by Karen Booth
“He sure did.”
“Do you want to tell me more about what happened between you two? Or are you going to stay vague about it, the way Johnathon did?”
* * *
Before he answered the question, Andrew had to remind himself of the entire reason he was back in town and now found himself in Miranda’s house. He was here to keep her safe and to meet the opportunity she’d put before him—to become a part of her life and her daughter’s. This was a delicate proposition and he wasn’t about to mess it up. He wanted to be closer to Miranda. But she was his brother’s widow, and if ever there was a woman he needed to see as off-limits, it was her. He would not step into his brother’s shoes.
Still, he’d gotten sucked right into Miranda’s sweet disposition as soon as he’d walked through the door, and now he was having to deal with that while confronted with an uncomfortable presence—the specter of his brother. It was all around him, this entire room a testament to his accomplishments and the many ways he’d triumphed, with Miranda at the heart of it all.
“You’re about to have his baby, Miranda. You were his wife. I don’t want my past with him to color the way you see him. It’s not fair to him. And it’s not fair to me, either, to be honest. I wouldn’t exactly be a good houseguest if I came in and told you stories about how Johnathon and I were rivals, or how he always seemed to get everything right and I was the one who made the mistakes.”
“He wasn’t perfect. There’s no need to worry about keeping him on a pedestal.”
He still wasn’t convinced. “Speaking ill of the dead is never a good idea.”
“I understand what you’re saying, but I’ve learned things since he died that were a total shock to the system.” Her eyes darted from side to side as if she was searching for something, but eventually she seemed to put it all together. “Wait a minute. You already know what I’m talking about, don’t you? The secret he hid from me?”
“No. I don’t know a thing.”
“But you orchestrated it. The email I got. The Sterling Enterprises IT department traced it back to your company. It was all part of the plan to disrupt the business at Sterling, wasn’t it?” Much like she had at dinner last night, she was becoming more and more upset. The color rose in her cheeks, while her eyes were full of pain he didn’t fully understand.
“I didn’t send any email, Miranda. I honestly don’t have any idea what you’re alluding to.”
“I got a message from Johnathon’s work account. It said he slept with Astrid, his second wife, after he and I got engaged. It was written like it came from Johnathon, but that part was just a cruel joke. Unfortunately, Astrid confirmed that it was all true. I think the information was leaked by a woman named Sandy, who worked at Sterling. If you don’t know about it, does that mean she’s connected to Victor?”
Andrew felt the blood go cold in his veins. This was a lot to unpack—his brother had betrayed Miranda, but the news had been delivered by Victor, courtesy of his heartless ways. It made one thing very clear for Andrew—his true loyalty needed to be to Miranda. She was the person with the most to lose, who had been hurt the most. “I’m so sorry Johnathon cheated on you. I had no idea.” He took no pleasure in seeing this chink in his brother’s perfect facade. It had come at too high a price for Miranda.
She wrapped her arms around her middle, as if she could shield herself from the world. “There’s nothing I can do about it. What’s done is done. I’ve come to terms with it.”
“It’s still a terrible betrayal.”
“It is, but it’s also an instance in which your brother was not perfect. So whatever it is that you think you need to live up to, I promise you that you can stop trying to compete.”
Andrew sighed and finally found the nerve to step into the room. It felt a bit like he was confronting the spirit of his brother, but right now, Andrew’s most important task was to comfort Miranda. He pulled her into his arms and held her tight. “It’s not about me right now.”
“So it wasn’t you who orchestrated the message? The email?”
“No.” He stood back slightly and peered down into her flawless face. Her eyes were watery, like she was on the verge of tears. No, he hadn’t been responsible for this, but he’d put the actors in place. “But I did hire the woman who leaked the information. Sandy. I put her in place at Sterling. It’s just that she went to work for Victor after I tried to put an end to the plan.”
“And what was her role in all of this?”
“She was the mole inside Sterling.”
“She was hired as Johnathon’s new assistant. You put her right in the lion’s den.”
Go big or go home. “That was a lucky break. It could have gone a different way. The plan was always to have someone there to interfere with Sterling’s bid to redevelop the Seaport Promenade. She was there to create mistakes so they couldn’t land it.”
“Why that project? From what I understand, there are plenty of deals with far bigger profits. It seems like it’s all about bragging rights.”
Andrew wasn’t about to answer her question fully, but he could at least give her the framework for his theory. “It was significant to me, and that made it of importance to Johnathon. The fact that there’s so little profit to be made only seems to prove that he pursued it for personal reasons. To not only put a knife in my back, but to twist it.”
“What could possibly be so important about the promenade that it would cause this much trouble between you?”
“It’s a symbol of the city. This is where we grew up, and where we both tried to make a life for ourselves. Johnathon succeeded at building an empire here. I didn’t.” Andrew sucked in a deep breath and forced himself to stop. He didn’t want her pity, and he didn’t want to crack open his own heart in front of her, either. “Johnathon and I were engaged in a lifelong game of king of the hill. It felt like this was his attempt to permanently plant a victory flag on top of the mountain.”
Miranda shook her head slowly, seeming unsatisfied with his answer. “Why do I feel like you still aren’t telling me everything?”
Because I’m not. “Did you ever know him to be petty or vindictive?”
She bunched up her lips like she was having to think very hard about this. “Not toward me, but I heard stories.”
“Some of those stories were right. That’s why Victor wants to carry out the plan. He and Johnathon had a bad business deal. Victor feels that he bore the brunt of the loss. He doesn’t care at all about the Seaport project, but he does care about damaging Sterling’s reputation and sabotaging the company.”
“But Johnathon’s gone. He’ll just be hurting innocent people. There’s no more revenge to get now, is there?”
Miranda saw it so clearly, but it hadn’t been that simple for Andrew. Even in the shock of Johnathon’s death, he’d been blinded by the memories of his brother, a lifetime of conflict that had shaped nearly every circumstance of Andrew’s existence. “I know. You’re right. But there’s no telling Victor that.” Just thinking about it made him even more eager to fix the mess he’d made. He had to redouble his efforts to reach Victor and get him to pull the plug.
“Maybe I should be grateful for it. It brought you back to San Diego. We wouldn’t have had this time together otherwise.”
What made Miranda so trusting and pure of heart? Andrew couldn’t imagine what it might be like to go through life like that. He wasn’t sure if he was wired this way, or if it was the result of a lifetime of betrayal, but he felt destined to never put his faith in anyone. “That’s a very sunny way of looking at the situation.”
“Or it’s desperate. I’m clinging to everything and everyone I have.”
The idea of her holding on to him made him that much more resolute to fix the problem he’d created. He would not leave her with anything less than what she deserved.
“You must be hungry. Would you like some
lunch?”
“You’ve already done so much. Let me cook for you?”
Miranda cocked an eyebrow at him. “Seriously? I don’t think your brother knew how to operate the stove.”
“You must realize by now that we’re very different people.”
“I’m starting to see that, but there are similarities. I see him in you.”
Andrew needed to continue to set himself apart. He didn’t want his identity and that of his brother too closely linked. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to focus on the differences.”
Four
Andrew had made it through his first week living with Miranda without doing anything stupid. That felt like a big win. By day, he worked out of her house, utilizing Johnathon’s study. By night, they enjoyed time together. They even managed to largely avoid the topic of Johnathon, even though his brother was a looming presence in the house. Andrew seemed to make Miranda happy by preparing dinner every night, and that, in turn, filled him with a satisfaction that was growing by the day. But he knew that the pleasure he took in being around her was ultimately not good. He couldn’t afford to get too comfortable. His life in Seattle was waiting for him—a lonely existence, but one in which the only risks he took were with business.
Unfortunately, he’d made no progress on the Victor front. He’d left countless messages. He’d sent Pietro on several trips to various locales around the city where they might be able to find him. Victor was hiding, lurking somewhere in the shadows, and that could only mean bad things. Andrew had also attempted to reach Sandy with a similar result. He suspected that money was at the root of her loyalty, and if that was all it would take to get her to end her involvement, he’d give her whatever she wanted.
It was late Friday afternoon when Miranda’s doorbell rang, and Andrew went to answer it. A burly delivery guy was waiting outside, with a truck parked behind him.
“I have a delivery for Miranda Sterling.” The man handed over a clipboard.
Andrew looked at the shipping order. It was from a furniture company, which made little sense. Wouldn’t she have that shipped to her office? “Before I sign for it, I need to call Ms. Sterling and make sure this is okay.” How was he supposed to know this wasn’t Victor sending another signal that he was watching Andrew and Miranda?
The man grunted. “I have other deliveries to make.”
“I’m sure you do. One minute.” Andrew turned his back and pulled his cell out of his pocket to call Miranda.
“Hey there. Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Yes. Everything is fine. I wanted to see if you were expecting a delivery from a company called Bella Furniture.”
“Oh, my God. That’s the crib. It wasn’t supposed to arrive until the middle of December. Yes. Please sign for it.” The excitement in her voice was unmistakable, and it gave him a lift he hadn’t expected.
He cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder while turning back to the front door and signing for the shipment.
“You want me to bring it inside?” the driver asked.
“Yes. Please.” Andrew returned his attention to Miranda, but he watched as another delivery person began wheeling the crate to the door. “It looks like a flat box. Does it need to be assembled?”
“It does, but I’ll have one of the guys from my warehouse come to the house and do it.”
“Why don’t you let me handle it?” He waved the deliverymen inside, and they hauled the oversize box into the foyer.
“That’s not necessary. You’re busy.”
He didn’t want to tell her that he felt utterly useless since he’d been unable to achieve his primary objective while in San Diego—stopping Victor. “I’d really like to do this for you. And the baby. Please.”
“Okay,” she said. “If you insist.”
“I insist.” He found himself smiling. It felt so damn good to make her happy.
“While I have you on the phone, I wanted to let you know that my brother, Clay, is coming by the house in a little bit. He has his own key, but I thought I should give you a heads-up. His daughter, Delia, left one of her favorite books at my house the last time they were over. She’s been asking for it for over a week.”
“Okay. Great. I look forward to meeting him.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you when I get home.”
Andrew ended the call, overcome by the feelings of comfort Miranda gave him. He reminded himself not to become accustomed to this. This wasn’t his life.
The box was simply too big to carry upstairs, so Andrew cracked it open and began ferrying the parts up the stairs and to the nursery. With every trip, he thought a bit more about what was ahead for Miranda, raising a baby on her own. He supposed that she would have the help of her brother, so it wasn’t like she’d be without a safety net, but it still made him wish there was a place for him somewhere in the midst of that. Perhaps more regular visits would be in order. But only if that was what Miranda wanted.
After six or seven trips upstairs, the doorbell rang again. Andrew answered, coming face-to-face with Clay, Miranda’s brother, for the first time.
“Miranda told me you’d probably be here. Clay Morgan.” Clay extended his hand. He had the same dark hair as Miranda, but a decidedly more intense demeanor.
Andrew shook Clay’s hand and opened the door wider. “Please. Come in.”
“I won’t be in your way for long. I think the book I’m looking for is in Miranda’s office,” Clay said.
“You’re welcome to stay if you want. I’m just unpacking the crib Miranda ordered for the nursery.”
“Really? Can I help?”
“Yeah. Of course.” Who was Andrew to say no? Plus, he relished the chance to get to know Miranda’s brother. “Just grab whatever you want. Most of it is already upstairs.”
Between the two of them, they were able to bring up the final pieces in a single trip. “Are you planning on putting it together?”
Andrew surveilled the pile of parts, wooden panels and hardware. “Believe it or not, yes.”
“I assembled my daughter’s crib when she was born and let me tell you, it’s much easier if you have two people. I’d be happy to help.”
“You sure you don’t need to go? I don’t want to keep you from your family.”
Clay consulted his watch. “I’ll help you for an hour. Astrid is at work and Delia’s with the nanny, so I definitely have time.”
“Great. I’d appreciate it.”
The pair went to work, Clay organizing the parts and Andrew reading the instructions after gathering some tools from Miranda’s utility room.
“How long are you in town?” Clay asked as they started the assembly.
“I’d originally thought only a few days, but my work project isn’t quite coming together the way I thought it would.”
“You mean dismantling your plan to take down the company I work for?”
Whoa. Andrew hadn’t quite expected that, but he admired Clay’s candor. “In a word, yes. I don’t know how much Miranda told you.”
“She gave me the highlights. For what it’s worth, I appreciate that you’re willing to fix your own mess. Not enough people are like that. Most people hide from their mistakes.”
Andrew was starting to think that kindness might just run in the Morgan family. Clay seemed as generous as his sister. “Don’t give me too much credit. I still messed up pretty bad.”
“I don’t have a brother, so I can’t really relate to whatever rivalry you had with Johnathon, but I do understand how intense a relationship with a sibling can be. I can see how it might motivate you to do some crazy things.”
“You love your sister a lot, don’t you?”
Clay looked right at Andrew. “I do. Absolutely. Which is why I’m rooting for you to be able to save Sterling Enterprises from any ill effects of whatever it is this Victor p
erson plans to do. If you hurt the company, you hurt her. And the baby. It’s the glue that brings us all together.”
Andrew felt the weight of the moment squarely on his shoulders. He would not let Miranda down. He couldn’t. “Don’t worry. I’ve already promised Miranda that I won’t let anything bad happen. Nothing at all.”
* * *
Miranda had a hard time concentrating after she got off the phone with Andrew. The fact that he’d offer to drop everything and assemble the crib? Well, that was just too much. Once again, she failed to see the bad person others seemed to think he was. In fact, quite the opposite. She saw only good.
As a result, she found herself unable to focus as the rest of the workday ticked away, all in anticipation of the moment she could leave the office and spend the weekend with Andrew. She knew she shouldn’t be getting attached, but she couldn’t help it. After their first week together, it was clear that Andrew and Miranda had little trouble coexisting. They had breakfast together each morning, then went their separate ways, Miranda to her office and Andrew into Johnathon’s study, where he managed his development firm from a distance, all while trying to track down the mysterious Victor. In the evening, they were drawn back together for dinner, which Andrew insisted on making. He enjoyed cooking. He said it relaxed him and that he liked doing something nice for her.
Every minute they spent together made Miranda doubt the opinion so many people seemed to hold of Andrew. He was not conniving, nor was he vengeful or even mean-spirited. It even had her questioning the picture Johnathon had painted of his brother. Perhaps they had been different together, although she’d never know. That opportunity was gone now. It saddened her to think about what might have been if the brothers had found a way to reconcile before one of them was gone.
She arrived home from work a little after 6:00 p.m. A last-minute panic from one of her clients meant that she’d left later than she wanted to. Just as she pulled into the garage, she got a text from Clay. I met Andrew. Super nice guy. Talk soon?