Newlywed Games (28 page)

“You can tell me on the way to wherever it is I’m taking you.”

“My place, please.”

She pulled out and headed down the road. “Start talking. We haven’t got all day. My bosses are nice, but there is a limit to how far I can push their patience.”

Meghann told her about the flowers Bruce had brought her, about the cross necklace and the continued
patience and kindness he showed her.

Jenn frowned, clearly confused. “It sounds to me like he could very well have feelings for you.”

“That’s what I thought, or should I say
hoped,
until today.” She took a deep breath. What would Bruce want from her when all was said and done? She didn’t know. And right now, she didn’t care. “Bruce Halloway isn’t just the assistant manager of the Palace Hotel; he owns it.”

Jenn stared at her. “Owns it? The whole thing?”

“That and twenty-seven million other things.” She met her friend’s stunned gaze. “Green things. With numbers and George Washingtons on them.”

“Are you telling me your boss is a millionaire?”

“Several times over. Here I was thinking he was this wonderful man who’d jumped in to help me out.” She shook her head. “When all the time he’s just some aristocrat playing a game, seeing if he can get away with it.”

“Poor little rich boy?”

“Something like that.” She hung her head. Her misery was so acute that it was physically painful. “I’m such a fool.” Her mind was languid, without hope. “When I try to pray, I get nowhere, like I’m saying nothing at all. I feel like I’m in front of a locked door; no matter how hard I bang, it won’t open.”

Jennifer pulled her car into Meghann’s gravel driveway and stopped. “Are you sure you want me to leave you here alone?”

“I’m not alone. Lucky is already at the gate. I’ve got a key under the porch lip.”

“I’ll pray for you.” Jenn squeezed Meghann’s hand.

Meghann stared at her friend, surprised.

Jenn shrugged. “Let’s just say I’m starting to understand there’s more to this God thing than I realized. And I need to get more serious about it all.” She smiled. “Besides, you’re my friend, and I figure the best one to work all this out is God. Right?”

Meg choked back a laugh. “Right.” But even as she said it, she doubted He would do so. Why would He? She’d gotten herself into this mess by going against Him. Why would He step in and make it all work out now that things were truly a disaster?

She squeezed Jenn’s hand before getting out. “Thanks, Jenn. I need a lot of prayer now.” And that was as true as it got.

An hour later, Bruce pulled his car up in front of Meghann’s house.

She was there, sitting on the front porch steps.

The misery on her face cut him deep, and he wished again he’d never left that afternoon, never given his father the opportunity to pull that idiotic stunt.

Never given him the chance to let the truth come out?

Yeah. That too.

With a heavy sigh, he stepped from the car and went to cautiously sit beside Meghann on the steps. She didn’t look up at him.

“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable inside?” he asked after a moment of silence, pointing at the yellow door with one key, unsure of how she would respond to him after what she’d found out about him.

“I don’t have my keys.” Her tone was even, unemotional.

“And I have your spare.” He handed her his key ring with her key on it.

She held up her hand to stop him. “I’m fine. I’ll stay out here.” Now her words were curt.

He fiddled with the ring of keys, outlining hers with his thumb. “Are you mad at me?” He closed his eyes.
Dumb, Halloway. Dumb, dumb, question.
“Let me rephrase that. How mad are you?”

“I’m not mad. Not anymore. But you make more sense now.”

She was talking to him, which was a good sign. “How so?”

“Your car.” She pointed to the red ‘Vette in the driveway. “Correction,
cars.
Your apartment, or should I say penthouse. The way you talk about Mr. Phenton, like he’s not your boss.” She snapped her fingers. “That’s right, he’s not. You’re his boss. Your clothes, your manner, Charmaine Altman…”

With each item, shadows of his past reared their vile heads to taunt him. He wanted to avoid it all—especially the subject of Charmaine—all together. “I blew it, huh? I guess I’m not so good at pretending, after all.”

“Oh, I’d say you’re very good at it. You had me fooled. On all fronts. You did a great job of playing the sincere worker, and of acting the devoted husband.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“I just don’t understand why you weren’t honest with me.”

He took a deep breath. “Because of Charmaine
Altman—” he held up his hand at her sharp look—“and people like her. All my life people have treated me like a king when it suited their purposes because of my money. Fair-weather friends and all that. People aren’t themselves. It doesn’t take long before you question everyone’s motive, every action and word. I let myself grow skeptical, and I sure didn’t think I could trust anyone. I just wanted to be a normal guy struggling to make a living. I didn’t want special treatment for once in my life. The hotel was my inspiration.”

Father, how do I help her understand?

Tell the truth, son.

He sighed.
Of course.
There had been too many lies for too long.
Help me do this right.

“Meg, I never meant to mislead you. Or anyone. I just didn’t see any reason to announce to everyone that I was the owner of the hotel, or that I was a multimillionaire. Both of my parents came from money. And for some reason, my grandfather decided to leave the bulk of his estate to me. At the time, I was thrilled. I took that money and made more money.”

She nodded in understanding. But could she truly understand? He had hurt her with his deception. He wanted to correct that, but how? Once trust was broken it was not easily mended.

“I should have been straight with everyone. Especially with you. But I was afraid…and it was easier to pretend I was just like everyone else. Just a guy working at a job he liked, doing his best to make a living. So I took the easy way out. It wasn’t right, but I did it.”

She met his gaze. He knew she understood that
part of it, at least. Wasn’t that very fact what had gotten them into the mess they were in?

“Was I just stupid not to notice you were rich?” She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “And I worried you could be into something illegal.”

She’d worried about him? That was good, wasn’t it? “No, you are not stupid. You were distracted by your mom’s illness.”

“That’s not all I was distracted by,” she muttered.

“What was that?”

She huffed out a breath. “Nothing.”

“Did you really think I was doing something illegal?”

“Well, not really. It didn’t seem to fit you, but I didn’t know how else you could afford all that stuff.”

They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, then Bruce turned to her. “Do you want to go back now?”

“No.”

At the soft word, his hopes plummeted. She wasn’t coming back? She was leaving? But how would he work all of this out if she didn’t—

“But I will.”

Relief swept him and he met her gaze.

“I don’t want to go back there. I’m tired of the charade, tired of the lies. But you were right when you said we couldn’t back out now. As much as I don’t want to do this, I realize I can’t just leave you in the lurch with your family. It’s my fault we’re in this—”

He started to protest, and she held her hand up.

“So the least I can do is play it out as long as your parents are here.”

She stood and headed solemnly to his car. It was as though the whole thing had ripped the life, the spirit, out of her. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and make her smile again.

But at least she was coming back with him. That meant he had time. Time to be with her, time to talk with her, time to let her see he could be trusted. His task was enormous, but he would give it all he had. He would win her over before his family left.

He may have three strikes against him, but he wasn’t out yet.

T
HE FOLLOWING EVENING
, B
ROCK STEPPED OUT ONTO THE
balcony where Meghann gazed out at the city lights. She’d come out to soak in the sights, determined to enjoy this panoramic picture—the majestic mountains to the west and the city lights glimmering to the north and east while the opportunity lasted.

Heaven knew she wouldn’t see it again when this was over.

After a quick scan of the horizon, Brock turned and leaned his back against the rail. “Pretty impressive.” Though he spoke of the view, he stood studying her.

“I’m going to go in now,” Meghann said, uncomfortable with him staring at her.

“Don’t run off on my account.” He covered her hand with his. She tried to pull away, but he held fast to her and wouldn’t let go, even when she tried to jerk free of him.

“Meghann, you are one beautiful woman,” he said in a low, husky voice as his thumb caressed the back of her hand.

She looked up at him startled and yanked her hand from his grasp. What was wrong with him?

“Excuse me,” she said, her voice cold. But before she could walk away, he caught her, pulling her back, trapping her against the rail with one hand on each side of her, caging her in.

“So, it’s not me, eh?” His expression changed from endearing to a critical scrutiny. “Is it another man, perhaps?”

“What?” She kept her hands braced against his chest, providing some kind of barrier…though he wasn’t pushing forward.

“I know it’s not my brother’s money, because you didn’t even know he had any, did you?”

She shook her head. “Of course not!” What was he talking about?

“Or are you that good of an actress?”

The man was insane. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let me go.”

“Something is not right here.” Brock’s words were cold, exacting. “I’ve seen it in Bruce’s eyes.”

“Well, bully for you. Why don’t you go ask him, then?”

But for all of her bravado, Meg’s heart sank. First her mother had seen things were not right, and now Bruce’s brother was picking up on it. Trapped in her own lie, she felt defeated.

“It’s there in his eyes, distrust. I thought maybe it was me, but you don’t seem to be attracted to me. Or are you just playing at some kind of game?”

What had gotten into him? He was being ridiculous.
“Let me go!” She pushed on his arm to escape, to no avail.

He held tightly to the rail. “Not until you tell me why Bruce doesn’t trust you. I won’t let you hurt my brother and get away with it.” Meg stared at him, her mouth dropping open. So Brock really did care about his older brother. Oh, if only she could tell him the truth…tell him she loved Bruce with all her heart, that she’d never hurt him, that she was dying inside because she knew she’d never be with him.

But she held her silence. She’d promised Bruce not to say anything, and she wouldn’t go back on that. All she could do was stare up at him, grasping for something to say to him to make him release her.

His gaze bore into hers. “What have you done to lose my brother’s trust?”

“You don’t have to answer that.” Bruce’s dark voice made them both jump.

Meghann looked from Bruce, who stood in the doorway, to Brock. The younger brother dropped his hands, then stepped aside. Bruce glared at the back of Brock’s head.

Brother against brother. And she was the cause.

“I lied.” The whispered admission came out before she could stop it.

Brock’s expression changed from condemning to a surprised questioning. Before she gave herself away any further, she moved away from him, heading for the French doors and her escape. Bruce stopped her with a light touch on her arm. She waited, and he lifted her face until her eyes met his. “I do trust you.”

How? After lies on top of lies, each one eating away at her soul. She could no longer stand herself. No longer trust herself, her integrity. How could Bruce possibly trust her after all the pain she’d caused him?

She searched his eyes for the truth, but it was useless. Sometimes she wondered if she would even know the truth anymore.

She went inside without a word. How could she say anything? How could he believe a word she said after all her deceit?

“How can you say that?”

Bruce turned to face his brother, pondering his frustrated question.

“Your wife just admitted lying. How can you trust her?”

“I understand why she did what she did.” His patience was wearing thin with his brother. He saw the way Brock had Meg trapped against the rail.

“You’re defending her, condoning her actions?”

He drew in a calming breath. “I’m neither condoning nor defending, only understanding.”

“But trusting her? That is unwise, brother.”

His use of the term
brother
rankled Bruce. “I’m not going to discuss Meghann with you,” he snapped and turned to leave but stopped when Brock threw another curt statement at him.

“How does lying fit in with your religion? Your so-called faith?”