When the Smoke Clears, page 5
“Mr. Jasper deserves the truth.”
“What is the truth, Dr. Nichols?” Brenden asked, cocking his head. “Because right now it’s blurry. I have my niece telling me she’s sought your help and assistance from advisors in your stead only to get the runaround. Katie says every time she comes to your office she gets a different answer.” He stood and stalked toward Paige. “Let me be frank, ma’am. It seems you and your office have been incompetent where my niece is concerned. How do you have the gall to declare my niece unfit when it seems you haven’t been doing your job?”
“How dare you!” Paige sprang from her chair, meeting Brenden where he stood on the opposite side of Katie. “I’ve had more than a few conversations with your niece. Kathryn uses school as a Band-Aid to cover the pain she still experiences from the death of her parents. She has potential”—Paige looked to the girl and gave a wilted smile—“but without someone to help her through this rough patch, she will remain lost.”
“Dr. Nichols,” Jankowski spoke with all his authority. “Please excuse yourself.”
Paige swallowed hard, Brenden seemingly even harder. The heat igniting between them would burn Satan out of hell.
“You need to leave, Dr. Nichols.” Brenden’s lips pressed. He hesitated then glanced to Katie before taking a single step back.
“Gladly.” With a simple spin of the heel, Paige turned and left the president’s office.
Chapter Five
Brenden drew in a deep breath then dashed into the final quarter of his five-mile run. His legs burned as his feet beat the white-powder sands of Clearwater Beach. The burn spread to his lungs and up his throat, but it was nothing compared to what he felt after realizing Paige had walked away from him again.
Again. He pressed harder to the finish, chasing the mental image of her from his memory. The invigorating air of the trade winds slapped his skin until his stride broke into a winded walk. He muttered a curse while reaching for the shirt tucked into his shorts. For the umpteenth time, his mind conjured brown skin, innocent eyes, full lips, and long, black hair blowing from a third-story balcony.
Two uneventful days had passed since their run-in at the university. He wanted to see her, feel her, kiss her…and everything else with her. Which surprised him on his most logical level, considering the circumstances of her advocating for his niece to be dismissed from school and, since in the two years he had been on-again, off-again with Megan, she had never made him this irrational.
In all honesty, he was grateful, because he couldn’t be thinking about a woman while jumping from a chopper or taking targets by night vision. Paige Nichols had to remain off-limits—especially since the woman didn’t seem to think Katie was Andover material.
“Brenden!”
His gaze snapped to his house in the near distance. Why the fuck was Megan there waving from the balcony? What did he have to do for her to realize there was no going back? Not once since he returned had he bothered to call her. He’d used the last two months to stretch the chasm between them, but obviously not wide enough.
Brenden sucked down his frustrations, began a slow stroll, and entered the secure path leading to his deck.
Before he could say anything, Megan wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head in his chest. Her usual dislike of his sweatiness was nowhere to be found. However, he knew she knew this was his designated evening out with the boys. The queen of manipulation was at it again.
“When’d you get here?” Brenden attempted being polite for the sake of Katie and her houseguests as he kicked off his sneakers and wiped his body with his shirt.
“A few minutes ago.” She reached up to peck his lips, but he lowered his head and then reached down to grab his shoes. “Katie let me in. I was surprised to see you allowed a sleepover on an off weekend.”
He shrugged, opening the sliding glass door to a laughter-filled family room. He owed Megan no explanations, and his niece needed a distraction from the impending situation with Andover.
“Morning,” Katie’s entourage sang in chorus as he and Megan stepped inside.
“Good morning, ladies.” He smiled politely.
“Geez, would y’all stop gawking at my uncle?” Katie giggled as her friends blushed before turning their attention back to pancakes and bacon.
Brenden avoided the budding episode of crush-struck college freshmen and zoomed from the kitchen. Before he could ask Megan to leave, an envelope with Andover’s crest peeked at him from the hall table. He retrieved it and saw that it was addressed to Katie. “Katie,” he called.
His niece came around the corner with downcast eyes, fidgeting with her ponytail. “Sorry about that.”
“Oh please, Laurel and Zoe are always like that.”
“I’m talking about Megan.” Katie’s lip curled in annoyance as she side-eyed the woman. “She practically barged in.”
Before Megan could offer a rebuttal, he shook his head, then watched her back up into a corner. His territorial ex-girlfriend’s pop-up appearance was still doing a number on him, which was why it was taking him so long to calculate the least confrontational options for dismissal. “That’s not important. Did you see this?” He presented her with the letter from Andover.
Katie folded her arms and dropped her head. “No,” she sighed. “But I’m sure it’s not a notice of reinstatement. Promise me you won’t get Grandma Joan involved. I can handle this.”
“If that were the case, I wouldn’t have had to meet with the president and provost. You’re not making sense. All you’ve wanted since you were—”
“I lied, Uncle Bren.” She finally met Brenden’s now pensive stare. “Dr. Nichols did help me. Every time I went to her office, she made time for me. She advised me to seek grief counseling or something called art therapy, and even offered to do it herself. But…I was ashamed and scared of what people—”
“What?” His jaw tightened as his nostrils flared. “Dr. Nichols could have lost her job over this.”
A brush of relief touched him while he fought his anger over Katie’s lies and began pacing. Somehow he had to make amends. At the least, ensure Paige still had a job. He couldn’t just throw on clothes and barge into Andover on a Saturday, and even if he could, who would be there? Administrative offices at the university were closed on weekends.
Two whole days had passed since his standoff with her in McPherson’s office. At this moment he felt like the biggest asshole for demanding she be let go after she had left the president’s office. She had done nothing wrong except execute the policies and procedures of the university.
His niece, on the other hand, had lied and made him pull rank on Preston McPherson, something he never did. Only, he would do anything to guarantee Katie’s happiness, even if it meant compromising his own. It was unfortunate her dishonesty had cost him a chance to explore something beyond a night of great sex with Paige.
“I know. I’m sorry,” she whimpered, “and she didn’t lose her job.”
His eyes sliced into her. “That I will verify, but understand I won’t tolerate you lying to me. You’ve broken my trust, and you know how much that means to me.”
The rims of her blue eyes filled with liquid pools. He didn’t care. She needed to understand the severity of her actions.
“I’m sorry, Uncle Bren.”
“Sorry?” He leaned in to her face. “Sorry doesn’t apply when your actions are deliberate.”
“Brenden, Katie, let’s calm down here.” Megan pushed to stand between them.
“This does not concern you.” He gave Megan a glare deserving of a life sentence. “This is between me and my niece.”
“Fine.” She threw her arms up and backed away.
A grimace etched onto Brenden’s face as Megan stomped up the stairs. Once again he began pacing the foyer. Thoughts of getting rid of Megan were hijacked by the memory of Katie crying as he entered his home from his last mission. Had he not been so consumed with the next mission, or thinking of finding Paige, or—each thought was moot.
Hindsight was a bitch. Paige had mentioned his sister’s death and Katie’s need for counseling. At the time none of it meant a thing if Katie was being kicked out of school. Brenden slumped his shoulders, guilt weighing him down like a rucksack he carried for fifty miles in the desert. The idea of Paige being reprimanded, or worse, made jobless on account of his lying-ass, seventeen-year-old niece was pure torture.
“We have to make this right.” He pointed a finger at Katie. “You will make this right. You will find Dr. Nichols and offer an apology. Understand she is within her rights to be upset.”
“She’s not mad at me.” Her small voice halted his barefoot pace. “I…I went to her office yesterday and apologized, and I also requested her for grief counseling. She issued a deferral on my dismissal pending the outcome of the counseling and this semester’s grades. Our sessions will start Monday. I didn’t tell you yet because I didn’t know how.”
There was no comfort in her words. She had disappointed him beyond measure with her dishonesty. In his world, your word was what made you good. He knew he had to separate those feelings from the mistake of his immature niece.
He also understood that most people, him included, shied away from someone shrinking their head. The mind was a landfill. Uncovering grief associated with one incident would expose other stowaways. None of which were pretty.
Brenden turned from Katie’s tears and stormed up the stairs. He entered his room, slamming the door, and stripped from his running shorts. His chest was so tight, he had to fight for breath as he stepped inside the glass shower enclosure. One, two, maybe three minutes passed before the blanket of mist and hot water helped subdue the tension of Katie’s revelation.
He braced his arms against the travertine walls, hung his head low, and submerged his body under the warm shower spray. The water felt good rolling over his body, washing sweat and sand particles from the morning run. If only he could make the last time he saw Paige as clean.
A cool breeze nipped his neck before fingertips slid up his lats then worked circles into his mid traps. His jawline tightened, and he felt like Sampson between the two pillars.
“Stop.” He turned his face up into the cascade and then stood upright, reaching for his washcloth and soap.
Megan’s hands rested at his waist for a second. She gave an audible sigh then pulled the soapy cloth from his hands and began washing his back. He turned to her before she went too far below the belt. Her large boobs greeted his chest with tight nipples.
A dirty little smile curved her lips. She came closer until her flesh surrounded him. “We haven’t done it like this in a while.” She went down on her knees.
Brenden stepped back. Megan contradicted everything he wanted. “We’re not doing this, Megan.”
“Why?” She shot to her feet, forcing her body against his. “Let me make you feel good.”
He reclaimed his washcloth from the shower floor. “No. There is nothing you can do to make me feel good. We’re finished. You need to leave.”
He turned his back on her too-shocked face. Before he knew it, the shower door slammed and he looked through the glass as Megan wrapped herself in a towel and left the bathroom.
Hopefully, she would leave without creating too much drama for Katie and her friends’ viewing pleasure. He didn’t have the energy to argue with Megan, not while Katie’s confession lingered in his mind. Katie’s inability to be honest with him proved how much she needed him, and he needed Paige. Not just for himself, but to help his niece be the girl he knew when his sister was alive.
Brenden finished rinsing and cut the shower. He stepped from the enclosure, ignored the light sobs of his delusional ex, and began moving around the room. Even if a part of him felt sorry for Megan, he knew not to engage because she would think his actions meant more.
“Who is she, Brenden?” Her voice floated in from his private balcony.
This was Megan’s toxic game. Her savage attempt to start an argument and get him too pissed to go enjoy a night out with the boys. But it wouldn’t work tonight, not when he was already formulating alternate plans. “I still don’t know why you’re here. I’ve told you. We. Are. Done.”
“After two years?” She shouted a string of harsh curses. “You promised!”
“I’m done hearing that speech.” Brenden toweled his damp hair. “We’ve had two off-and-on years. I kept my promise.”
“Brenden.” Megan rushed from the balcony to him. “I’m sorry about the arguments.” Her eyes grew wide with panic. “I just feel like…like you don’t want the life that has been waiting for us. Can I just have us back?”
“Katie needs me right now, Megan. She’s having—”
“So it’s Katie? Are you sure you aren’t fucking one of her little friends?”
“What?” He recoiled. Further confirmation of why he needed Megan gone from his life.
“Those girls are all giggles. Gawking as you stroll in from your morning run half naked while they parade around in their pajamas.”
“You’ve lost your damn mind.” His eyes narrowed. “I’m a fucking thirty-four-year-old man. What the fuck do I want with one of my niece’s friends?”
“Then is it the girl from Tariq’s New Year’s party? I’ve heard rumors. You couldn’t keep your eyes off some Black girl.” A pained smile came to her face while Brenden shook, attempting to control his rage. “Did you fuck her?”
“And if I did?” He squared his shoulders, jaw twitching. “You and I are not together.”
Emotions he didn’t normally possess flooded him. He was done bearing the weight of his guilt. Being with Megan hadn’t quelled his nightmares or erased his hurt. In fact, the woman only served to remind him that he’d failed and lost a comrade.
“You made a promise!” she screamed. “We’re supposed to be together. I’m going to be your wife—the wife of a lieutenant colonel—and give you children. Children who will carry the Jasper name and seal the bond of two of America’s most influential political families.”
Brenden closed his eyes, pressing his lips together, and looked away. So much had happened since that night. No longer would it hold him hostage. He recomposed himself and faced her. “I’m sorry…I’m still not in love with you. If it hasn’t happened by now, I don’t think it ever will.”
He walked away from her toward his closet. “Again, please leave. My niece is downstairs with her friends, and the last thing I need is you making a scene.”
Minutes passed before he heard the door to his room open, then slam closed. Megan had conceded for now. Twenty-four hours might pass before she was up to her old tricks, but he knew none of it would work. He noted her lack of respecting the time he needed to devote to Katie. There was no way he would turn his back on family. Worse, he noted the prejudice in her voice at the “Black girl” comment.
Paige had respected Katie long before she knew him. In fact, she had agreed to counsel his niece despite her misdeeds. That one act revealed the strength in her character while fueling his desire to have her.
Brenden gave in to the impulse he had fought since the morning after New Year’s. He picked up his phone, dialed Rod, and then padded over to the balcony. He relaxed in a lounge chair and watched the turquoise waves of the Gulf roll in.
“Sup, Jas?” Rod’s deep baritone, full of sleep, greeted Brenden.
Brenden disregarded it and the feminine whispers of Tia, Rod’s wife, in the background. “I need a trace.”
“What you got?”
“A name,” he took a breath, again contemplating this. “Paige Nichols.”
Rod chuckled. “The green dress?”
Brenden grunted. Rod knew? He hadn’t discussed Paige with him or any of his boys. “Yes.”
“About damn time.”
“The fuck, Rod?”
“Man, Jas, that girl’s had you gone since Mosul. She’s not like Megan. But honestly, man, you should avoid this. She’s a complication. Any woman who can take your head out the game is.”
“And Tia isn’t?” Brenden stood and leaned against the rail. “Christ, you married her.”
“And every time we hit the smoke, I’m afraid of never seeing her again.” Rod sighed into the line. “You know what I’m referencing. Our job, our duty, who and what we come in contact with puts those we love in jeopardy. We become forgetful of the vulnerabilities, the very reason why attachments of this nature complicate what we do.” Silence stretched between them. “I’m just giving you the disclaimer that was given to me. I know it doesn’t matter, because the heart is fond of complication.”
Brenden’s head fell back and his gaze went to the sky. He knew Rod was right. His stance didn’t change. “Download results of the trace to my Q8. See ya tonight.”
Chapter Six
“Belli, come help me!” Paige blew at her bangs as she struggled with the side zipper on her saucy little black-and-white number.
“So, let me get this right.” Bellamy pranced into Paige’s bedroom, meeting her gaze in the vintage floor mirror. “You don’t like Richard, but you’ve agreed to go on a date with him because he sent you some ‘I’m sorry’ flowers?”
Paige didn’t respond. Instead she refocused her attention on the stubborn zipper. Her efforts to manipulate the fabric so it would close along her hourglass figure were in vain.
“Paige—”
“It’s not a date,” she huffed. “You know the Jaresiti exhibit is co-funded by my research. I have to be there. I need to rub shoulders and secure the last bit of funding needed for the new arts wing. Attending this event with Richard helps. He’s promised to introduce me to a few potential donors.”
Bellamy smacked her teeth. “Whatever. People who know art know you. Your graduate thesis is legendary and the entire creative community goes wild whenever you come out of hiding from Academic Affairs to teach a course. You don’t need Richard to help you rub shoulders.”
