Learning Curves (13 page)

“I really appreciate you pinch-hitting for me like this. It’s definitely above and beyond the call of duty. Aunt Barbara and Uncle Paul are fine, but Gillian’s a real pill.”

Grinning at her sour expression, Brandon laughed. “Pinch-hitting doesn’t really do it for me, I’m afraid. Spanking, though. I’m definitely willing to experiment with that.” His eyes twinkled with a naughty light and Leanne bit down hard on her lower lip to restrain the heated acquiescence that wanted to hurtle out.

Two days apart might have been two hundred from the way her body thrummed and throbbed in lustful anticipation. Here she was, ready once again to forget all sense of modesty and jump his bones. She wanted to run her fingers over his fly, tear open the zipper and release his cock into her eager hands.

She wanted him. Period.

The sound of footsteps snapped her back to reality. And the appearance, moments later, of two dancers made her doubly grateful that she’d had the sense to pull back before things got out of hand.

The men stopped at the top of the stairs, the surprise on their faces evident. She recognized one of them from her first visit to the club. T’Shaun, maybe? But the other one was a stranger—until the moment he spoke, greeting Brandon in a friendly tone.

“Hey, man. Any chance our paychecks are ready to go?”

Leanne drew back, a wash of mortified color flooding her face. She knew that deep baritone voice. He was one of the performers who’d walked into the dressing room Saturday night.

Oh my god.
The one who’d made the crack about Brandon getting in her? She couldn’t meet their eyes, the angry blush creeping up her neck blaring her discomfort like a siren.

She tried to increase the distance between them, to convey a sense of friendly casualness, but Brandon’s arm wrapped round her waist.

“They are. June’s just bringing them up now.” He paused and then turned toward her. “Leanne, I’d like you to meet T’Shaun and Lucas. They dance here at the club.”

She inclined her head, acknowledging Brandon’s introductions.

“Nice to meet you.”
Again
.

But technically, they’d never met. They certainly hadn’t been formally introduced last week, despite the fact that they knew as much about what she looked like naked, fleshy thighs and all, as her gynecologist did?

She turned her head and caught the unmistakable frown Brandon was directing toward the two men. She wasn’t sure what message he was trying to convey, but it was clear the pair understood.

T’Shaun stepped forward. “It’s a pleasure,” he said, a genuinely pleased grin on his face. He shook her hand with a firm grip. Lucas was a little more reticent but after a loaded pause, he chimed in too.

“And…uh…about the other night?” He shuffled awkwardly and Leanne was suddenly struck by how young he was. “Brandon explained. We know now you’re not a club bunny and are sorry if we embarrassed you.”

Brandon explained what?

“Uh…thank you.”
I think.

Brandon leaned over and dropped an affectionate kiss on her hair. It was the first time he’d ever touched that way in public before and the reason for his gesture struck her with blinding force.

After her furious accusations outside the faculty club, he knew how she felt about having their unorthodox meeting made so humiliatingly public. So he’d concocted this fiction for his coworkers’ benefit, treating her like a girlfriend. T’Shaun and Lucas would think they interrupted a couple who couldn’t get enough of each other, not two strangers having a one-night stand. Being discovered in a compromising position was still embarrassing but not fatal to her reputation this way. Her heart warmed at this newest proof of Brandon’s thoughtfulness. He might claim to have time for a relationship but even now, he went out of his way to protect her.

Brandon glanced at his watch. “I’m guessing your folks won’t be pleased if we show up late. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready to head out.”

“S-sure, sweetie. You go right ahead.”

His eyes met hers, and the corner of his mouth tilted up at her unexpected endearment. He released her waist and walked across the room. A garment bag in hand, he disappeared down a narrow hallway, leaving Leanne alone with the two men still lingering the office space.

But before any of them could speak, the awkward trio was interrupted by a woman coming up the stairs. She was in her late sixties, Leanne guessed, but her hair was dyed an age-defying shade of blonde and her bright clothes ensured she’d never blend into a crowd.

“Hey, Miss Foxe,” the dancers greeted her. She nodded, never taking her eyes off Leanne as she moved around the office and sank into a leather chair.

Leanne smiled, hoping her nerves were well concealed

With a flick of her acrylic nails, the club’s owner sifted through a stack of pay envelopes next to the printer and held them out to her employees. They took them and quickly disappeared back downstairs.

“So, you’re the new girl in Brandon’s life?” she asked, her voice smoky with the evidence of cigarettes past and present.

“Umm…yes.” June Foxe’s narrowed eyes revealed the uncertain answer had done little to allay her suspicions. Squaring her shoulders, Leanne expanded her statement, “Yes. Brandon and I are dating.”

Sort of.

“Are you at Wellington too?”

“Yes, I’m a doctoral candidate. In the English Department.”

“A doctoral candidate. In the English Department,” June mimicked. “That sounds like an important job.” She pursed her lips and began to hunt around the paperwork surrounding her computer. Finding a half-opened pack of cigarettes, she slid one free and set it between her lips.

“So tell me, as a doctoral candidate, what do you think about Brandon working for me?”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s a simple question. What do you think about his dancing at the club?”

“I—I think he is a very good dancer.”

“He’s one of the best dancers that’s ever walked across my stage. And when he’s backstage, he does a damn fine job there too. Has since the first day I hired him.” She paused thoughtfully before continuing, “But what I want to know is what a girl like you is doing with someone like Brandon. Are you proud of what he does when he’s not at the university?”

Leanne’s head spun. For once, she’d been content to live in the here and now. Yet this stranger’s unflinching questions drew forth all her secret worries.

“I hardly see how that is your business.” She evaded her adversary’s forceful gaze.

June rose from her chair, coming to a stop in front of her. Her pale eyes narrowed, the heavy eyeliner making them appear dark and menacing. Leanne put a few paces between them while she could.

“It’s my business when the man in question has had more hurt in his life than anyone should have to bear. I don’t know what game you’re playing but I’d hate to see him get hurt by someone who’s more concerned with appearances than substance. So ask yourself just what you want from this ‘relationship’ before Brandon falls for you any further,” she barked. “And while you’re at it, ask yourself what you plan on giving him too.”

Leanne gasped, her mind whirling at the woman’s charges. Brandon, falling for her? She had to be mistaken.

Before she could formulate a response to the club owner’s unexpected attack, Brandon emerged from the bathroom. The questions burning through her brain remained unspoken.

In a sweater and faded jeans, he was gorgeous. In a dark suit, his hair carefully styled and his tan set off by a striking maroon shirt and tie, he was truly the most stunning man Leanne had ever laid eyes on. The tailored jacket hung from his broad shoulders beautifully, emphasizing his lean, graceful body.

He grinned at the two waiting women and gestured at the suit. “Now you know what I look like at conferences and weddings.”

“You look good,” Leanne said with careful understatement, acutely conscious of the club owner’s attention as she walked over to Brandon and took his hand. His eyebrows raised at the gesture but he didn’t say anything, looking between the two women as if trying to unravel the cause of the tension between them.

“Everything set for tonight, June?” he asked. “I’ve been working on the tax remittances for this month. Something’s still not right with the numbers, though, so you might want to have a look.”

She nodded. “I’ll do that.” The silence that fell was thick and awkward “Well, if you don’t need me for anything else, Leanne and I should head out now.”

June drew on her cigarette and shook her head, blowing out the smoke in a long, thin stream. “You do that. And try to have fun at this country club,” she offered. “Sounds like a pretty swanky place.” It wasn’t a compliment.

The older woman shot her another sour look but didn’t say anything further. Leanne was ridiculously grateful when she reached the bottom of the steep flight of stairs and could no longer feel June’s eyes boring into her back.

They rode to the country club in near silence. Brandon tried to get her to talk a few times but other than offering perfunctory yes or no answers, Leanne hadn’t been in the mood to chat.

Her mind still reeled from her confrontation with June. She could hardly wrap her head around the woman’s accusations. She made it sound as if Leanne was some sort of unmitigated snob. She was well aware of her shortcomings, thank you very much, but never in her entire life had anyone dared accuse her of being wrapped up in appearances. That was Gillian’s bag, not hers. And she had never, in the remotest possible way, had anything in common with Gillian.

After all, what could be more public than Brandon accompanying her to this dinner? And she’d even invited him to meet her friends. Hardly the actions of a woman ashamed.

She had reasons—valid reasons!—for keeping her relationship with Brandon quiet, but they had nothing to do with embarrassment or his profession. It was just easier for both of them. Wanting to avoid disturbing their carefully balanced lives wasn’t cowardice.

Right?

Errr…

As she made the turn into the country club’s oak-flanked drive, she felt a shiver of apprehension. Leanne handed her keys to the valet and stepped into the cold night air. She cleared her throat and Brandon turned.

“About tonight…” she began, wondering how she could ever hope to explain the minefield into which Brandon was about to step. Her uneasy relationship with her mother? The bride-to-be?

She lowered her head to her hands and stifled a groan. What the heck had she been thinking, inviting Brandon here? As her date. She must be a glutton for punishment.

“Leanne,” he said, his low voice deep and reassuring. “I understood when you asked me.”

“You did?” He understood how difficult this was for her, coming face-to-face with the proof that she never measured up against her mother’s impossible standards?

“Sure I do. You asked me to come tonight because we’re friends and you needed someone to act as your date.” He took her cold hands in his, rubbing them gently. “It may seem hard to believe, but I
do
know how to behave in polite society.”

“I know that.”

“So I want you to take a deep breath and let yourself relax. We’ll get through the evening together. I promise it’ll be okay.” He leaned his head close to her ear and whispered, “And no matter how nicely anyone asks, I’ll only take my clothes off for you if there’s dancing.”

She laughed, the sound a little wheezy. The reassurance in his voice melted away the knot of panic twisting in the pit of her stomach. He’d see for himself she wasn’t the sexually adventurous and flirty woman he’d known this past week. Despite her academic achievements, her mother and her friends always made her feel as though she was doing something wrong with her life. Tonight, she’d enjoy showing them something she’d gotten right.

She plastered a bright smile on her face. He squeezed her hand and a warm flood of longing washed over Leanne’s body. Not sharp, driving lust but tenderness miles removed from their usual reckless passion. Even in the bright lights of the lobby, his fingers wrapped around hers felt dangerously intimate.

More worryingly, it felt surprisingly natural to be walking with him hand in hand.

“Well, that’s a relief. Because I kept waiting for you fling yourself out of the car when you realized just what you’d gotten yourself into.”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he said. For a moment, Leanne wished that it might be true.

Following the signs to the Fields-Saunders Rehearsal Dinner, they made their way across the club’s plush carpet. Brandon’s hand still held hers captive. She cast a questioning glance at him and looked down pointedly at their entwined fingers. Brandon simply smiled, revealing one of his dimples.

“I believe in doing things thoroughly.”

Before she could process his startling words, he pulled the door open and led them into the private dining room. The room was dotted with well-dressed groups of dinner guests, and waitstaff circulated with trays filled with champagne flutes. Her father hurried forward with a hearty greeting. “Leanne, Brandon. I’m so glad you could both make it.”

Drawing them forward, he began to conduct them around the room, stopping to introduce Brandon to Gillian’s parents.

“Barb, Paul, I’d like you to meet Leanne’s new boyfriend, Brandon Myles.”

Leanne opened her mouth to correct her father’s mistake, but before she could speak, Brandon extending his free hand and shook their hands, offering his congratulations on their daughter’s approaching nuptials.

Aunt Barb smiled coyly, her meticulously preserved face agog at the sight of her bookish goddaughter flanked by such a gorgeous man. She wagged a disapproving finger.

“Leanne, you’ve been holding out on us.”

Leanne smiled and settled for a noncommittal shrug. “It’s good to see you, Aunt Barb. How’s everything going with the wedding plans?”

Barbara launched into a saga of incompetent florists, misdirected calla lilies and a venue snafu that had seen the kitchens planning for a dairy-free meal when she’d specifically requested gluten-free.

Through the endless litany, Brandon kept Leanne’s fingers firmly entwined between his, his face never displaying a moment’s impatience.

“But Gillian’s been an angel through the whole process,” Barb finally concluded. “We’re all just so excited to welcome Jeremy into the family.”

“I’m sure.”

“But here I’ve been, monopolizing the conversation. So tell me, any big days in your future? I know your mom would love to help plan a big wedding herself, you know.”

Oh God. Kill me now.

This was why Leanne avoided weddings. It was bad enough having to attend on your own but when you brought a date, everyone asked intrusive questions about your future together as a couple.

But before she could work up a convincing lie, her father interjected. “I probably should make sure I introduce Brandon to Sandra.”

His eyes danced with merriment. Her father knew exactly how eager she was to escape Barb’s inquisition.

“Yes, that sounds good,” she said, ignoring the conspiratorial glance that passed between her dad and her date. But she feigned nonchalance and soon found herself trailing along as her father repeated the introductions to Jeremy’s parents, the entire wedding party and finally her mother.

“Sandy,” her dad called. “Come and I’ll introduce you to Brandon.”

Mom turned from her tête-à-tête with the bride and groom to gaze upon the newest arrivals. Her expression clearly reflected displeasure at being upstaged by her husband’s previous knowledge of this new romance.

“Hello, darling,” her mother said, giving her a restrained hug and taking the opportunity to correct an errant curl. “I was wondering when I’d finally get to meet this new mystery man of yours. Your father has been raving about his dinner out with the three of you all week. I guess you were too busy with school to keep me up to date on your life.” She sighed dramatically and Leanne fought an urge to bolt.

“And you must Leanne’s new boyfriend.”

“Brandon Myles. Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Galloway,” Brandon said politely. Leanne noted he carefully avoided confirming the title with his noncommittal greeting.

“Brandon.” Her father interrupted the uncomfortable silence. “You don’t have a drink. What can I get you? Leanne?”

“Rye and Coke.”

“White wine for me, Dad.”

“Lovely. I’ll be right back.”

“Hurry,” Leanne said as she watched her father make his way to the open bar. It sounded more like a fervent prayer than a polite request.

Brandon hadn’t missed the resemblance between Leanne and her father when they’d met at the theater. His eyes, his kind smile, his intelligent gaze all evident in his daughter’s face. But now, seeing Leanne next to her mother, he could see from whom she’d inherited her grace and dark beauty.

He studied the middle-aged woman standing across from him. Instead of Leanne’s riotous curls, her hair was cut short and carefully styled. She moved with the agility of the dancer her husband claimed she’d been in her younger days, and her figure was still trim and attractive.

But it was in her eyes and hands that he saw the greatest resemblance between mother and daughter. They shared the same deep brown eyes, wide and almond shaped, and her hands displayed the same the same slim-fingered elegance.

She’d shaken his hand politely enough, he supposed, but there’d been no mistaking her top-to-bottom appraisal. She taken in everything, from his shined shoes to his pressed dress shirt, and though her eyes had narrowed, she contained their conversation to wedding chitchat.

“Have you met the happy couple yet?”

“No, although Larry introduced us to Paul and Barbara earlier.”

“I’ve known Barb for more than forty years. Gillian’s like a second daughter to Larry and me.”

Beside him, Leanne stiffened, her fingers tightening around his palm, but she didn’t dispute her mother’s claim.

“It certainly sounds like it’s going to be a very nice wedding,” he replied diplomatically.

“Barb never does anything by half measures, and Paul’s real estate success means she never has to.

“Let me introduce you. It looks like Larry’s going to be a while getting your drinks.” She turned, and Brandon and Leanne followed dutifully until she was standing beside a tall man and a glamorous woman in dizzying heels with a perfect, model-like figure.

The couple turned and the man smiled widely. “Sandra. Great to see you again.”

Planting a kiss on the groom-to-be’s cheek, she embraced Gillian with familiarity.

“Aunt Sandy,” Gillian enthused. “And Leanne. How nice.”

That it was anything but nice for either Leanne or Gillian was clear to Brandon but Sandra Galloway seemed immured to the tension simmering between the two young women.

“Jeremy, I know you’ve met my daughter, Leanne, before.”

“Many times. How are you?”

“Very well, thanks, Jeremy.”

“And this is my daughter’s friend, Brandon Myles.”

“Jeremy Fields.”

Brandon shook the other man’s hand, keeping his expression neutral when a Rolex peeped out from his immaculate French cuff. He’d bet a night of tips that Jeremy hadn’t picked the timepiece up for forty bucks at the nearest flea market. Not bad for someone who couldn’t be more than thirty-one or thirty-two.

“And our lovely goddaughter, Gillian.”

Brandon recognized her from the photo on the card she’d slipped him at the club. In person, she was even prettier than the tiny image had suggested. Her blond hair was styled into long, tousled curls. Her makeup played up her wide blue eyes. Her turquoise dress looked expensive and displayed an enticing amount of cleavage. Overall, the entire package had been meticulously crafted to convey an undeniable aura of sex appeal.

But her effort was wasted on Brandon. She’d shown her true colors when she tried to hire his services. Her readiness to betray the man she was about to marry didn’t sit well with him. Of course, he doubted she’d ever connect him with the dancer who stripped at her bachelorette party.

If Jeremy’s besotted look was any indication, she’d gone to great pains to hide her true nature from her fiancé and succeeded. But the eyeliner and mascara couldn’t mask the predatory light in her eyes. He’d seen her type too many times.

Gillian quickly went on the offensive, smiling in a too-bright manner. “Leanne, what a dark horse you are. You didn’t mention you were bringing anyone to tonight’s dinner.” She turned to Sandra and smiled at her godmother. “Lee was so down Saturday night, Aunt Sandy, whenever she talked about the wedding. But I’m glad you found
someone
who didn’t mind coming out with you tonight. That’s so
nice
of your friend.”

Brandon’s hackles rose at Gillian’s sarcasm, her pointed emphasis making it clear she’d judged him nothing more than a pity date. He waited to see just how Leanne’s mother would react to the slight against her daughter. To his surprise, she seemed oblivious to the insult, launching in to one of her own.

“Well, it was good of you to invite Leanne, sweetie. She doesn’t get out much.” Sandra frowned as she weighed her daughter’s classically styled dress against Gillian’s over-the-top ensemble.

Brandon was startled. He’d always assumed that his dysfunctional family was fundamentally different from the loving, unbroken ones he’d looked at so wistfully as a child. The obvious love and affection he’d seen between father and daughter beguiled him into thinking Leanne’s family life had been idyllic and without turmoil.

It wasn’t his place to jump in and defend Leanne. It would be presumptuous of him and, knowing her fierce sense of independence, unwelcome. But he could barely believe his ears, listening to the two women speak about Leanne as if she wasn’t even there. Anger on her behalf choked him; he glanced to see how she was handling this provocation.

He grew angrier still. She seemed to have shrunk into herself. Her shoulders were tight and clenched, the humor usually so evident in her face absent. She looked less insulted than resigned, and that fired his indignation more than anything else.

Could her own mother be so oblivious that she couldn’t discern what an amazing woman Leanne was? How vibrant and how effortlessly classy? Was she blind or just jealous? He wanted to growl “Open your goddamn eyes, take another look,” but even as the impulse flashed across his mind, he knew he didn’t have the right. Whatever there was between Leanne and himself—a friendship, a transient sexual charge or…something else entirely—it was only a temporary arrangement. He strongly suspected that she would take a very dim view of his chivalry.

Screw it.

He didn’t care if he stepped over the line. Leanne deserved better than to listen to these two lambast her style, her personality and her inability to attract a boyfriend.

“It’s kind of you to be concerned, Gillian,” he interjected, lifting Leanne’s hand, her fingers still entwined with his, into view. “But actually, Leanne and I have been seeing each other for a while. She didn’t bring it up Saturday night because she wanted the focus to be on you. After all, you’re only a bride once,” he said, pausing before adding, “usually.” He grinned to show he was joking and Jeremy, reaching out to squeeze his intended affectionately, laughed loudly.