The Garrisons: Cassie, Adam & Brooke. Brenda JacksonЧитать онлайн книгу.
features. “I’m sorry. Were you close to your father?”
“Yes, we were extremely close. In fact we were partners at our firm,” he said truthfully. “My mother died of cancer before I reached my teens so it had been just my dad and I for a long time.”
She nodded and then said, “My father passed away a little over four months ago and my mom a month before that.”
Brandon heard the pain of her words in her voice and from the light from the electrical torches that lit the parking lot, he actually saw tears in her eyes. He stopped walking just a few feet from where their car was parked and instinctively pulled her into his arms. She offered no resistance when he gathered the warmth of her body against his. He briefly closed his eyes, regretting this cruel game he was playing with her.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered in her ear, in a way for both her loss as well as his lies. Her loss was sincere and he actually felt her pain. She had loved both her parents immensely. For the first time since John’s death, Cassie Sinclair-Garrison had become a real person and just not a name on a document on a file in his office. And not just the person with whom Parker had a beef.
“I didn’t mean to come apart like that,” Cassie said, moments later, stepping back out of Brandon’s arms, looking somewhat embarrassed.
“It’s okay. I can understand the depth of your pain. I’ve lost both of my parents, but when my mom died at least I had my dad to keep things going, providing a sense of stability in my life. But your parents died fairly close to each other. I can’t imagine how you endured such a thing. Do you have other siblings?” he asked, wondering if she would acknowledge the Miami Garrisons.
She gave him a distracted look, as if thinking deeply on his question. Then she said, “My father had other children but I’ve never met them.”
“Not even at the funeral?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
She shrugged. “No, not even then.” Then she quickly said, “I’d rather not talk about it anymore, Brandon. It’s rather private.”
He nodded. “I understand. Sorry for prying.”
She reached out and took his hand. “You weren’t prying. Everything’s sort of complicated right now.”
“Again I understand, but if you ever need to talk or need—”
“A shoulder to cry on again,” she said, trying to sound cheerful.
He chuckled. “Yes, a shoulder to cry on. I am available.”
“Thank you. How long will you be staying at the hotel?”
He paused to open the car door for her. “A week. What about you?”
She waited until she was inside and glanced up at him and said. “Indefinitely. I work at the hotel and depending on how my days are, I sometimes spend the night there instead of driving all the way home. I have a private suite. My home is on the other side of the island.”
“I see,” Brandon said before closing the door. He had given her another opportunity but she had yet to tell him she owned the hotel.
After walking around the car and getting inside he turned to her before starting the ignition. “I’m glad you came to dinner with me tonight. What are your plans for tomorrow?”
She smiled. “I have a meeting in the morning and then I’ll be leaving for my home. I won’t be returning to the hotel until Thursday morning.”
Brandon leaned forward and smiled. “Is there anyway I can weasel another dinner date out of you?”
Cassie laughed. “Another dinner date?”
“Yes, I’ll even be happy if you wanted to treat me to some of your good cooking.”
“And what makes you think I can cook?”
“A hunch. Am I wrong?”
She shook her head. “No, you’re right. Not to sound too boastful or conceited, although I don’t spend a whole lot of time in the kitchen since I usually eat at the hotel, I can cook. That was one of my mom’s biggest rules. And because of it, I was probably one of the few girls in my dorm at college who could fend for herself.”
He chuckled. “And where did you attend college?”
“I went to a school in London and got a degree in business administration.”
Brandon was still smiling when he finally decided to dig deeper by asking, “And just what is your position at the hotel? You never did say.”
From her expression he could tell she was somewhat startled by his question. He was forcing her to make a decision as to whether or not she trusted him enough to tell him that much about herself.
“Evidently,” she finally said, “you didn’t make the connection when I gave my name earlier tonight.”
He lifted a dark brow. “And what connection is that?”
Cassie held on to his gaze. “Garrison. I own the Garrison Grand-Bahamas.”
Three
“You own the hotel?” Brandon asked, seemingly surprised by what she’d said and trying not to place much emphasis on what she’d just revealed and raise her suspicions about his motives for being there.
“Yes, my father left it to me when he died.”
Brandon brought the car to a stop at a traffic light and used that opportunity to look directly at her. “Then you must feel proud that he had such faith and confidence in your abilities to do such a thing.”
The smile she gave him extended straight from her eyes and he suddenly felt his gut clench from the effect those dark eyes had on him. “Thanks. And he did know of my capabilities because I’d managed the hotel for the past five years.”
He nodded when the car began moving again. “That might be true but I’m sure managing a hotel is a lot different than owning it. It’s a big responsibility to place on anyone’s shoulders and evidently he felt, and I’m sure justly so, that you could handle the job.”
“Thank you for saying that,” she said softly. “That was very kind of you.”
“I’m just telling you the way I see it,” he said, bringing the car to a stop in the parking lot of the hotel. “Now getting back to the subject of seeing you again tomorrow …” he said smoothly.
She shook her head, grinning. “You don’t give up, do you?”
“Not without a fight,” he said sincerely. “And if you don’t feel like having me try out your cooking skills, I’d love to take you to another restaurant tomorrow evening. I understand several in this area come highly recommended.”
Trying to ignore the urge to laugh from the intensity of his plea, she smiled. Since she’d taken ownership of her mother’s home a few months ago, no man had crossed its threshold and she hadn’t planned for one to cross over it anytime soon. But for some reason the thought of Brandon visiting her home didn’t bother her, which could only mean one thing. She really liked him.
Pushing her hair away from her face she said, “I would love having dinner again with you tomorrow and I insist it be my treat. At my home. And I will proudly show you just what a good cook I am.”
Brandon grinned. “I’ll look forward to it.”
He got out of the car and walked around it to open the door for her. What he’d said was true. He was looking forward to it but not for the reason that he should be. A part of him wished like hell that her last name wasn’t Garrison.
“Thank you, Brandon,” she said when he offered her his hand. “I’ll leave a sealed envelope with directions to my home for you at the front desk tomorrow,” she added when they stood at her door. “It’s in Lyford Cay.”
“And