He loved airports, loved the anticipation and freedom of getting on a plane and winding up someplace far away and different. He loved wandering around a foreign country and getting to know the culture by stopping people and pointing to his camera and, if he didn’t know at least a little of the local language, miming that he wanted to take their picture. Children especially were all smiles when he asked, but even adults often shyly grinned while he took a photo and then crowded around to look at themselves on the preview screen of his camera.
He’d done that in cities and villages all over the world, and his tall, well-fed American body and shaggy hair attracted attention wherever he went. At times like those, he was a man without ties, without obligations, without the ability to disappoint people. He wouldn’t trade the experience for all the stability in the world. But, it suddenly occurred to him as he leaned against the kitchen counter and drained a bottle of water that he did have stability in his life. He had his family and his apartment with Colin and the promise of a steady income if he ever needed it. He could go off and have his adventures and come back home and get cleaned up and rested and then go out and do it again. He’d never really seen it that way before, and now that he did, he had a sudden worry that it might all go away.
As he tossed the empty water bottle into the recycling bin, his phone dinged and he looked down to see a message from Rayne: Were you going to drop your photos off ahead of time or bring them the night of the gala?
His heart sank. He’d abruptly dropped the fun, sexy banter they’d had going that morning when he got the call about Nepal and now she was clearly back onto business. He had planned to pick up his prints from the framing shop on Tuesday anyway. It was one thing to skip out on the gala, it was another to bail on his donation. He could drop them by her office that afternoon, ask her to go for a walk, and explain everything. That gave him two days to come up with a plan. And two days to avoid seeing her until he did.
Finally he typed back: I’ll drop them off ahead of time, and left it at that.
He sat down to make a quick list of the things he’d need to buy before he left, and after several minutes, she texted back: Everything OK?
Yeah, great! he replied.
A couple minutes later, she texted: I’m really looking forward to the gala—and what happens after. Followed by a grinning emoji.
He stared out the window for a long time. It was starting to rain, and people were pulling up collars and popping open umbrellas and dashing under overhangs to avoid getting wet. Finally he typed back, Me too. He hated himself for not telling her the truth. And he realized that Colin had been right all along: Chase didn’t deserve her.
Chapter 11
With the gala only days away, Rayne took Monday afternoon off and rode the subway to Dupont Circle to meet Savannah outside her office. After a quick lunch, they walked to a little boutique nearby to pick out a dress for Rayne to wear to the event.
She tried on a dizzying number of dresses, and they decided against floor-length (too formal) and stiff tulle (too ballerina-like). She also rejected a dress that was too snug and short—though Savannah swore it was custom made for her—because she didn’t think it looked professional enough. But she couldn’t help fantasizing about coming back to buy it for a date night with Chase at some point.
They finally zeroed in on a knee-length dress of beaded lace in dove gray with a tastefully plunging V-neck and sheer three-quarter sleeves. Savannah checked the price tag as Rayne studied herself in the mirror.
“It’s gorgeous and totally perfect, but it’s a little pricey, Rayney,” she said. “We could keep looking if you want.”
Rayne liked the way the dress complemented her eyes. It was classy with just the right hint of sexy.
“It’s a special night,” she said. In more ways than Savannah knew. “I think I’ll go for it.”
“Good!” Savannah said with a smile. “You deserve it!”
Rayne picked out a pair of matching shoes that had a heel at a height she could manage to walk on for hours. She thought about taking a photo of herself in the dress and sending it to Chase—a glimpse of what he could look forward to on Saturday night—but she didn’t know how to explain that to Savannah. So she changed back into her street clothes and was walking to the counter to check out when her phone rang. She hoped it was Chase—she’d barely heard from him in the past twenty-four hours—but her excitement faded at the sight of an unfamiliar number.
“Hello?” she said, cradling the phone to her ear as she set the dress and shoes on the counter, smiling an apology to the saleswoman at the register.
“Rayne? Hi! It’s Brandon.”
She nearly dropped the phone. “Brandon?”
Savannah looked up in alarm.
“Listen, before you say anything,” he said, talking fast, “I got an invitation from Bea Allison for CACC’s fundraiser, and I want to help.”
“My email address is on the invitation,” Rayne said and held the phone away to click the off button and end the call.
“Wait—please don’t hang up!” he said.
She brought the phone back up to her ear. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”
“Because your landlord, Vincent, owes me a favor. I’ve already talked to him about lowering the price for the house to make it more affordable for CACC. And I am prepared to match whatever money you raise Saturday night toward a down payment.”
She paused. That was definitely a reason.
“Thank you,” she finally said.
“I’d like to go over the details with you in person.”
“I should have known—”
“Please give me a chance. I just want to have a cup of coffee and talk about the fundraiser. I might be able to help in other ways.”
“You’re already being generous enough,” she said. “I’ll have Jeremy get in touch with you.”
“No, Jeremy is... well, we’re not on the best of terms since I left the board, and I think it would be better if the offer came through you.”
She briefly wondered if their falling out had had anything to do with her. Brandon had left the board shortly after their breakup—in the middle of his term. Maybe Jeremy had been pissed about it. Or maybe he’d found out about the affair...?
“Just meet me for a cup of coffee,” Brandon said. “Not for me, for CACC.”
“All right,” Rayne said. “Tomorrow at 4:00. There’s a place called Sweet Happens a couple of blocks from CACC.”
“I’ll be there,” he said. “And thank you.”
And then she remembered that she’d switched her cell phone number after she’d broken it off with him.
“By the way, how did you get my phone number?” she asked.
“Bea put me in touch with her son Chase, and he gave me your number.”
“He did?” She was going to have to have a chat with Chase—as soon as she could figure out how to do it without revealing that she’d had an affair with a married man.
“See you tomorrow,” Brandon said. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Rayne clicked the disconnect button without comment and tried to ignore Savannah’s stare as she tucked her phone back in her purse.
“Did I just hear you making plans to meet Brandon Wallace for coffee tomorrow?” Savannah said.
“Yes, but it’s not what you think.”
“Rayney, there is no reason in the world for you to be nice to that man. And please tell me you’re not still attracted to him.”
“God, no!” Rayne said. “But he heard about the fundraiser, and he said he can get the owner to sell us the house and match whatever we raise, so I have to at least talk to him about it.”
“So do it over the phone—or better yet, have Jeremy do it.”
“They’ve had
some sort of falling out,” Rayne said. “It’s just coffee, and I picked Sweet Happens because I figure having Crystal there will keep me grounded.”
“Why do you think you’ll need grounding?” Savannah asked, eyes narrowed.
Rayne smiled. “I’d rather not go to jail for assaulting the guy. Though now that I think about it, that might totally be worth it.”
Savannah laughed and then quickly turned serious. “Please be careful.”
“I can handle it,” Rayne said.
But she didn’t feel nearly as confident as she was acting. In fact, she was already regretting that she’d agreed to meet him. If Chase hadn’t given Brandon her number, she could have gone on ignoring him forever. Even if he came to the gala, it would be so busy and crowded that she wouldn’t even have to talk to him. Plus, once he realized she was with Chase, Brandon would have backed off.
She knew it wasn’t Chase’s fault, but she still felt more than a little irritated that he’d been so cavalier about giving her number to anyone who asked for it.
The next day, Rayne managed to keep her mind on work with only a few moments of panic when she remembered that she’d be seeing Brandon later. Finally at 3:45, she grabbed her purse and hurried over to Sweet Happens. She wanted to arrive a couple minutes early and see if she and Crystal could agree on a bailout signal ahead of time.
But when Rayne got there, Brandon was already waiting by the door.
“It’s good to see you,” he said, smiling a little uncertainly.
If she was objective—if she’d just seen him in passing on the street—she’d think he was a handsome man. He had thick blond hair that fell in a swoop across his forehead, pale blue eyes, and a vaguely Nordic face. He was only a couple inches taller than her, and he was fit and muscular. He’d worked hard building his management consulting company, and he flaunted it by wearing tastefully expensive suits and a Rolex that probably cost more than a year’s tuition at George Washington University.
But she was far from objective, and in spite of herself, she felt a flicker of the old attraction. She didn’t want to say it was good to see him, too, so instead she said, “I only have half an hour. I’ve got to get back to the office.”
His smile faltered. “Of course. You must be very busy with the gala only a few days away.”
He held the door for her, and she caught a whiff of his aftershave as she walked past, a scent she used to treasure when she smelled it on her clothes, in her hair, on her skin after he’d left. And gone home to his wife, she reminded herself.
Crystal was sliding a tray of coconut-frosted cupcakes into the glass case when they walked in. She looked up and smiled at Rayne.
“Hey, how’s it going?” she said, then she noticed Brandon and raised her eyebrows at Rayne.
“This is Brandon Wallace, he’s a former colleague,” Rayne said, hoping she sounded professional and unemotional. “Brandon, this is Crystal.”
He reached across the counter to shake Crystal’s hand. “It’s a pleasure,” he said.
“We just want a couple coffees,” Rayne said briskly.
Crystal gave her a puzzled look, and Rayne realized she was bordering on rude, but she couldn’t help it.
“Sure thing,” Crystal said. “Hazelnut OK? Or I’ve got some Sumatra brewing if you can wait a few minutes.”
“Hazelnut is fine,” Rayne said.
Crystal grabbed two mugs and started filling them at the coffee dispenser behind the counter. “Could I interest you in a couple of croissants?”
“That sounds delicious,” Brandon said.
“Great. I’ve got some just coming out of the oven. I’ll bring everything over to your table.”
Rayne reached for her purse, intending to at least pay for her half, but Brandon stopped her. “Let me,” he said, handing Crystal a twenty-dollar bill.
She started to punch numbers on the register, and he took a sip of coffee as she got his change. “This is delicious,” he said, and Crystal smiled.
Rayne headed for a table in the far corner, where she sat down and took a drink of the coffee, hoping the jolt of caffeine would keep her edgy.
Brandon joined her. “This is a nice place.”
“Yeah, it’s great,” Rayne said, pulling a pad and pen from her bag. “So tell me exactly what Vincent said.”
“He agreed to come down five percentage points on the sale price,” he said, sipping his coffee. “My lawyer drafted a document, and Vincent has signed it. I’ll email you a copy when I get back to the office. And I’m still prepared to match whatever you raise at the event. I can put that in writing, too.”
She set her pen down. “If everything is taken care of, then why are we meeting?”
He took a sip of his coffee and eyed her over the rim of his mug. Then he smiled. “You always were very direct. I’ve missed that.”
When Rayne didn’t respond, he sighed and glanced down at his coffee then back up at her. “Yvonne left me.”
Rayne stared at him in open-mouthed surprise. “Is that what you wanted to tell me? That your wife finally came to her senses and left you?”
Crystal came over to the table with the croissants, smiling until she got closer and sensed the tension between them.
“Just let me know if you need anything else,” she said and hurried back to the counter. Neither of them even looked at the pastries.
Brandon leaned closer and put his hand on Rayne’s. She snatched it away.
“Yes, I wanted to tell you about Yvonne,” he said in a low voice. “Because it made me realize how much I’ve missed you.”
Rayne sat rigid in her chair. “You’ve missed me?” she said. “You could have emailed me that news bulletin.”
“I’ve tried email,” he said, revealing the first hint of frustration. “You never respond. And you don’t return my calls to the office. Yvonne told me she was leaving a month ago, and I’ve been in a black hole ever since. Until I got that invitation about the gala. And I saw your name on it, and I just... I realized that Yvonne and I had never been right for each other.”
“Gee, what was your first clue?” Rayne said. “When you started messing around with younger women?”
He winced. “It wasn’t women, plural. It was just you. It’s only ever been you.” He put his hand flat on the table and leaned toward her. “I was wrong not to fight for you. I never should have let you go.”
She sat back, unsure of how to respond. Crystal glanced over as she wiped down the counters and caught Rayne’s eye with a look of concern. Rayne nodded slightly to signal that she had this thing under control.
“I’m sorry about your marriage,” she said. She’d never met his wife, and she had never wished her ill. Brandon had gotten all her fury. “But Yvonne is better off.”
He nodded, looking miserable. “You’re absolutely right.”
She’d never seen him take responsibility like this. When she’d told him it was over, he had pleaded and tried to convince her that a long-term secret affair was in everyone’s best interests. He’d never admitted that he’d done anything wrong. Now in spite of herself, she was softening toward him.
“Look, Brandon, I really appreciate you helping CACC out. And I’m sure you and Jeremy can patch things up—”
“He forced me off the board, you know,” Brandon said, his hand gripping the coffee cup. “He found out, or at least he had his suspicions, about us. He was furious. I didn’t tell him the truth. I didn’t want you to lose your job. But I didn’t argue. I left the board instead of making a fuss.”
Rayne didn’t entirely believe his motivations, but she felt a warm glow toward Jeremy for trying to protect her.
“I should have told him the truth,” Brandon said. “I should have told Yvonne. I should have left her then and there so I could be with y
ou.”
Rayne rocked back in her seat. He watched her carefully, hopefully. “Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?”
“Brandon, I don’t think—”
“I just want the chance for us to get to know each other again. And then you can decide. I’ll leave it all up to you.”
She took a deep breath. She glanced up at Crystal again, but a woman came in pushing a stroller, and Crystal was cooing at the baby while the woman decided what to order.
“I’m kind of seeing someone right now,” Rayne said.
“Kind of?”
It sounded stupid even to her. “It’s...complicated.”
“I’ll make things easy.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, then he jotted his cell phone number on the back and handed it to her. “Call me anytime, day or night, and we can talk. And dinner is an open invitation.” He stood up. “I want you back in my life, Rayne. Whatever it takes.”
She watched him walk out the door and then stared at the business card in her hand. Had that just happened? Brandon wanted her back, Yvonne was out of the picture, and Rayne didn’t know what to do with any of that information.
Crystal came over to collect their dishes. “Want me to box up the croissants so you can take them home?”
Rayne looked up at her blankly.
“You OK?” Crystal asked. “That looked like a pretty intense conversation.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Rayne said, still feeling dazed. “And sure, I’ll take the croissants to go.”
Crystal took the dishes back to the counter, and Rayne joined her there. As Crystal boxed up the pastries, she said, “I think I’ve figured out which painting to give you for the auction. Or at least I’ve narrowed it down to two.”
The Pursuit (Capitol Love Series Book 2) Page 11