Risky Business

It’s a secret I carry and trust few with. Mostly only Taya, and now . . . Carson.

“Mr. Brooks, Mrs. Brooks . . .” Carson repeats, finally shaking Dad’s hand.

He turns his eyes to me, and I don’t need my experience at reading people to understand what’s lurking in Carson’s eyes.

Betrayal.

We’ve shared so much. But I didn’t share this with him. Even after I knew I could trust him, I didn’t tell him.

My family is a foundational part of who I am, and I intentionally hid it from him.

I’ve seen this happen before with my brothers. Both John and Jordan had people react badly when they found out. One of John’s exes even went so far as threatening to out our whole family. Seeing how that was handled was my first taste at image management and how things are handled behind the scenes. It’s what started my interest in PR.

But I never thought I’d be on this end of an issue. I’m careful, so fucking careful. It’s not that Carson isn’t trustworthy, it’s that I should’ve already told him, but I didn’t. That’s my mistake. There’s no one to blame but me. No way to spin that or deflect from it. Especially when the proof is staring Carson right in the face.

“Welcome to our charity event this evening, benefitting the children’s hospital,” Ben says into the microphone at the front of the garden, starting off the formal part of tonight’s event. “Maybe if you give him a little encouragement, I can get my son up here to say a few words too. Carson?”

The audience, oblivious to the tornado wrecking through my life and leaving nothing but debris in its wake, claps politely.

“Excuse me,” Carson grits out. With a straight back and cold eyes, he simply walks away before anyone can say anything, heading up to the mic. He plasters a fake smile on his lips as he steps onto the small stage next to his dad. “Happy to speak in support of the children, Dad.”

“Honey?” Mom whispers.

I turn around and see her and Dad huddled together. They’re always a united front, solid and rock steady. A perfect example of a happily married couple, even after forty-plus years. But both of them look worried and confused.

“He didn’t know,” I intone. “I hadn’t told him yet.”

“Oh!” Mom exclaims, covering her mouth with both hands. “I didn’t realize, Jayme. The way you talked about him . . . I thought . . .”

“I did too, Mom. I did too.”

“I’m sorry,” Dad adds gently. “But if he can’t handle where you come from, who you are, then he’s not the right one for you.” His words have a bit more backbone to them, not liking anyone who dares to hurt his little girl.

“Thanks. I just thought . . . he was. But that’s my mistake.” I glance over my shoulder, seeing Carson with the microphone. He’s smiling, but it’s tight, forced, and he’s purposefully not looking in my direction. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’m going to go home.”

“Do you want us to do anything?” Mom offers, trying to make amends for overstepping with their uninvited appearance.

Guess I know where I got that trait, too. I’m a chip off the old blocks—both Mom and Dad.

“No, just go. Please. Leave Carson alone.” To Dad, I ask, “Please tell the boys to leave him alone too.” Dad’s the only one my brothers are going to listen to about this. As soon as they find out that Carson flipped shit over finding out about our family, they’ll be on him like stink on shit. And neither Carson, nor I, need that.

Especially Carson.

Even now, I want to protect him.

CHAPTER 26

CARSON

I go through my speech to the assembled crowd, thanking them for coming and supporting the children. I know I do because I can see them clapping, but I don’t remember a thing I say.

Afterward, I work around the garden, shaking hands and making small talk. I can feel where my cheeks are sore from forcing the fake smile. But I don’t register any of that, either.

I’m a zombie, but instead of brainzzzzz, my mind keeps repeating Brooks.

I feel like I’ve been blindsided—by Jayme, by information, and even by her parents’ unexpected appearance. I don’t know what to think.

Why did Jayme hide who she is from me?

We shared so much . . . hell, I shared everything, even my ugly family history and my feelings about it all. I thought she was sharing her soul with me in the same way. But she wasn’t. I knew she had secrets, or at least she’d said she didn’t discuss her parents. How was I to know, or even guess, that this was why?

Jameson Brooks. Jayme’s father.

Are you shitting me?

“Everything’s going well, it seems,” Dad says, floating up on a cloud of philanthropy with a smile of success.