Chapter Twenty-Two
Tiffany
“I have to say, I was surprised to get your call.”
I look at Brady and give him a small smile. “Why is that, Brady?” I ask. “We are family, after all, are we not? Is it a crime to want to have brunch with family?”
He looks at me and I can see the wariness in his eyes. “Is that what we are, Tiffany? Family?”
“Of course, it is,” I say. “We're the only family we have left.”
“That's funny,” he says. “Because I tried maintaining a relationship with you for a long time. Because you are the only family I have left. And yet, you wanted nothing to do with me.”
I take a sip of my mimosa and set the glass back down on the table, saying nothing for a moment. Mr. Haas came back with nothing for me on Amanda Johnston. Poor girl, grew up in an abusive home in California, worked in a coffee house – until she got fired. In school studying to be a child psychologist. It's all a sad story that I can perhaps, use to embarrass her, but nothing that I can use as the scalpel I need to excise her from Brady's – and by extension, my – life.
There is nothing about her past that can even be construed as scandalous. Other than her growing up poor and abused, and apparently being a bit of a smart-mouthed bitch, there is really nothing I can use against her as leverage. Nothing I can use as a threat to get her to walk away from my half-brother. Which is rare. Most everybody has skeletons in their closets.
I look at Brady and give him my warmest, most ingratiating smile.
“Please understand my position, Brady,” she says. “I was essentially abandoned by our father. After he found out my mother was pregnant, he wanted nothing more to do with her. Or with me.”
He shakes his head. “That's not true, Tiffany,” he says. “I can remember plenty of times he tried to get together with you. It was your mother who shot it down every single time. It was your mother who wanted nothing to do with him.”
Lies. Lies fed to him by that dirtbag father of his. Which isn't all that surprising. Nor is Brady's blind acceptance of them. But, I can't really expect much more from him. After all, he's just another blind devotee of his father.
“Are you sure you won't have a mimosa?” I ask.
“No, thank you,” he says. “I'm fine.”
I shrug. “Suit yourself,” I say. “So, I hear you have a new woman in your life.”
He nods. “I do.”
“Well, tell me about her, Brady,” I say. “Is it serious? Is she the one?”
He sighs and looks at me. “Why are we here, Tiffany?”
“I thought it was to have brunch.”
He looks at me with a deadpan expression. “Let's drop the act, what do you say?” he says. “Let's just get down to the brass tacks here, huh?”
“Not much for small talk, are you?”
He shrugs. “I've got better things to do with my time,” he says. “You made your position on us ever being a family pretty clear over the years.”
“Brady,” I say, setting down my mimosa. “Can't you allow for somebody to have a change of heart?”
“Uh huh,” he says. “Change of heart, huh?”
“Yes, a change of heart.”
He picks at the napkin on the table in front of him. “And mind if I ask what's spurred this sudden change of heart?” he asks. “Given the way you've treated me over the years – which is like a damn leper, by the way – what is it that now has you on the let's-be-a-family bandwagon?”
I sigh. “Maybe it's the fact that I'm getting older,” I say. “And I realize that I'm more or less alone. It was always just my mother and me growing up, but now I don't even have her. Maybe, it's the fact that I'm seeing the importance of family and want to make amends with you.”
I don't. Not really. I just needed to get him here, to a public place – sans his girlfriend – so that I can employ my nuclear option. It's not necessarily something I necessarily want to do – like I said, I'm not a monster – but given the circumstances, it's something I have to do. There's too much at stake.
Brady sits back in his seat and sighs. I can tell he's torn. That's the one thing I have on my half-brother – he may not have many skeletons in his closet, but he's a sentimental sucker when it comes to family. I know his pressure point and know that if I squeeze it hard enough, for all of his cowboy swagger and bravado, he'll crumble.
If there's one thing I know about Brady Keating, it's that he desperately wants a family to love who will love him back.
“I don't know, Tiffany,” he says. “A lot’s happened. A lot's been said.”
“In the past,” I say. “That doesn't mean we can't build a new future.”
He sighs again and rubs the stubble on his jaw. “Yeah, maybe,” he says. “I need to think about it some.”
“Of course, you do,” I say. “You have my number, Brady.”
“I do.” He says as he gets to his feet and puts his hat on.
“I am sincere, Brady,” I lie. “I want nothing more than to be a family.”
He looks at me for a long moment. “Yeah, I guess we'll see.”
Turning around, he walks out of Brevia's. He is putting his swagger, tough-guy act on, but I can tell that inside, he's turning to jelly. It's a useful bit of information, though if everything else goes according to plan, it's information I won't have to act on.
But as he said, I guess we will see.