Can't Walk Away

by Sandy James

  While that sounded wonderful—to see Michael squirm—she couldn’t help but worry that anything that pissed him off might make him retaliate by interfering in their daughter’s life. The last thing Caroline needed was that jerk hanging around confusing her. The girl had accepted her grandfather as the man in her life, the father figure she needed. If Savannah let her lawyer push Michael’s buttons with threats, would he try to insert himself into Caroline’s world?

  Why would he? With Caroline came financial responsibility. The man was too damn greedy to share anything he had with anyone, let alone the daughter he’d abandoned. Savannah would just have to trust that Geoffrey would know the right thing to do, and maybe he could force Michael to crawl back under whatever rock he’d been using to hide. The man was never one to rise to a challenge. He was all about the quick score and moving on.

  Brad would be waiting for her to check in. Her embarrassment had kept her from having him at her side. Every time she even thought about how naïve she’d been with Michael, she wanted to scream. No way she’d relive all that foolishness with the man she loved.

  She waved farewell to Greg and settled in the driver’s seat. Pulling her phone from her purse, she tried to think of what to text. The press had turned relentless, becoming almost crueler to Brad than to her. She’d had to go to great lengths to keep her life private, which meant in turn that he was hounded as well. Neither of them seemed to have a moment of privacy.

  On Greg’s advice, she was able to get her finances in good order. Her new home wouldn’t be in her name, which would make it next to impossible for anyone to tie her to it. That house would be her haven, her place away from prying eyes. She, Brad, and Caroline could enjoy peace and quiet there.

  At the moment, there was no peace. No quiet. There was only fear. Fear of whether Michael could truly slither back into her life. Fear for her daughter’s well-being. And fear that this love she shared with Brad might come to an end. Not because she’d stopped caring for him. Far from it—she loved the man more every day. But her life was rapidly spiraling out of control, and she wouldn’t allow him to be dragged under because of her.

  If push came to shove, Savannah would walk away from Brad if it meant the firestorm of bad press about his past would follow her and not him. If he were no longer involved in her life, the reporters would tire of writing the same disgusting stories about him. They could focus on her—or maybe on whatever newest entertainer had something juicy to report. The time might come when she had to leave him to save him, no matter how much it hurt.

  Perhaps that time was drawing near…

  * * *

  When Savannah didn’t text, Brad couldn’t help but worry. She’d promised to send him a message as soon as she met with the lawyer. Although he’d wanted to be at her side, she had insisted that Michael was her problem. What she didn’t seem to understand was that Brad’s love for her made her problems his problems.

  Why couldn’t he convince her of that?

  Probably because she was disgusted with him—because of his past, which kept popping up in every story about her.

  Brad couldn’t shake the feeling that he should be her savior, her knight in shining armor. Instead, Greg and his brother were the ones leading the charge against her asshat ex while Brad spun his wheels, turning over every rock to try to find some dirt on Michael. Worse, Savannah seemed to need him less and less. And that hurt.

  His phone chimed a text from Savannah.

  Meet you at W&M

  Twenty minutes later, he pulled his Escalade up next to her CR-V. It was the only thing she’d bought except for the house. Just another sign of her maturity. Most people, especially performers who came into a chunk of money, would probably blow it on things they didn’t need. Frivolous things. Ridiculous things. Not Savannah. She worked closely with Greg to protect the funds she’d received as though she feared there would never be more coming her way. Brad admired that.

  He got to her car fast enough to open the door for her. As soon as she was on her feet, he gave her a quick kiss that he wished could last longer. Not in public, not when there could be cameras pointed in their direction. He wasn’t about to give them anything they could use against her.

  Once inside, he led her to the office, hoping she’d open up about what had happened when she’d talked to Greg’s brother, Geoffrey. What he got was silence as she sat on the couch, focused on her phone, and furiously texted someone—probably Joslynn.

  “Savannah,” he finally said.

  She glanced up, frowning. “What?”

  “Are you ever going to tell me what happened?”

  “Sorry. I’m still a bit preoccupied. Geoffrey thinks a judge will throw out the lawsuit.” A glance down to her phone. “He’s hoping this won’t last that long, though. He’s talking to Michael’s lawyer right now about a settlement.”

  “Your lawyer’s texting you?”

  “His secretary.”

  Things were happening much faster than Brad had thought possible. Maybe the storm he’d anticipated would end up being nothing more than a passing shower. Lord, how Savannah deserved a break. She barely slept now, and if she had to keep dealing with her ex, she was going to stress herself sick.

  He wanted to share this burden. If only she’d let him…He took a seat next to her and draped his arm over her shoulders. “What can I do?”

  She shook her head. “Geoffrey’s taking care of it.”

  “For you, sweetheart. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  If he heard that word one more time, he was going to blow his top. She was about as far from “fine” as she’d been in the whole time he’d known her. “How about we have friends over tonight?” he suggested. “Ethan has been wanting to cook for us.”

  She shook her head again, although she leaned a little closer. “I just wanna go home after the show.”

  “It’s Tuesday, Savannah. There’s no show tonight.”

  “Tuesday?” A frown bowed her lips as she gave him an incredulous frown. “Really?”

  He nodded.

  A forlorn sigh slipped from her lips. “I…I lost track.”

  “So we’ve got the night to ourselves,” he said. “Let’s do something that will make you smile again. Take Caroline swimming? Go catch a movie?”

  Easing away from him, she got to her feet and shook her head. “Nothing’s going to make me smile again until Michael goes away.”

  Even though Brad doubted a snake like that would simply disappear, he held his tongue. He’d never seen her so resigned, and he wasn’t going to let his doubts add to her worries.

  “If it’s okay with you,” she said, “I’d really like to go home and spend some time with Caroline.”

  “That sounds great. We can take her to—”

  Before he could even tell Savannah his idea, she was already shaking her head. “I’m not going anywhere with her. There might be photographers.”

  “You can’t live your life like a hermit.”

  She flashed him a glare. “Protecting my daughter doesn’t make me a hermit.”

  “You are if you allow those bastard reporters to make you a prisoner in your own home.”

  “It’s safe there.”

  “Safe? From what? A couple of stupid pictures? Who gives a shit?”

  “I do,” Savannah insisted. “I don’t want Caroline to have any contact with the press.”

  “That’s not going to be possible. You’re a celebrity now, like it or not.”

  Folding her arms over her chest, she narrowed her eyes. “Oh, I don’t like it. I don’t like it one damn bit.”

  Ah. So that’s the way of it.

  The blame was plain in her angry tone, and the fight they’d been sidestepping ever since that first story had appeared threatened again. “And it’s all my fault,” he drawled as he stood up. “You’re rich and famous because I’m an asshole and made you that way. What in the hell was I thinking?” He waited a beat for emphasis. “Oh, I r
emember. You wanted to be a singer and I had the audacity to let people know you were a talented one. Damn me to hell for that.”

  “Stop it.”

  Brad’s temper was rapidly rising. “No, I won’t stop it. I’m tired of stopping it. We need to talk about this or we’re never going to get past it. I can’t keep apologizing forever. Either you need to forgive me and accept that what’s done is done or I need to—”

  “To what, Brad? To leave? Like Michael?”

  “I didn’t say that,” he insisted, folding his arms over his chest.

  “Not yet.”

  “Not ever. I love you, Savannah.”

  “But…”

  “But I’m tired of being punished for doing what I thought was the right thing.” He splayed his fingers through his hair before putting his hands on his hips. “I made a lot of mistakes. I assumed too much. I should’ve asked you what you wanted before I went balls out to get you noticed. It’s all water under the bridge now. I can’t change any of it.”

  The more he thought about her situation, about her career, the more he saw her becoming famous as inevitable. How could a woman with a voice like hers ever expect to be nothing but a warm-up act? Or sing commercial jingles? Or back up some other singer who wasn’t as good as she was? Everything that had happened in her career had been bound to happen someday. All his songs and efforts had done was to propel her into the spotlight sooner rather than later.

  * * *

  Savannah closed her eyes and let her head fall back. She was being unreasonable. While she wanted to blame Michael, for the first time, he deserved no blame. This was her own doing. Things were out of control, and she was taking her frustration out on Brad.

  She’d forgiven him a long time ago. So why was she picking a fight about something so ancient?

  Fear. Plain and simple. Michael terrified her. She couldn’t help but worry that there was more to his return than wanting money from her.

  She breathed a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…I’m just…frustrated.”

  His frowned eased. “As you have every right to be.”

  A text came in, startling her. She checked her phone. Geoffrey’s secretary was texting her again.

  Finally got info. Call when you can.

  In a panic, she dialed Geoffrey’s office. Penelope answered. “Savannah! Thanks for getting back to me so quickly. Geoffrey needs you to come back to the office at five.”

  “Why?”

  “Like I texted, I’ve got some info for you. My boss had a rather lengthy chat with opposing counsel. Your ex hired Tom Cummings. Not the brightest crayon in the box, according to Geoffrey. But it seems as though this lawsuit can disappear if you’ll just do one thing.”

  Typical Michael. Divert attention from his true purpose. “And what exactly is this ‘one thing’?”

  “He wants to talk to you face-to-face.”

  A foreboding chill raced the length of her spine. “Why?”

  “That,” Penelope replied, “I’m afraid I don’t know.”

  “But we’ll be with Geoffrey, right?” Savannah asked as she held up a hand to Brad, who was hovering over her. “I won’t be alone with that son of a…with Michael.”

  “That’s my understanding.”

  So he just expected her to show up to a meeting and that would be the end of his lawsuit? Things were never that easy with him. Ever.

  Yet if there was a chance, even a slim one, she had to act. “Fine. What time did you say?”

  “Five. If you’re sure…”

  “I am. I’ll be there.” She glanced at Brad, realizing that she needed him by her side. “And I’m bringing Brad.”

  “I’m really sorry, Savannah, but you can’t,” Penelope insisted.

  “Why not?”

  “You’re allowed to have Geoffrey because he represents you, but Cummings was adamant that you not bring Brad. He said Michael would walk out if Brad’s there.”

  Figures. When she needed Brad’s support the most, Michael was going to make sure she’d be defenseless. “Fine. I’ll let him have his way. See you at five.”

  “We’ll see you then,” Penelope said.

  Savannah ended the call before she could change her mind.

  Still looming over her, Brad asked, “Where are we going?”

  She faced him. “I have to go back to see Geoffrey at five, but you can’t go.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s Michael. He wants to talk to me. Alone. Evidently, this meeting might make all this lawsuit crap disappear.” Not that she was convinced the man was telling the truth. Why would he start now? “We’ll have to skip tonight.”

  Brad shook his head. “I’m going with you,” he insisted.

  “I want you there, I do, but Michael said if you come, the meeting’s off. If there’s a chance to make this all go away, I need to take it.”

  “I’m going with you,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “Please don’t get mad.” She made a point of checking her watch. “I need to go. I want to see Caroline before I head back downtown.”

  “Look, can I at least wait in the lobby?” As usual, he was going to be obstinate.

  “You’ll just piss him off,” she insisted.

  He let out a snort. “Like that would bother me.”

  “Brad…” It was hard to be stern when she really wanted him at her side.

  “I’m going, Savannah. I’ll stay out of the meeting and sit in the lobby like a good boy. But I’m going. And that’s the end of the discussion.”

  She found her first smile of the day. On tiptoes, she kissed him to let him know how much his stubbornness pleased her.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Savannah took a moment to compose herself. The man who’d tried to ruin her life waited behind the door she was poised to open. She would face him.

  Then she would drive him back to wherever he’d come from.

  She was so damned tired of always giving Michael exactly what he wanted. Not anymore. A hand settled on her shoulder, and she remembered she didn’t have to wage this battle alone. She glanced back to see Brad offering a weak smile. Behind him, Geoffrey, with Greg at his side, conferred with Penelope at her desk.

  “You ready for this?” Brad asked, his voice soft.

  Once they’d arrived, she’d made up her mind that he wasn’t going to be left behind during the meeting. No, Brad would be with her when she needed him most. She fired her first shot in the battle. “I’ve decided I want you in this meeting with me.”

  “That could cause some trouble,” Brad pointed out.

  “God, I hope so.” Despite the show of strength, she shivered, rubbing her upper arms.

  “He’s only a man, love. Nothing more.”

  “Meaning?”

  Brad squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t build him up to be more than he is. That man stole your money and abandoned his kid, but he’s not some supervillain. He also isn’t very smart.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “First, he gave up something as great as you and Caroline, and second, he thinks this lawsuit is a smart move.”

  “We’ll bury him,” Geoffrey said as he joined them.

  Greg, who had been waiting in the law office when she and Brad arrived, was only a few steps behind, nodding. The brothers resembled each other enough to be twins, and their mother had obviously instilled impeccable manners in them both. Savannah was beyond grateful to have them on her side.

  The confidence in her lawyer’s voice and the not-so-gentle reminder from Brad gave her the strength she needed to face the devil.

  No, not the devil. Just Michael. Michael Hart.

  The biggest asshole in the whole world.

  She’d been such a fool to be involved with him in the first place. Naïve and young, she hadn’t seen him for who he truly was. Instead, she’d listened to his name-dropping and pie-in-the-sky schemes and thought he was experienced and influential when he’d been neither. Swearing up and down
that she’d be a superstar, he made her believe that was her destiny. He’d also done a good job of playing the part of dutiful boyfriend—until Savannah had told him she might be pregnant.

  Then his mask had fallen away. He left her before she could work up the guts to leave him.

  Geoffrey stepped in front of her and opened the door to his conference room. “Ms. Wolf, after you.”

  The men followed her inside the opulent room.

  A large walnut table with heavy, carved legs took up a great deal of the space. At the head waited a wooden chair with velvet padding that was much larger than the other seven. Geoffrey’s seat, no doubt. At the other end of the table, Michael sat with an older man, judging from his gray hair. She let her eyes meet Michael’s.

  He hadn’t changed much in the six years since she’d seen him. Still lanky, he looked in need of a good meal. She knew the truth, though. He ate like a starving piglet, but he had a fast metabolism. Much as she’d wished his black hair would’ve fallen out, she had to admit he was still a rather handsome man. Thick hair. Clear brown eyes. A small cleft in his chin. But when he smiled, everything attractive about him faded. That grin was so fake, so slick, she could easily see a forked tongue darting out between his lips.

  For some weird reason that image eased some of her worries. Brad was right—Michael was only a man. She’d grown up and learned a lot about the world since she’d last seen him. She’d already let him hurt her enough.

  His effect on her life was over.

  Michael popped to his feet. “Why is he here?” He rudely pointed at Brad.

  Before Savannah could reply, Geoffrey put his hand on her shoulder. “If you will kindly sit down, Mr. Hart, we shall explain everything.”

  “I told you he couldn’t come,” Michael insisted.

  “And I really don’t care what you told me. I want him here,” Savannah countered. The bravado wasn’t easy because of Michael’s red-faced anger.

  “No. No way.”

  Savannah glanced to Greg. “Then this meeting is over.”

  All Greg did was give her a brusque nod, although she caught the hint of a grin.