Remember Me (16 page)

Lucy laughed. “I don’t know much about horses, but somehow I doubt it’s called test driving like you do a car.”

Angelina waved a careless hand. “Roberto promises me this one will be–what did he call it?–push button, like driving a car, so I figure it is a test drive.”

“You and Roberto are close?” Lucy couldn’t contain the fascination filling her about these new facets she was discovering in her boss’s mysterious personality.

Angelina’s lips curved. “Sometimes. He is not an easy man to be around.” She stepped inside. “Is that coffee I smell?”

Lucy showed her the studio first and was flattered by Angelina’s enthusiasm, especially for her glazed bowls. Once they’d settled in the living room with the coffee and fruit tray, though, the other woman got down to business, picking up the thread of their conversation from yesterday as if there hadn’t been more than half a day’s pause in it.

“So what I heard from you yesterday was you didn’t know who Brandon was?”

Lucy sipped her coffee. “I guess that sounds a little stupid. I mean, he did introduce himself as Brandon Barrett, but all he said was he worked for his father in their communications business. After the crash, when I discovered the communications business was Barrett Newspapers, I felt…” She sighed. “I don’t know, like he’d been vague on purpose, hoping I wouldn’t know who he was, hoping I was stupid enough…”

“You shouldn’t let your anger attribute words or thoughts to him he might never have had.”

“But why wouldn’t he just say it was Barrett Newspapers?”

Angelina’s eyes darkened as if at some thought of her own. “Perhaps he gets tired of people looking at his family and his business first before they ever see Brandon Barrett, the man.”

“How could anyone notice his name instead of him?” She shook her head. “And that tells you how fast I was falling.”

“Then why does such a minor discrepancy make such a difference to you?”

“Because someone like him would never hang around me. How could he? The business tycoon and the stripper? Please.”

Angelina sat back, her eyes narrowing. “Who did that to you?”

“Did what?”

“Made you feel like what you do somehow defines you as a person.”

“And doesn’t it? What person with his background is going to show up at the family compound with Jasmine LeFleur in tow, unless it’s to entertain at a bachelor party?”

“Was there someone in your past with prominent social connections like Brandon’s?”

“Yes!” Lucy hissed. “I was fine to have on his arm, fine to fuck, but never to bring home to Mommy and Daddy. I didn’t have the pearls or the sorority girl accent. I didn’t spend my summers at the beach house. I was the kid working behind the scenes, babysitting and earning money any way I could. I saw the way Brandon’s parents looked, and how they stared right through me…”

“So you walked away rather than risk being hurt?”

Lucy’s hands balled into fists. “I was already hurt! Inside and out. No, I didn’t have his injuries, but from the moment we arrived at the hospital, I ceased to exist. I had to get away. Not just because of that but because I feared the scrutiny. If everything I had done became public knowledge, after the cheers for being a hero died out, speculation would have started soon enough that something going on in-flight had led to the crash. We’ve all heard those stories about pilots who crash because someone wants an initiation into the mile-high club when what they should have been doing was flying the plane. What better person to be involved in that than a stripper?”

She jumped up and took her coffee mug into the kitchen. Angelina followed at a slower pace.

“So you will put this behind you and forget about him?”

Pain suffused her from head to toe. “Yes. Like he has me. It’s better this way.”

“For whom? Don’t you think you could be a key to helping him remember? And what about you? Would you have gone on with the nightmares and the overworking yourself until you got sick and couldn’t work?” She touched Lucy’s shoulder. “If you want to make the decision to put Brandon Barlow-Barrett in your past, then do it for the right reasons. Do it because you’re ready to move on with a new stage in your life, not because you’re running from what’s happened in your past.”

Lucy raised her chin. “I am moving on. I’m taking several pieces of my work to Mason Hatch this afternoon.”

Angelina leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Good. That’s a start. Drop by my place tomorrow afternoon. I want to hear about how things go with Mason’s evaluation of your work.”

Lucy nodded. “Thanks, Angelina.”

Once the other woman left, Lucy dressed with care for her meeting with Mason. She kept trying to tell herself it was neither to impress him nor was it in defiance of her feelings for Brandon. She wanted to look her best. Angelina was right. This was an opportunity for her to begin again. She could cut back on her hours at Flamingo Road, just dance the weekends, so she could spend all week long working with her clay. Once her work started selling… Lucy stopped. She was where she needed to be. She had a plan. And wasn’t that what Roberto had asked?

Two hours later, she was standing with her arms crossed across her chest and her stomach muscles fluttering while Mason took his time analyzing the pieces she’d brought in. He had said very little while he’d picked up each piece, turned it in every direction then set it again on the table in his office. Lucy’s stomach churned.

“You hate it, don’t you?” she blurted.

He paused and looked over at her as if he had forgotten her presence. “No.” He lifted a brightly glazed cup and saucer. “Can you recreate this glazing pattern with any consistency?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have an entire place-setting?”

“Yes.”

He raised one brow and smiled. “More than one?”

“Not at the moment, but I have enough pieces ready for glazing to create four place-settings.”

He smiled and waved her to a chair. “Have a seat, Lucy. Let’s talk about how we can work together.” He glanced at his watch. “Even better, let me take you to lunch so we can discuss it.”

She wasn’t sure she would be able to eat a bite, but she nodded. The next thing she knew, Mason was holding the door of a four-door Porsche. Lucy smiled.

“What’s the smile for?” Mason asked.

“A sports car you can carry people in?”

“I don’t like feeling cramped. It’s a good car.”

Lucy looked away to hide her grin. A good car. Right. Chances were good it had cost what she made in a year. Mason slid in behind the wheel and took her to a rather noisy deli a couple blocks off the water. It must have been a favorite of his because the waitresses greeted him by name, and the manager stopped by to speak to them while they waited for their sandwiches. When Lucy started to say something business-related, Mason stopped her.

“Eat first. We’ll talk business over coffee. They make a mean cheesecake here, too.”

Lucy ate, but could only get down about half her sandwich because she was so nervous. “Mason,” she said to get his attention. “Can you please just let me down easy and let’s get this over with.”

“Let you down?” He wiped his hands on his napkin and set it aside. “We’re here to talk about getting enough of your slab and coil abstracts in so I can set up a showing. While your glaze work on your practical pieces is superb, I can market it as high-end houseware, but your abstracts? You’ve hit on a technique and style that works. Now the smallest piece…” He went on to name a price tag for it that made her eyes widen.

“People will pay that?”

Mason grinned. “They will when I’m done marketing you.”

“I can’t believe it.”

He chuckled. “You will when I set the first check in your hand. Now, if you’re willing to have my company handle this, there is some paperwork we need to complete. If it’s agreeable with you, I’d like to do it over dinner tomorrow evening. Consider it a celebration.”

It was hard to refuse his invitation when it was phrased that way. Lucy was more than aware of the way he regarded her with warm appreciation, and she had the feeling he would be willing to take it further if she gave him the go ahead. But that wasn’t going to happen.

Lucy tilted her head to one side. “As friends, Mason, I’ll accept. But only in that light.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re involved with someone else?”

Lucy tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s complicated, but yes.”

Mason pursed his lips. “Friends it is. Friends and business associates. Suit you?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Give me your address and I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow. None of this meeting me there.”

Lucy laughed. There was something appealing in Mason’s brashness.

Chapter 11

“We’ll get you there in time, Tessa.” Seth sat with his wife in the backseat of his SUV while Brandon drove as fast as he dared to the hospital. “You remember your breathing.”

“Seth,” Tessa said with infinite patience. “I don’t think I need it yet. We’re a few hours away, but the doctor did want me to go ahead and check in. You know he’s been a little concerned about the size of the baby.”

Brandon glanced in the rearview mirror. Tessa looked and sounded calm, her tone now designed to reassure Seth. It was an eye-opening experience to see the elder brother who had chewed his way with little regard through secretary after secretary now pale and a bit sweaty-looking at the thought of his wife giving birth. This was the same brother who had, on several occasions, dodged Muslim extremists in order to get stories out of Afghanistan.

But the idea of his petite wife facing childbirth brought him to his knees. Brandon glanced in the rearview mirror yet again and saw Seth rest his head atop Tessa’s. For a second, his golden eyes filled, then he blinked, turned his face and kissed her dark red hair. Brandon shifted his gaze to the road and swallowed around the tightness in his throat. He hoped Seth realized how lucky he was, but he had a feeling his brother was more than aware. Seth and Tessa hadn’t had an easy time of it. Some of the fault lay at the feet of their father, now part of the reason they were even in town.

Brandon pulled into the emergency entrance of the hospital. “Stay with Tessa, Seth. I’ll find someone to help.”

The next hour passed in a flash. Brandon carried Tessa’s bag to the room, then promised to call their mother and siblings. When the doctor came in, he excused himself to begin those calls. Dad was now resting at home, but was by no means ready to be out and about following his bypass surgery, so Mother was staying close to his side.

Brandon informed her the birth of Seth and Tessa’s baby was imminent, but his mother’s response was typical. “My place is with your father right now. However, after the baby is born, you must let me know. I shall have Morgan bring me into town.”

He hung up the phone, wondering if his mother had ever done anything independently of her husband. His personality dominated the whole family. For Stacey, Phillip and Morgan, it had never seemed to be a problem. Seth and Preston–Anna, Brandon reminded himself–had actively fought the constraints. Brandon had managed to slip through, around and under them whenever possible. His skiing had kept him away a lot, but Seth had also been a shield. While his elder brother had knuckled under to the pressure to take on the mantle of Barrett Newspapers, Brandon had been able to play at it, no one ever taking him as a serious voice in the business.

He wandered to the hospital’s coffee shop and got something to eat. When he was through, he took his coffee to the maternity floor. He knocked on the door to Tessa’s room and heard Seth’s deep voice tell him to come in. She was seated in a rocking chair while Seth rubbed her feet.

Brandon quirked a brow. “Is this part of what you learn in the childbirth classes?”

Seth glared at him, once again on more of an even keel. “If you mean keeping her relaxed, then yes.”

Brandon chuckled. “I wanted to let you know I would hang out in the waiting room if you need me for anything.”

Tessa smiled. “You could hang out here if you want. It will be a while.”

Brandon’s stomach fluttered with nerves. “Uh, no. While I appreciate the thought, I think I’ll let the whole process remain a mystery for a while.”

Once he was in the waiting room, he pulled out his Droid and logged into the company email. He could at least get some work accomplished while he was there. Once he’d sorted through the business mail, he switched to his personal account, discovering Matt had sent him mail to let him know the mechanic investigators had questioned in the Cessna crash had been convicted of manslaughter. Brandon made a mental note to look up the court files and see if he could get hold of the transcripts. He also wanted to contact a private detective to help him find Lucy Cameron. They had unfinished business he wasn’t about to let go.

Right around the time he began to think about dinner, Seth appeared at the door of the waiting room, a broad smile on his tired face. Brandon shoved his Droid in his pocket and stood.

“It’s a girl,” Seth stated, then laughed. “A healthy, squalling, beautiful baby girl.”

Brandon wrapped him in a hug, felt Seth shaking. “How’s Tessa?”