Southern Charmed Billionaire (22 page)

“A boy!”
 

“Oh
,
that's wonderful!”
 

“Welcome to the family, Kate!”
 

“Um, thank you!”
 

“Well that is certainly interesting indeed. Such fascinating news. I have some fascinating news to share as well.” Brittany
interrupted the conversation
with a menacing tone.
 

“Oh
yeah?
W
hat's that?”
 

“Oh
,
just some strange article that is ou
tright claiming
– Kate?
 I don't know
if you want me to read this out loud
,” she sneered. “
It may not be appropriate
for table
discussion.”
 

“What?”
 

“
Brittany
what are you doing? Cut the antics.” Granddaddy
scolded
.
 

Outraged by the rebuff, she refused to back down.
“What am
I
doing?
I think the
real question is
-
and should be
-
what is
she
doing and what game is she playing
?
We've all been played.”
 

My heart
leapt to
my throat. Had we been
discovered
already?
 

“What are you talking about?” Atticus
spoke in
a low rumble. H
is eyes were narrow, a cl
e
ar indication that
he
was angry
with
his
sister’s scene-stealing antics
for sure. No doubt about it.
 

“Oh it’s just about your real identity and what you
really
are. Who you are
,” she persisted. Her tone was haughty, confident, and full of malice. I looked her straight in the eyes, trying to determine what she meant.
 

“
Brittany
,
that's enough.”
 

 “I can't hold it
.
I can't. She's an escort and she
’s
in it for Atticus's money. Here is her little plan
. I
t's printed all over the gossip columns. See!”
 

My face grew hot.
What
!
?
 

She slammed the
evidence
on the table for all to see.
There it was, my dream book
, posted all over the pages of a supermarket tabloid
. My dream
book full of
work
;
I poured my whispers, my heart and desires in
it
.
That book was close to my soul; it the keeper of my secrets
and my
life
planner.
 

Now the entire world saw my heart. Saw my debt. Saw my plan.
Saw my secrets
.
 

“I'm not what you say I am!”
 

“Oh honey, but you are
,” she oozed viciously
.
“
Why don't you own up to it?”
 

Escort
?
 

I surveyed the serious faces that eye
d
me curiously
,
as if
they were seriously
considering the possibility. I didn't know what to say. I certainly was not expecting that
kind of bombshell.
 

I was embarrassed, soooooo embarrassed
, and
I didn't even know the
proper
protocol
on how
to dismiss myself. All I could do was run out of the room before I
broke down
and cried
buckets of tears in front of them all.
 

“Now
Brittany
was that necessary?” was the last thing I heard
as I escaped the
loud commotion of
the
growing
family
circus.
 

Chapter Twenty-Three
 

Atticus
 

"I'm leaving. I can't be here." She confessed her feelings in hushed tones. I expected her to lash out, to scream at the top of her lungs at the ridiculous accusation. But she was so quiet. The weight of the world was on her shoulders, a position I realized, (from her confession to me this weekend), that she was familiar with.
 

My heart broke into a thousand tiny pieces seeing her emerald eyes embroiled in pain.
I
had caused that pain.
I
had fucked everything up. I should have kept her away from my evil sister and her even wickeder best friend, the woman who shared my deepest secret and regret.
 

"Kate, please. Please stay. I'm so sorry. I don't know how this got out."
 

Her head collapsed into her frail hands, the same busy hands that kept her up at night and woke her up at dawn to make something of her life. They were hands I wanted to hold now, to protect from this cruel, cruel world.
 

They now remained very still as if steadying her entire life. I wanted to be that anchor for her now; I never realized it until this weekend. Sure, she was an inspiration, an intense ray of might
for my artist soul.
 

She had a gorgeous body, curves to kill, eyes of a tiger, the face of an angel, lips of satin and a kiss to make a man grow mad, but there was deepness to her I never realized or knew until she shared her own scars with me.
 

It was as if the pain, were in some way a door to my locked heart. It wasn't that I wanted to see anyone in pain, but living in this rich Southern social bubble, people masked their shadows with beautiful art encased in the latest fashions, the shiniest most expensive cars, the most elaborate parties to rival F. Scott Fitzgerald himself.
 

She walked into my world and had a light of innocence and strong will that had purpose beyond this carnal reality. She had so much what Granddaddy called “umph,” which is why he liked her so much.
 

Which is why I love her so much.
 

Love.
 

Love knows when it's love even after days. This isn't like. This isn't a game, an experiment anymore. When that door opened in my heart, when something became
blazingly obvious that I had to have it in my life, that I needed it, well, the genes of my Granddaddy kicked in and there was no stopping me. Come flood, high wind, hail, blizzard, fire and brimstone, I'd get it. I'd have it.
 

Because that's what we Branches do.
 

Our roots run deep to withstand the tests. Now it was time to clean up shop and end this circus.
 

"I don't know how it works leaving here, the Branch Estate. Obviously I don't have a car, and I can't drive a helicopter."
 

I hated to break it to her but with the weather conditions, so cloudy and stormy, it wasn't going to be an option.
 

"But I'm not stupid. I know it’s not exactly the prime time to fly with this weather. Can someone just please drive me back ho- I mean to the city? I'll pay whomever. I just can't be here."
 

"You don't need to pay anyone anything! I wish you would stay, Kate."
 

She shook her head with more emotion. Fire ran down my sternum. Pure anger. That witch deserved major punishment in hell for what she did with that gossip column.
 

A part of my stomach turned realizing perhaps I deserved a place as well. I shook my head, setting my eyes like flint.
 

"Our estate is tens of thousands of feet. You can stay in the guest quarters if you would like. No one will bother you. No one. Not even me." I added that last part just to assure her I’d leave her alone if she wanted.
 

"Oh... Happy
fucking
Easter. I'm alone again on a holiday." Her eyes welled up in buckets of tears. My heart ripped even more. I just couldn’t seem to find the right words to say at the moment.
 

“You know, just when I thought I was fitting in with a family, you know, aside from your bitchy—and I am sorry Atticus but there is no other way to label your sister but bitchy,” she spat. “Just when I felt what it was like to be in a Hallmark movie, playing games with others in a family where everyone actually liked each other… Singing by the fire, the grand picturesque dining room table filled with laughter and stories by your grandfather from living in the glory days of the fiftys. I mean, he has stories of Henry Ford—I mean, it—it’s a dream! A dream! I should have known it was too good to be
true.”
 

She bit her lip to control her sorrow. “I should have pinched myself, slapped myself back into reality. Reminded myself that this was just a game. An act. You know, Lacey and I made plans, you know? She opened up to me about wanting to come into the city and try to be a little bit more independent. She said she trusted me and wanted me to come with her to New York to start on her modeling portfolio. Do you know how good it felt? To feel like I inspired someone out of her shell? Do you know how much I was looking forward to that? And now that’s all gone!"
 

I couldn't help it. I grabbed the back of her neck almost with too much force. I had to kiss her. I had to take all the pain away. I had to show her this was real. I explored her tongue with great might and intent, driven to communicate what words couldn’t say. She fought against me with every ounce of might in her before surrendering, melting, just a tad.
 

Could I bring down her walls?
 

Her eager firm push against me proved otherwise.
 

"This isn’t fixable with a kiss! You don't get it! I've worked hard for every single damn thing in my life, and now it's fucked up! I am nobody's whore! No one’s!” She roared. “I'm no one’s toy, no one’s girl! I don't need a man! I don't need your money! I don't need a family! I will make my own luck!”
 

She stepped back, leveraging the distance between us to look me square in the eyes. “One thing you don't know about me, Atticus: I'm determined. Alright? You said you admired that about me. Well, it's a trait of being a Scorpio. And I'm a Scorpio through and through. But one thing about we scorpions, you don't
fuck
with us. We don't move on easily. In fact, you're lucky if we ever do. But if you treat us right, we're loyal for life, the best of friends, and the best of lovers!"
 

She grabbed her purse, her beloved sketchbook, and her phone.
 

"If I have to walk back to Charlestown, I will! But this?! I will make
this
happen.” She held her sketchbook up, shaking it. “I don't care about this pretentiously elitist world anymore. I've made up my mind about you people! I'm leaving. You can't hurt a heart that doesn't care anymore."
 

She stormed out of the kitchen with a mission to find the closet door leading to an
outside. She didn't even have a jacket on! I marched after her, making a beeline through the sitting room. A dark figure startled my peripheral vision; granddaddy with a scotch in his hand.
 

I sighed and stopped for a bit. "How much did you hear of that conversation?"
 

It would kill me if he knew I had made up this scheme just for him.
 

"Enough. If you don't go after her, son. You better believe, I sure will. You need to make all this right, and I mean now. It's unbecoming of a gentleman to cause so much distress in a lady." He spoke calmly, yet with a strict edge of certainty. I’d messed up, and he’d known it as strongly as I.
 

Chest pains pounded my heart and I fought to breathe.
Am I old enough for a heart attack?
"Are you okay, granddaddy? With the cancer making you weak—” My hand went out to him feet away.
 

"Your concern should be her." His slow authoritative fatherly twang was chilling. “You brought her into this family, into this home. You make sure she stays welcome. Regardless of feeble rumors.”
 

I picked up speed running after Kate. She had turned the corner towards the north of our estate and turned elsewhere.
 

"Kate! Kate!" It was indecent for a Branch gentlemen to yell after or at a lady, but it was the only way to find her.
 

"Kate!" I never thought I'd curse the size of my estate.
 

"There you are... I've been looking for you."
 

Clarissa’s touch against my chest was precisely like a slithering snake, deceptive, menacing and calculating, encircling its prey like a wild python.
 

As if she were a ghost, I pushed past her, looking beyond her in search for Kate. My eyes squinted far out the windows to see if her brunette hair was bouncing with purpose in the snow. Like a skilled hunter I scanned the outside scene for her. No sign yet.
 

"Looking for something?" Clarissa took a step in front of me, keeping me from my view. Her voice purred like a well-practiced Cheshire cat with the skill of Delilah tempting Goliath. She wasn't going to go cut off my strength; I wouldn't let her.