No, it’s fine.” I certainly didn’t want to head back out and take the chance of being cornered by Tina.

Stanford opened a manila folder. “So Judge Callaway is not a fan of the current mayor. He’s said repeatedly that the man’s an idiot and needs to be replaced. Donald, tonight is the night to convince him you’re the man to do it.”

“A judge’s salary doesn’t get us very far,” Dad said, shaking his head. “I’m trailing Bowers by millions in fundraising.”

“Don’t worry. My extensive research has showed it always takes a while to build up the war chest when you’re fighting an incumbent. We’re exactly on track according to my projections. This evening’s going to make a big splash, and once people see dollars flowing your way, you’ll see. Success breeds success, and I don’t ever lose.”

I looked over at my dad, curious about his response to such bold words.

“I’ve put a lot of faith in you, Stanford. I hope you’re right.”

“I am. That’s why you hired me. And as far as Callaway goes, it’s not his pittance of a salary that got him invited. It’s his wife’s trust fund. She’s worth more money than you and I will ever see. And he loves to spend it.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear. So I’ll make sure to spend some time with Callaway. Who else should be top priority?”

“Make sure you talk to Jessie Sanchez, too, but make sure her husband is with her. He’s notoriously jealous, and we’re playing up your newlywed status to pull in female votes. She’s been known to ever so subtly trash candidates she doesn’t like on the air, and that morning news slot is still a powerful tool. We want her on our side, more for publicity than for the money. She’ll also help with the ‘ethnic vote.’”

The air quotes seemed a little much to me, but my dad was nodding his agreement.

“Got it. Now is there anyone you want Tina to focus on? She’s great with people, and she ain’t exactly hard on the eyes.”

Stanford glanced my way, and I could sense that he felt uncomfortable. “I thought maybe we could have Tina and Tatum work together. Two gorgeous women can be a powerful thing, and I’m just concerned Tina will … um … slip up and fall back into her older speech patterns or make some sort of social error. While we want to play up her charitable work, we don’t want anyone poking around in her past, if you know what I mean.” Stanford bent down a bit, as if he were talking to a child. “Do you mind helping Daddy out, Tatum? We could really use your support.”

I leaned back. The guy was fucking ridiculous. Was he really talking to me like a child? Had he really referred to his boss as my daddy?

“Got it.” Dad turned to me. “Mind keeping Tina company, sweetheart? You know what campaigns are like. She doesn’t, at least not yet.”

Even though I was dreading an evening of making small talk with wealthy people just to get them to write my father a check, and even though Stanford made my skin crawl, I knew it was important to my dad.

“Tatum, having you here is really going to poll well,” Stanford said, flipping through another folder. “My extensive research has shown one of the concerns voters have raised about Donald’s candidacy is their perception that he’s … well … had some ethical issues. Showing voters that he’s a family man will go a long way toward repairing his image.”

“When you put it that way, I feel all warm and fuzzy,” I said, not bothering to conceal my sarcasm.

Dad reached out and put his hand on my arm. “Tatum, I want to tell you something. I’m glad you’re here to support me, but mostly I’m glad you’re here because I love you, and I missed you when we didn’t see one another much. You’ll never know how happy I am you moved back here and have given me a second chance. I know you don’t like the spotlight, and that makes it mean even more when you come to things like tonight’s event.” He covered my hand with his. “Thank you for being here, Tatum.”

I felt like I was going to melt. I promised myself I wasn’t going to cry and make my mascara run. “You’re welcome, Dad. I’m glad to be here.” Strangely enough, I realized the words were true, and for the first time since the Reed photograph fiasco, I felt like I was taking charge of my life and moving in the right direction. I stood up. “I’ll go see if I can give Tina a hand.”

As I left the room, I could hear Stanford’s voice.

“She’s a gem, Donald. She’ll be great for your numbers.”

“What’s wrong?”

I could hear the concern in Marla’s voice, but I had no intention of going into my troubles with my father over the phone with her. “Nothing. I’m fine.”