Page 82 of For the Sub

He wondered how many times she’d repeated those words to herself. “So, she’s a saint.”

“No.” Quickly, she shook her head. “But she has always done what she thought was best for her family. I can’t fault her for that. Reyes is a sweet guy with a big heart.”

“Who can’t stand up to his mommy and has a hell of a drug problem.”

“That’s a bit harsh.”

“It’s the truth,” he countered.

He had a lot of respect for people who earned their way in life, but none at all for guys who lived off their trust funds and put the profits up their noses.

“I thought I could save him. Tried to, time and again. But when everything is magnified under the spotlight of the tabloid press, it makes it that much harder. That last night…”

“The Great Disaster?”

“You remembered.”

He had. And he appreciated that she was willing to confide in him. “I remember everything about you.”

Brandy stood and began to pace.

Immediately MW jumped up to nip at her toes.

“Sit,” he told the pest.

The dog plopped down, though he continued to move his head, tracking her feet.

Patience wasn’t Niles’s normal forte, but for Brandy, he’d try.

“I arrived home from work around midnight and found Reyes unconscious in the shower.” She blinked to clear her eyes of tears. “I called an ambulance, and I held his hand all the way to the hospital. His mother met us in the emergency room. She made it clear that she blamed me and my lifestyle for his problems.”

“Lifestyle?”

“She didn’t know I was a submissive or that Reyes liked to tie up women.”

“So…?”

“In addition to having a job at an advertising firm and helping out at the Den, I was working at a sports bar to help pay for college.”

“And the alcohol was a bad influence?”

“Waiting tables would have been scandalous enough, but it’s the type of place where the women wear white button-down shirts and ridiculously short kilts.”

“Do you still have it?”

With a small laugh, she shook her head. “Pervert.”

“A man who can’t get enough of you,” he corrected.

Thankfully, the pain he’d witnessed on her face had been wiped away.

“We met there, when he and a bunch of his buddies came in for a bachelor party. He was flirting with me. At the end of the night, his friends decided to go to Central City to play some craps, but he said he was too drunk to go with them. So I took him home—to my place.” Lost in her memories, she sighed. “It wasn’t until much later that I realized he’d been doing something stronger than shots. Sorry. Am I boring you?”

“Not at all.”

“We can change the subject and talk about something other than—”

“Go on,” he told her in the no-nonsense tone that he reserved for business negotiations.

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