Honest Betrayal

by Girard, Dara

  Byron gently took her elbow and led her out. “The court is this way.”

  His voice broke through her paralysis. She yanked her arm free and stared up at him. For a moment she wished she hadn’t. He hadn’t changed. Time hadn’t seemed to touch him. He possessed a nonchalant grace that age should have tempered but instead seemed more defined. He flashed a quick confident smile that should have been off-putting, but offered a teasing invitation. Eyes brown like hazel nut coffee gazed down at her. She fought against the tug in her heart and kept her tone level. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m representing your brother.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since your mother hired me.”

  “My mother,” she said as though it was a curse word.

  He glanced at his watch. “We’ll discuss this later.”

  “We won’t discuss this at all.”

  He smiled then jogged down the hall. Brenna slowly followed behind. When she reached the court room she watched Byron talking to Stephen. When he saw her, he winked. She gripped her cane and left the room. She couldn’t watch him. She stood outside the room staring blankly at the wall trying not to analyze her feelings. Trying to force herself not to care. When the doors finally opened she spotted her mother and rushed up to her. “Mom.”

  Diane gripped her hands and smiled. “Byron got Stephen off on bail. He’s wonderful, you should have seen him.”

  “Why him?”

  “I had no choice.”

  “Of course you had a choice,” she said, struggling not to scream. “You could have used the public defender.”

  “She didn’t care. She was ready to enter into a plea. Brenna, he was the only one I could think of. Are you upset about this?”

  Yes! “Does it matter? I doubt if I said I was you’d find someone else. So let’s just say I’m fine. I’m perfectly fine that you hired my ex to defend my brother. Everything is just perfect.”

  “What happened between you two?”

  “Silly dreams crushed by reality that’s all.”

  “I know that Hunter’s not there. You’re in that big house all alone. Perhaps I should come over and—”

  Before she could reply, Stephen came up and hugged her, lifting his sister off her feet. “She meant well,” he whispered in her ear.

  “That doesn’t fix things,” she whispered back.

  When Stephen set her down she saw Fiona wiping tears then Byron standing behind him. “How would you like to finish our discussion?”

  “I have work to do.” She turned and left.

  At home, Brenna sat in the living room, staring at the phone. She picked up a pen and chewed on the end then put it down. She should call Hunter.

  She picked up the phone then set it down. No need to get Hunter involved in this until he got back. There was nothing he could do. He’d be a nice shield though. A husband made a nice statement. A statement of: See you may not have wanted me, but someone else did. Not that Byron would care. Was he married too? Did he have kids? Perhaps she could orchestrate a way to never meet him except in the courtroom where they would be surrounded by lots of people. Yes, that would be perfect.

  A few days later, that hope died.

  Pauline came into her office with a knowing look. “You have a visitor.”

  “Who?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Brenna turned to the computer then spun around in her chair. “It’s not—”

  Pauline nodded. “Yes, it is.”

  She briefly shut her eyes. “What is he doing here?”

  “I didn’t see a ring on his finger. Perhaps he needs a date.”

  “Tell him I’m busy.”

  “No. It’s for your own good.”

  “Fine,” she said resigned. “Send him in.” She picked up a pen then tossed it aside. She was fine. He couldn’t hurt her. She wouldn’t let him. When he walked into the room, Brenna steeled herself for the impact.

  It didn’t help. He still made her insides tremble. “Hello Brenna,” he said in a sweet baritone.

  She struggled to keep her voice professional. “How may I help you?”

  He sat. “You know why I’m here.”

  “Either you’re looking for a woman or a reason to waste my time. I’m not sure yet.”

  He raised a brow surprised at the tone. “I thought we’d parted as friends.”

  “Are you seeking a discount?”

  A flash of temper crossed his gaze, the emotion quickly disappeared. He smiled and glanced at her hand. “I see you’re married now.”

  “I see that you’re not.”

  Byron leaned back with a casual air as though he had all the time in the world. “I decided to focus on my career.” He folded his arms. “So you’re Mrs. Hunter Randolph now.”

  “Is that a statement or a question?”

  “Brenna, please.” He shook his head with regret. “Did I really hurt you that much?”

  Yes. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction or advantage of thinking so. She was married now; he was no longer a threat. She wouldn’t let him be. “What are you up to?”

  “You’re looking well, Brenna.”

  She leaned back in her chair. “You’re looking surprisingly well yourself.”

  He raised his brows. “Why surprisingly?”

  “You dress well for a man who’s lost his last three cases.”

  He paused then sighed. “How did you know?”

  “Research. I looked you up.”

  “I didn’t know you cared.”

  “I care about my brother.”

  “So do I.”

  “If you lose this case—“

  He folded his arms. “I don’t plan to lose.”

  “Did you plan to lose your other cases?”

  His arms fell. “Don’t push me Brenna.”

  “I suggest you leave.” She sat forward ready to dismiss him. “If there is anyway I can assist you with Stephen’s case—”

  “You can let me take you out for coffee.”

  She frowned. “How will that help Stephen?”

  He smiled. “I like coffee.” His smile grew. “Are you scared to have coffee with me?”

  She tilted her head to the side. “I don’t remember you being arrogant.”

  He leaned forward. “I don’t remember you being timid.”

  It was a challenge she couldn’t resist. “Coffee’s fine.”

  ***

  Byron chose an upscale cafe off a main street that boasted design boutiques and expensive furniture stores. The quiet cafe held the scent of cream, coffee beans and vanilla. Brenna didn’t like fussy coffees so she ordered hers black. Byron ordered a Colombian mix.

  He rested back in his chair, his brown blazer intensifying the color of his eyes. “Did you tell your husband about this?”

  “My husband is out of town.”

  He raised a brow, from surprise or censure she wasn’t sure. She told herself she didn’t care. “You didn’t tell him about the indictment?”

  “No.”

  “So you’re dealing with this all alone?”

  “I have my family.”

  Byron nodded, a smile quirking his lips. “Your mother hasn’t changed.”

  Brenna couldn’t help but smile too. “No.”

  He lifted his cup. “Tell me about Stephen.”

  She sipped her coffee wondering what she could say. “He’s a wonderful hardworking man.”

  “What about his personal life?”

  “He’s married.”

  “Yes, I’ve met her.”

  It was his tone rather than his words that caught her attention. She narrowed her eyes. “What did you think?”

  “Do I have to tell you?”

  They shared a look then began to grin. Brenna said, “No.”

  He exaggerated a look of relief. “Thank you.”

  “He loves her though.”

  “Is he happy?”

  She turned the mug handle away, trying to choose the right w
ords. Was Stephen happy? She couldn’t tell. “I don’t know. Why would that matter?”

  “Law is as much about psychology as it is about evidence. The DA is going to paint a picture of him as a calm decent citizen who snapped under the pressure of his life. I need background.” She paused. “Stephen would never snap. He’s always easygoing.”

  “Everyone has a breaking point.”

  Brenna’s eyes met his, her tone firm. “Stephen would never break to the point of murdering someone. Especially an old man. And if you think—”

  Byron held up his hands in surrender. “I’m on his side, remember?” He rested his arms on the table his tone teasing. “Still have that defiant spirit.” His voice filled with regret. “Shame I could never get you to follow me into law.”

  “ Even though you could get me to follow you everywhere else?”

  His gaze dropped to his cup. “Yea.” He glanced up at a man trying to balance three drinks and a muffin then he looked at her. “So how did you meet him?”

  “Well when Mom brought him home from the hospital, I didn’t really have a choice.”

  “I meant your husband,” Byron said in a dry tone.

  “Planning on putting him on the stand?”

  “No, just curious.”

  “You’ll have to ask my mother how I met him.” She couldn’t remember the story they’d constructed. “It’s nothing riveting.” He just barged into my office one day and asked me to stand in as his fiancée.

  “What’s he like?”

  Brenna tried not to smile. Hunter seemed to defy description. “He’s ambitious.”

  “Is that why he’s not here with you?”

  She narrowed her gaze. “Objection. Relevancy.”

  He folded his arms. “Overruled.”

  “You can’t be both the judge and the prosecution.”

  “I can in this court. Answer the question.”

  Brenna lifted her mug, glad her grip remained steady. She felt alive and suddenly as hot as the beverage in her hand. She was surprised and dismayed that he could still make her feel this way. “When it becomes your business I’ll tell you.”

  “Are you happy?”

  “Are you?”

  Byron looked at her for a long moment then glanced away. “The prosecution rests.”

  “Good.”

  He shook his head amazed. “I wish—”

  “Don’t.”

  He turned to her, his eyes sweeping her face. “You’re right. No good comes from looking back.” His expression suddenly became grim and a little ruthless. It was a side of him she’d suspected but had never seen. “This case is going to be a difficult one. The DA is confident. That is a never a good sign, but I promise you I’ll do everything I can.”

  Brenna met his eyes and for a moment her heart stopped and she feared that once again it would begin to beat in time to his. She twisted the ring on her finger, remembering the silent promise it made. “I know.”

  ***

  Two days later, Brenna sat in a restaurant with Miles.

  “You’re quiet today,” he said. He’d been kind enough to invite her to lunch and she welcomed the distraction.

  “I’m sorry I’m such bad company.”

  “You could never be that.”

  “How are you and Sara?”

  He waved a fork. “Don’t evade the issue.”

  “Which is?”

  “You’re worried about something.”

  “I’m worried about a lot of things. My brother, my marriage.” She glanced up guilty.

  “Go on.”

  “Sometimes I forget you’re Hunter’s friend.”

  “Yes, sometimes he forgets that too. I like you both, so you can consider me a neutral party.” He raised a hand as though ready to make a pledge. “Anything you say to me won’t reach him okay?”

  Brenna chewed on her lower lip then said, “A few days ago I had coffee with my ex-boyfriend who happens to be my brother’s attorney.”

  Miles blinked. “I take back what I said.”

  “You’ll tell Hunter?”

  He thought for a moment then shook his head. “No, but you’ll have to. Have you called him?”

  “He can’t help me right now.”

  “So you didn’t call him?”

  “No.”

  “But—”

  “Trust me. I know him.”

  “I know him too. He’ll—”

  Brenna pushed her salad around on her plate. “You don’t have to worry about me being faithful to him.”

  “I’m not, but don’t shut him out even though it’s easy to do.”

  She glanced up ready to change the subject. “How are things at work?”

  “Fine since Hunter’s been away. Nobody is getting nervous.”

  “Do you know what he’s up to?”

  “No.”

  “Are you lying?”

  “Maybe.” Miles held up a hand before she could speak. “This time we won’t get involved.”

  She reluctantly agreed.

  An hour later she sat in her office. Pauline entered a few minutes later. “If you’re hungry, get something to eat.”

  Brenna looked down at the pen she’d been chewing. “I’m just thinking.” She glanced at her watch. “In about forty minutes I have to give Carlotta some tips about her date. She’s nervous. Then I have a quick speech at the Abby House for seniors, I’ll get back here for my appointment with a possible new client, meet with Sara for a new commercial idea and print ads. Then I’ll call Stephen.”

  “What about your doctor’s appointment?”

  She waved that away. “Oh, I’ll have to reschedule.”

  Pauline sat, her voice concerned. “Brenna, you can’t keep this up. You can’t run Love by Design and be the spokeswoman for Randolph and worry about your brother. You have to take care of yourself.”

  No. She had to keep busy to keep her mind from going crazy. “I do take care of myself.”

  “What about Hunter? What does he think?”

  Hunter?! Why did everyone care about what he thought? She was married, but she was still an individual who could take care of herself. “He agrees.” She read Pauline’s face and shook her head. “You may not like him. I respect that, but remember he is my husband.”

  “No, he’s not. He’s your business partner. A husband would be there for you no matter what. There are no conditions. It’s not dependant on his career success.”

  Brenna’s voice became neutral. “I like helping the company and I have the energy to do it.”

  “You mean to run away from the truth. You’re doing all this because you’re afraid,” she said impatient. “You’re afraid he’ll leave you if he loses his job. So you think if his career is strong he’ll stay no matter what. Right?” She shook her head. “You don’t have to prove yourself to him or anyone.”

  Brenna took a deep breath then said quietly, “You don’t understand and I don’t expect you to.”

  “If he loved you he would—”

  “But he doesn’t,” she snapped. “And I accept that.”

  Pauline threw up her hands. “Why do I feel as though I don’t know you anymore? How can this be the Brenna who believed in the importance of good matches? Matches based on compatibility and some affection? Maybe even true love? Where’s the Brenna who used to talk to me? Who are you? Your brother’s suspected of murder and I don’t even know how you feel. Your ex-boyfriend comes back into your life. Do you even care?

  “You come to work and pretend that everything is fine. If your husband is so good at his job why does he need you to help him?” She crossed her legs and swung her foot. “You sure are working for the money you married. Fortunately, that doesn’t bother you, nothing does.”

  Brenna tapped her pen against her palm, then set the pen down. “All I have to keep me sane is my work. Tell me what good tears will do? They’ve never helped me through anything before. They’ve never fed me, clothed me or comforted me. All they seem to do is make other peo
ple feel better.” She let her gaze fall. “I’m sorry I can’t perform that ritual for you.” She looked up. “I will never perform it. I will never come into this office less than a professional. My personal life is just that—personal. I will continue to help my husband climb the ladder at his company and I will run my life the way I see fit. Now if the way I do business is contrary to your standards perhaps we could come to an arrangement—”

  Pauline stood. “It’s been made. I’m giving you my two weeks’ notice.”

  Her words fell like a hammer on Brenna’s heart. She’d considered Pauline a friend. She hadn’t realized how far their friendship had disintegrated. She picked up a pen then set it back down. “I’d like you to reconsider that option. You are an asset to the company. I enjoy you and...” She stopped. She would not beg or crumble although she felt her insides doing so. “I was hoping to take time to be with my brother during the trial. I’d appreciate it if you’d stay. With me out of the picture, you could take time to—”

  “I can’t,” Pauline said both her tone and eyes flat.

  Please don’t leave me now. She swallowed. “I understand.”

  “I’m sure you’ll find someone else,” she said with a level of disdain Brenna had never heard before. “Now I’d better return to my desk.”

  ***

  At home, Brenna went to the library and stood in front of the shelves. She ran her hands over the spine of the books. She picked a few up and flipped through, reading old passages that had given her joy. Her old friends. Books could never betray her. She remembered burying herself in their pages, disappearing from her own life. But now, not even her old friends could offer her comfort. And there was no one to talk to. She couldn’t burden Miles. She’d already spoken to him today. Her mother certainly wasn’t an option and she’d hate to discover if Tima shared Pauline’s views. She had to be strong for Stephen. And Hunter...

  She turned away from the bookshelf and sat, feeling the weight of resignation. Pauline was right. Hunter was just a partner not a friend. She wished she could imagine her calling him and he saying he’d come home right away to be with her. But he was more practical than that. He’d help her think things through. Come up with a plan. But she didn’t want to think or plan or rationalize. She wanted to scream and tear things and make it all go away.