His face paled and he reached out to grip the chair again. “I haven’t gone anywhere in a while. I get these panic attacks when I leave the property, and you…” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You make me feel secure.”
Her heart melted like warm butter. After two years, he finally trusted her enough to be vulnerable. In her heart, she’d always known he could never love her. If she could never be more to him than a security blanket, she’d take what she could get.
“Okay. I’ll go to Vegas.” She saw his tense countenance relax, and added, “But Branson…”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t come asking for my help if you’re nervous on your wedding night.”
The longer Stephanie was in the room, the more Bran’s coiled muscles relaxed. Since she’d promised to go with him to Vegas, his stomach had stopped churning. Though he broke out in a cold sweat when he imagined being inside the casino, he could handle it with Steph close by.
He was feeling so cheery with the turn of events, he offered to let her go an hour earlier than usual.
She hadn’t been gone long when someone buzzed the entrance monitor outside his office door.
“Who is it?” he asked, hoping it wasn’t Carina.
“It’s me.”
Dad. His blood pressure shot up.
Reluctantly, Branson pushed a button to open the door. He leaned back in his chair, trying to appear relaxed.
“Good morning, son.”
His dad had perfected the art of speaking that word in a demeaning tone.
“Father.” He used an equally mocking inflection. “Or would you rather I called you Martin, so no one knows we’re related?”
“I see you haven’t changed. You’re as disrespectful as you’ve always been. And you wonder why we never got along?”
“What do you want?” Bran had no intention of rehashing this argument.
“Why do you think I want something? Can’t a father visit his son?”
“A father could, but you can’t.”
He could hear his father breathing hard and felt his fury lurking below the surface.
“I came to congratulate you on your engagement. Is that so bad?”
“How do you know about it?”
“You’re joking, right? Horace Parker announced it to the world. He probably took out an ad in the New York Times.” Martin’s disdain was obvious. “The man’s a low-life sycophant.”
Bran didn’t care much for Carina’s father, but felt compelled to defend him. “He’s no worse than anyone else in your circle of friends.”
“Martin isn’t in the circle. He’s new money. That’s why he wants the Knight name.”
“Interesting. And I was considering having mine changed to be rid of it.”
In the cold silence that followed, his father’s breathing grew louder, still.
“Though you take joy in spitting in my face, I’ve come to offer a wedding present.” His father’s voice came closer, leaning across the desk.
“Thanks, Dad. I’m sure Carina will make a list.”
“I plan to set up a trust fund for your first child…”