Reunited with the Lassiter Bride

“You okay?” Evan asked.

“Fine,” she lied, gathering her emotions. “How about you?”

“It’s all good.”

She forced herself to carry on with small talk. “Are you getting settled in Santa Monica?”

“I am.”

“How’s the business?” She knew leaving Lassiter Media had to have been a professional setback for him, and she truly wished him well.

“Deke and I might start working together. Lex, too.”

She turned to him. “I thought you were going out on your own.”

“I was planning on it. But we’re looking at a possible deal that involves all three of us.”

“What is it?”

“I’m not in a position to say.”

Of course he wasn’t. And even if he was, it was certainly none of her business. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Everything going okay for you?” he asked.

“I’m moving my office. I didn’t...” She stumbled a bit, realizing she was about to share the truth with him. “I mean, I couldn’t...well, bring myself to take over Dad’s office. So I’m converting the top floor boardroom into an office for me.”

Evan was quiet for a moment. “That seems like a good idea, differentiating yourself for your father.”

“That’s my plan.”

The sound of the waves filled in the silence between them.

“So, did Conrad really bring you an idea for a television series?” Evan asked.

“He’s been in contact. He hasn’t sent us anything yet, but it looks like he’s serious.”

“I thought he was just testing you.”

“I did too. But he actually gave me an idea for a new direction for LBS.”

“I’m glad you have some new ideas.”

“I’ve always had ideas,” she said defensively.

“I wasn’t criticizing you, Angie.”

She hated it when he used that nickname. Okay, she liked it when he used that nickname. But she hated that she liked it. It was endearing and intimate, strumming her memories. How many times had he said it while they’d made love?

I love you, Angie, he’d whisper in her ear. No matter how often he said the words, her breath would catch, and her heart would sing, and her world would settle into a perfect dome of contentment. Even now, she was fighting an urge to lean back against him.

“Angie?”

She shook herself and headed toward the waves, letting the cold water shock her to reality. She waded to her ankles, her knees, her thighs.

“Whoa,” Evan caught her arm.

She shook him off.

“I thought we’d decided against skinny-dipping.”

“I don’t need your help.” She didn’t need it here or anywhere else.

“I honestly wasn’t criticizing you. I have nothing but respect for your abilities at Lassiter Media.”

“Is that why you fought so hard to keep me out?”

“Is that how you remember it?”

“I remember.” She paused, gathering her thoughts as the waves pushed against her legs, washing the sand from beneath her feet. “I remember being abandoned by everyone I ever loved.”

“Yeah?” There was a funny note to his voice. “How did that make you feel?”

The question struck her as absurd. “How do you think it made me feel? Terrible. I felt terrible.”

There was a lengthy silence, and then his tone was hollow. “Do you know how many people in this world loved me?”

For some reason, each of his words felt like a punch to her stomach.

“You,” he continued. “You were the only one, Angie. So, yeah, I know exactly how that makes a person feel.”

Her chest contracted with pain. She turned, and a wave splashed up, dampening her dress.

“Evan...” She didn’t know what to say. She knew his parents had died when he was a teenager, knew he had no brothers or sisters. Her family might be scattered and unorthodox, but it was definitely a family in every sense of the word.

“You were supposed to be my other half.” He spoke softly into the night. “You were supposed to have my babies and turn this solitary existence into a big, rambunctious, loving family.”

Her chest turned into one big ache, and tears threatened behind her eyes. Then a big wave pushed against her side. She staggered, then fell, gasping as the cold water engulfed her, the wave swirling over her head.

In a split second, his hand was on her arm, yanking her upright.

“What the hell?”

“I tripped,” she sputtered.

He scooped the wineglass full of seawater from her hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

She trotted miserably toward the shore, his hand firmly on her upper arm, tugging her along. Her heart ached with regret. She’d made some terrible mistakes these past months. She’d been angry, disappointed and despondent.

But in all that time, with all those disputes and maneuvers, she’d never felt as heartsick as she did in this moment.

* * *

Angelica arrived at the Lassiter mansion still soaking wet. Albert had given her a fluffy, white robe to cover her ruined dress, and she’d combed out her hair and washed off the worst of her smudged makeup in Conrad’s powder room. But she still looked like a drowned rat.

The last thing she needed was to find her two brothers waiting for her in the front foyer. She’d known they were both in town with their wives, but they’d fallen out of the habit of staying at the mansion.

“Explain this to us so that we understand,” Dylan began, as they came to their feet.

“I fell in the ocean.” She shut the door behind her. She was too tired for this, so she slipped past them into the study, helping herself to a brandy snifter and uncapping a bottle of cognac.

They both followed on her heels.

“We’re talking about you and Evan,” said Sage.

“That’s a l—” She stopped herself mid-word.

She’d been about to confess that it was all a lie. But she knew that Evan was right. If she told her brothers the truth, she’d have to ask them to lie to their loved ones. She couldn’t do that. But she also couldn’t risk an accidental leak before Kayla’s wedding.

“It’s a long shot,” she said instead, her back to them as she poured a measure of the cognac into the blown crystal glass.

“What the hell happened?” Dylan demanded. “One minute you can’t even contemplate forgiveness, the next the newspaper has you reuniting.”

“It’s complicated,” she said, turning to face them. “You’ll have to leave it at that for now.”

“I don’t think so,” said Dylan, advancing on her.

“We talked,” said Angelica, looking her brother square in the eyes. “We reminisced.” She inwardly winced as she recalled tonight’s hurtful conversation. “We agreed that we’d both made some mistakes. And we’ve decided to spend a little time together.”

There. Everything she’d just said was true. She took a sip of the cognac.

Sage moved to stand beside Dylan. “What aren’t you telling us?”

“What I’m not telling you, is how this all ends. Because I don’t know how it all ends.”

They both peered at her with obvious suspicion.

“We were very much in love,” she told them. “What we went through was painful and emotional. We’re both battered and bruised, and we don’t know where that leaves us.”

Her brothers’ gazes softened in sympathy.

She realized they were buying it.

She also realized that the reason they were buying it was because she was buying it. Because it was true. It was all so frighteningly true that she wanted to weep.

“Oh, Angie,” Dylan sighed, drawing her into his arms.

She held her drink out to one side and accepted his hug.

“I wish I could explain better than that,” she whispered.

“We understand that you can’t,” said Sage, giving her a rub on the arm. “We can wait.”

She drew back, wishing she could be completely open with them. “Thank you. Thank you for being patient with me.”

“You’re freezing,” said Dylan, tightening his hug and rubbing his hands up and down her back.

“I am. And I’m exhausted. I think I’m going to take a bath and go straight to bed.”

“That’s a good idea,” said Sage. “Do you want me to get Colleen to come over?”

Angelica managed a smile. “I don’t need a nurse. What I really need is a good night’s sleep.”

“Okay,” Sage agreed.

Dylan plunked a kiss on her head. “Call us if you need anything.”

She hiccupped out a laugh. “I’m not used to you guys being this way.”

“I suppose not,” Dylan agreed. “But I like it better when we’re not fighting.”

“So do I,” said Angelica, battling a surge of guilt. She stepped away from Dylan, feeling as though she was accepting their affection under false pretenses. “Now, you two get out of here so I can warm up.”

They both wished her good-night and headed down the hall to the front foyer and out the door.

Angelica sipped at the brandy as she made her way up the main staircase to her bedroom. She was chilled to her bones, aching and shivering uncontrollably as she stripped off her wet dress and clinging underwear, tossing them into the sink to rinse off the saltwater, wondering if there was anything she could do to save the patterned silk. Then she turned the taps in the oversized tub, and hot bathwater churned from the big faucet to fill it.