Page 81 of For the Sub

“It is,” he countered.

“Maybe for someone who lives life like you do,” she countered.

He went still.

His beautiful Brandy was walking a tightrope between expressing her fears and pissing him off. Keeping his flash of frustration under control, he tightly asked, “What the hell does that mean?”

“Look, Sir, I didn’t mean to offend you. We don’t move in the same social circles. I love to scene with you, and I appreciate your coming to my barbecue, but a fundraiser at the Moline isn’t for me.”

“Why not? Great food and expensive champagne, along with an excellent dancing companion.”

Even that didn’t elicit a smile from her.

“It will be filled with rich people, along with boring and insipid conversation.”

“Precisely.” He grinned. “Which is why you need to go with me…to ensure I don’t die of boredom.”

Her laugh scattered some of the growing tension. “I’m sorry, but I don’t do pretentious anymore, Sir. Not that I ever did it well.” She slid from his lap and crossed to her own chair, putting some distance between them. “My type doesn’t belong there.”

“Your type?” he echoed, stunned. “What the actual hell does that mean?”

“I’m not from your world.” She raked her hair back, and he read hurt and wariness in her eyes.

Something had happened to put it there and he wanted to know what the hell it was.

“We both know it.”

“No.” Total bullshit. She belonged anywhere she damn well pleased.

Refusing to accept what she said, he went on, “We sure as hell do not know that.”

“My background…” Looking into the distance, she trailed off.

“What about it?” he demanded. “Who the fuck hurt you?” I’ll kill them. “Made you believe that shit?”

Like she had earlier, she looped some strands of hair around a finger. “What I do for a living…”

Brandy scooted as far back in the seat as she could and drew her knees to her chest, as if to protect herself.

“You know that I moved up here about two years ago.” She met his gaze. Then, in a rush, she forced out, “After Reyes Northrup and I broke up.”

Niles froze.

Northrup?

An old, established, and respected Denver name.

Reyes’ father had made money—lots of it—in oil a long time ago. His trophy wife and kids lived high off the profits.

“His mother never pretended to like me.”

I’m not surprised. “Shawndra is a social climber and a bitch.”

Brandy’s mouth opened for a moment. “You know her?”

“Yeah. You can’t take her personally.”

“I tried not to.” Brandy gave him a ghost of a smile. “But you can’t deny that she cares about her kids.”

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