Page 55 of Nothing to Win

This was easy for him.He was used to walking into rooms full of intimidating figures and still coming out on top.That was alien to her.Coming out on top?Ha, she was lucky to be in the room.And until Brogan showed her another way, it never occurred to her to question her parents’ reluctance to let her make her own choices and fly free.

File that existential thought for later.

All she could do was swallow and nod.They’d come all the way here, was she suggesting they tuck tail and run?Brogan Spurn was not a tuck tail kind of guy and she wouldn’t turn him into one.She was proud to stand beside him; if only she could be as worthy a person to stand beside.

His gaze was encouraging; it reminded her she wasn’t alone here anymore.Not yet anyway.In a few weeks this would be her life again.Maybe that’s what mired her mood.She didn’t want to be reminded of the way things had been and how they would continue to be after Brogan vanished from her life.

The driver opened the door to let Brogan out first.It was his hand that helped her out and upright.He tucked her fingers into the crook of his elbow and ascended the stairs with her firmly at his side.

The door opened as they reached the top.It was nice to see Twyla, a friend, but they didn’t get the chance to exchange words.

Her father’s body man stood waiting for them.“This way,” he said, going before she processed the command.

This was her family home, where she grew up, and there she was following someone as though she didn’t recognize it.She knew where every dining room was but played the dutiful role.It helped to have Brogan’s strength beside her.

The smallest dining room would have been best if they were only a party of five.They bypassed that room to go a little deeper and into the slightly larger dining room that held a full bar.That wouldn’t be why they were eating there.Nope, it also happened to be where her father mounted and housed his various business awards.Turned out he really was that insecure.

With a deep breath that she didn’t let out, she crossed into the room where her father, mother, and brother waited, make that drank, where they waited and drank.Alcohol.That was more pertinent and a state she envied.

“You’re late,” her father asserted.Already the lines were chiseled into the harsh judgment on his stony face.“We didn’t raise you to be rude.”

“Contrary to how your parents raised you, Conway, I see.”Brogan wouldn’t let up an inch.Her father deserved to be called out and she didn’t have the courage to do it herself.“We are right on time.And if you want this night to be successful you will show your daughter respect.”

“Who do you think you are to—”

“We will be civil,” her father said, cutting off her brother.“Just remember where you are, Spurn.This is our house, not yours.”

“And Gianna is my girl, not yours.Disrespect her and I’ll dedicate my life to ripping your legacy to shreds.”

Okay, not the best, most jovial, start to the evening.But hot?Yeah, it was hot.If only she could focus longer on that part.Reaching for the positive?Uh… at least everyone was being honest.Did that count?Only if it lasted.Chances of that were low.Gee, that hotel sounded good right about now.

“Do we all have drinks?”she asked.

Though the family home had never been so unwelcoming, she’d got used to playing hostess with Brogan and learned a lot from Roxie’s charm.

Her family had glasses in their hands.The question was meant to move things along.It didn’t.The men still growled at each other.This was going to be a long night.

“If we sit, wine will be poured for dinner,” her mother said before she could break off to go to the bar.

Wine?Yes, it was her usual preference, but if any situation called for something stronger, it would be this one.Yeah?

Brogan slid her chair in under her, and she avoided eye contact with her relatives as wine was poured and appetizers served.The lighting was low.Rather than create an intimate atmosphere, it was claustrophobic and sinister.This didn’t feel like home, not like Brogan’s.Here was oppressive and dark, she wanted to bathe in the light Brogan gave her.

As she laid her napkin in her lap, Brogan leaned in to murmur through her hair.“There’s a ‘45 Pinot Noir in the car.”

A whisper of a laugh curled her lips as she peeked at him.“There is not.”Challenging that, he almost imperceptibly crooked a brow.“Show-off.”

“Think I haven’t caught you eying it at home?”

“You’d get a helluva quid for that,” she whispered.

One corner of his mouth warmed.

“It’s rude to whisper,” her brother said from opposite her.

How fun it would be to swing a foot and whack his shin with her Spurn-funded Louboutin?

“It’s rude to interrupt a conversation,” Brogan said.