Genuine Lies

so much ground. You broke into my home, you stole from me, you destroyed things I was fond of, and you invaded the privacy of a woman I am more than fond of, a woman I respect and admire, and who is a guest in my home.” She threw up a hand before he could speak. “I’m not telling you you won’t work in this town again, Drake. That’s much too melodramatic and clichéd. But you won’t work for me again.”
    His sense of relief and delight had faded. A lecture would have been one thing—a few threats he could have handled. But this kind of punishment was worse, and more permanent than a few licks with a belt behind the barn. He’d be damned if he’d stand for being whipped by a woman again.
    “You’ve got no right to treat me this way, to toss me aside like I was nothing.”
    “I’ve got every right to fire an employee I find unsuitable.”
    “I’ve done good things for you.”
    Her brow arched at the minor audacity. “Then we’ll consider the scales balanced. That check is all the money you’ll ever see from me. Think of it as your inheritance.”
    “You can’t!” He grabbed her arm before she could walk from the room. “I’m family, all you’ve got. You can’t cut me out.”
    “Be assured I can. I’ve earned every nickel of what I have—something you couldn’t possibly understand. What I have will go where I chose it to go.” She yanked her arm free. “I don’t reward betrayal, Drake, and in this case, I’m not even going to punish it. I’ve just given you back your life. Make something of it.”
    He rushed after her as she started out and down the steps.“You’re not going to leave it all to that bastard Winthrop. I’ll see you in hell first.”
    She whirled around at the base of the stairs. The look in her eyes had him freezing in mid-step. “You very likely will see me there. Until then, you and I are finished.”
    It wasn’t going to happen. He sat down on the steps, holding his head in his hands as the slamming of the door reverberated. It couldn’t happen. He’d make her see he couldn’t be bought off with a lousy hundred grand.

Brandon sat on the fourposter in the big, airy bedroom in the main house and watched his mother finish packing. “How come when ladies pack for the weekend and stuff, they have more junk than guys do?”
    “That, my son, is one of the mysteries of the universe.” She added another blouse, guiltily, to the garment bag. “Are you really sure you’re not upset that you’re not coming to London with me?”
    “Heck no. I’m going to have lots more fun at the McKennas than you are talking to some old actor. They’ve got Nintendo.”
    “Well, Rory Winthrop can’t compete with that.” She zipped the bag, then checked her tote to see that all her toiletries and cosmetics were there. She shook her head as she tested the weight. Not a mystery at all, she thought. It was straight vanity. “CeeCee’s going to be here any minute. Did we pack your toothbrush?”
    “Yes, ma’am.” He rolled his eyes. “You checked my bag twice already.”
    Because she was checking it again, she missed the look.“Maybe you should take an extra jacket. In case it rains.” Or in case L.A. was suddenly swept by a snowstorm, floods, tornadoes. Earthquakes. Oh, Christ, what if there was an earthquake while she was gone? Struck with the fear and guilt that hit her whenever she left Brandon, she turned to look at him. He was bouncing gently on the bed and humming, his prized Lakers cap low on his head. “I’m going to miss you, baby.”
    He winced, as any self-respecting ten-year-old would when referred to as baby. At least they weren’t in public. “I’ll be okay and everything. You don’t have to worry.”
    “Yes, I do. That’s my job.” She walked over to hug him, pleased when his arms came around her for a tight squeeze. “I’ll be back by Tuesday.”
    “Are you going to bring me something?”
    She tipped his head back. “Maybe I will.” She kissed both his cheeks. “Don’t grow too much while I’m gone.”
    He grinned. “Maybe I will.”
    “I’ll still be bigger. Come on, let’s get this show on the road.” She picked up her briefcase—trying to remember if she’d checked to be sure she’d put her passport and tickets in the right compartment—slung the tote over one shoulder, the garment bag over the other. Brandon hoisted his well-stuffed gym bag, all the modern boy needed for a few days with friends.
    It didn’t occur to either