Brandi got to work early with the intention of getting to her office and not having to interact with any other employees along the way. Thankfully the building was quiet and she had the place to herself. She strode past empty desks and dark offices until she reached hers and slipped inside, closing the door behind her and taking a breath. She moved over to her desk and set her handbag in the bottom draw before sitting in her chair and looking at the work piled up on the surface of the desk.

She breathed through the panic. It would be okay. She just needed to take it one step at a time. There was a lot of work to catch up on but she would get through it if she just stayed focused.

Her computer came to life and she clicked through to her email. Peyton usually checked her email and flagged the ones she needed to deal with personally so her inbox wasn’t overflowing. Peyton had dealt with all the small details and had left her detailed notes about the things she needed to deal with. One email in particular caught her eye and she clicked on it to open it.

“Fuck,” she breathed.

Bloody Courtney. The woman had the gall to blame her for other members of the party getting sick and refused to pay for her services. The woman was such a bitch. She even accused Brandi of propositioning her husband and was warning Brandi that she would take her complaint to the Office of Fair Trading. Brandi dropped her head in her hands and tried to control her breathing. She had two options; fight the complaint and demand Courtney paid what was owed or let it go. She wanted to fight it and she wanted to level accusations of her own against Courtney’s husband, but it would get messy and would eventually hurt her and her business in the long run. It would be wiser to just agree to a non-payment and move on.

Ugh! That really did hurt. She wanted to burn Courtney with the fire of a thousand suns! The malevolent, conniving bitch had probably had this planned all along. She’d just wanted to humiliate Brandi in front of their old school friends. That was the only reason she had booked the party and now to have the fucking gall to refuse to pay when it was her fucking daughter who’d made everyone sick was just so infuriating. Brandi wanted to smite her. The anger that raged inside her was almost uncontrollable and Brandi had to jump to her feet and pace because she couldn’t sit still. She clenched her hands into fists and swore a blue streak as she paced around the office.

What the hell was she supposed to do? Just walk away meekly and let Courtney get away with slandering her and her company? Surely she had some sort of recourse, some way to refute the false accusations. It just seemed so unfair that Courtney could throw around words like ‘food poisoning’ and ‘proposition’ without any proof. She could trash her in online reviews and completely ruin her fledgling business and Brandi would have no way to fight it.

“So you’ve read the email then?” Peyton said, startling Brandi.

Peyton stood in the doorway of the office and looked at her with concern.

“I have,” she replied.

“I spoke to legal about it,” Peyton said coming in to the room and closing the door behind her. “They are prepared to draft a letter - a cease and desist letter.”

“What does that mean?”

“They will refute her claims, citing that they have medical proof that the illness contracted from the party was not food poisoning. They will tell her that we will waive the fee of the party but if she is found to be spreading rumours or trashing the company publicly then she will be prosecuted for slander.”

“Can they do that?” Brandi asked.

Peyton shrugged. “I think it is more of a scare tactic than anything.”

Brandi’s heart rate slowed and her breathing became easier as Peyton’s news calmed her. This was so unlike her. She was not the type of person to fly off the handle or get so angry that she couldn’t think straight. Was this the anger stage of grief that she was experiencing? It had to be, otherwise it just didn’t make sense. This wasn’t who she was. Brandi had always been a peacemaker, a dedicated non-combatant. But after reading Courtney’s email she had wanted to do physical damage to the other woman and now that the crisis had passed, she was horrified with herself.

Was she angry that Caitlyn had died? Yes. There were no two ways about it. Brandi was fucking incensed that Caitlyn died. Did that mean she was going to be lashing out at everything that upset her until this feeling passed? She didn’t know and that worried her. She felt too full of emotion. Whereas before she felt numb, now it was like she was being bombarded by feelings and it was all too much to cope with. It felt as if she was overflowing and right now, anger was the most prevalent and easy accessible emotion. Brandi felt a little like how she imagined the Hulk felt before transforming into a large green monster.

The phone on her desk rang and Peyton crossed the office to answer it.

“It’s for you,” she said, holding the handset out to Brandi.

Brandi took it and lifted it to her ear. “Hello?”

“Brandi,” Declan’s voice came over the line and immediately she calmed. “How’re you doing?”

Brandi’s body sagged into her chair and she laid her head on the desk, keeping the handset to her ear.

“I’m about ready to rampage through downtown causing as much destruction as I can,” she replied.

“Bad day?”

She huffed out a laugh. It was barely nine in the morning and already her day had gone to shit but Declan was able to bring a smile to her face.

“It’s better now,” she said.

The intercom on Declan’s desk buzzed and he huffed in annoyance. Taking the week off to spend with Brandi had been good in theory but he had now been back at work for a week and he was still playing catch up. In fact, he’d been so busy that he had hardly seen her, although they kept in contact via phone and email. Tonight they were going out to dinner and then the weekend stretched out before them, in which he planned to spend as much time with her as he could to make up for his neglect.

“Yes,” he said impatiently into the intercom.

“You have a visitor,” Shelley replied.

“I thought I made it clear that I wasn’t to be interrupted?” he growled.

“It’s your mother,” she replied.

He made sure his finger wasn’t on the talk button and swore. “Fuck.”

The last thing he needed right now was to speak to his mother. He was still reeling from the little chat he’d had with his father. Legal was looking into his options and Brooks was taking the lead on setting up the shell company so that if the opportunity arose, they could swoop in and buy The Mayfield Group before his father knew what was happening.

With a deep sigh, he stood and smoothed his tie. He strode across the floor and opened the door, stepping out into the outer office to greet his mother.

“Mother,” he said. “What an unexpected surprise.”

She stood and gave him a tight smile. “Surprises are by nature, unexpected,” she said as she proffered her cheek for the obligatory kiss.

He complied and then ushered her into his office. “Can I get you anything?” he asked before closing the door.

“No thank you,” she said and he dropped his head for a minute before following her into the office and closing the door.

His mother took a seat on the couches that he had set up in the corner and he took one across from her. She looked around and he realised this was the first time she had ever been here. It was not her way to come to him; he was always expected to go to her so this was even more surprising.

“What can I do for you, Mother?” he asked.

“There is a fundraiser next Friday night,” she said, flicking at a piece of imaginary lint on her skirt. “I want you to attend on behalf of the family.”

His mind automatically went to Brandi and whether she would be up to attend a fundraiser. She had been doing well this week, but he didn’t know if she was quite ready to go to something like that.

“I can’t,” he said.

“Can’t or won’t?” She lifted an eyebrow at him meaningfully.

“Won’t,” he replied. “Brandi is still too fragile and I won’t go without her.”

“The fundraiser is for the Leukaemia Foundation. We thought that in honour of the little girl that Brandi lost, it would be a nice gesture for us to make a significant donation in her name. Caitlyn, wasn’t it?”

Declan gritted his teeth and all his senses went on high alert. In his mind, the prawn shaped head of Admiral Ackbar was yelling at him, “It’s a trap!” Calmly he tried to show no fear as he looked his mother in the eye.

“That’s a very nice gesture,” he said, “but Brandi is not up to attending. I’m sure you understand.”

“I do,” his mother replied, “but that’s no reason for you not to go.”

“That’s every reason for me not to go,” he replied, exasperated. “We are together; a couple. That is the sort of thing that couples do.”

“So you would deny the foundation the very generous cheque we intend to give them because your girlfriend is too fragile to attend?”

“Why is giving the cheque to the foundation dependent on me attending the fundraiser? Surely you could hand it over yourself?”

“I have another function I need to be at. Besides, it makes sense for you to give it to them. You knew the girl after all.”

Declan knew there was an ulterior motive hidden somewhere behind his mother’s altruistic offer but for the life of him he couldn’t figure it out.

“I know your father spoke to you the other day,” she said, smoothing the cuff of her silk blouse and not looking at him.

“He did,” Declan ground out.

“You know we only want the best for you—”

Declan’s patience snapped. “Just spit it out,” he growled, “I don’t have time for your games and manipulations.”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. “Fine. If you do this one thing for me I will hold off on activating the clause for a while longer.”

“How much longer?”

“Six months,” she replied.

“So all I have to do is attend the fundraiser and hand over the very generous cheque in Caitlyn’s name and you will leave my company and Brandi alone for six months?”

She smiled benignly at him, but he wasn’t fooled. There was something else going on, he just didn’t know what. But six months without having the sword of Damocles hanging over his head wasn’t something to walk away from lightly. With six months under his belt he could facilitate the transfer of The Mayfield Group to Alpha Pi Tau, the shell company that Brooks had created. They wouldn’t need to rush to have everything in place before his father pulled the plug. He wouldn’t need to rush Brandi either. She could heal and he could be there beside her.

“Fine,” he said with a rough exhale. “I’ll attend the fundraiser and hand over your cheque and then you will keep your meddling fingers out of my affairs.”

He was actually quite proud of himself for not immediately bowing to her demands. He’d shown a bit of backbone and it felt good not to just let her steamroll him for a change.

“Excellent,” she said, rising and straightening her skirt. “You can pick Annalise up at seven-thirty.”

He jumped to his feet. “Excuse me?”

She turned and smiled at him and he his gut swooped. He felt the jaws of her trap closing around him.

“Will you walk into my parlour?” said the Spider to the Fly.

“Annalise will be accompanying you to the fundraiser.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” he replied hotly.

“You said that Brandi won’t be up to attending and I can’t have you go alone. Annalise is a lovely young lady and more than willing to step in as Brandi’s replacement.”

There it was. This was the whole reason for her little charade. She was hoping that if she dangled a little bauble in front of him that he would jump at the chance. But she was wrong. It didn’t matter who Annalise was or what she looked like or how lovely she might be, he didn’t want anyone else. He wanted Brandi and there would be no temptation to stray no matter who his mother flung in his path.

“Fine,” he replied with a smile as he ushered her out of his office.

He had changed but his mother hadn’t realised it yet. She thought Brandi was his little rebellion but she had miscalculated. It didn’t matter if he let Annalise accompany him because nothing would come of it. Her little grenade rolled uselessly along the floor, a dud.

The smart thing to do would be to tell Brandi about the deal he’d made with his mother. The smart thing to do would be to tell her the whole story about the clause and his mother’s interference and his father’s desire to get his hands on The Mayfield Group. That would have been the smart thing to do, but no one had ever accused Declan of being smart.

He wasn’t trying to be wilfully deceitful, he just didn’t want to upset Brandi. He didn’t want to add to the heaviness she already carried and if things went right, he wouldn’t ever have to tell her the truth. He never wanted her to know that his parents had held his company hostage over his relationship with her. All being well, he would have six months to get his affairs in order, transfer the company to Alpha Pi Tau and be free and clear. All that and she would never have to know how awful his parents were. He just had to get through the next week without her finding out about the fundraiser.

The problem was, Declan wasn’t a very good liar. He never had been. He wasn’t someone who delighted in creative ways to bend the truth. People could always tell when he wasn’t being honest and it was one of the reasons he never played poker - he didn’t have a poker face worth a damn.

So in order to get through the week without having to lie directly to Brandi’s face, he avoided her. He stayed later at the office, although he actually did have work to do so it wasn’t entirely an avoidance technique on his part. He didn’t give her the silent treatment, as that would be a sure way to tip her off that something was up. He kept up the steady stream of texts and emails, checking on her throughout the day and night. He didn’t avoid her completely; he did spend a few nights with her but he made sure it was late enough that she was already sacked out by the time he arrived and then he left early enough to avoid any meaningful conversations.

Declan told himself he was doing the right thing. This was for them. He was doing it all so that they could have a decent shot at a real relationship. After Friday night, he could go back to being the attentive boyfriend that had taken care of her after the funeral.

Boyfriend. Huh. They hadn’t had that conversation yet. He had fully meant to tell her that he wanted to do the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing for real but then she got sick and Caitlyn died and it never seemed like the right time. After Friday night. After the fundraiser, he would take her out to dinner in a nice restaurant and he would lay it all on the table… well, not the bit about the clause and the possibility of losing his company, but all the rest. He would finally tell her how he really felt about her and that he wanted to be with her for real.

Already it was hard to hold back the words when they were together. Those three little words that he had told himself he would never be able to say, let alone feel. As she lay snuggled in his arms at night and he stared down at her face, calm and serene in sleep, the words bubbled in his throat and he wanted to whisper them in her ear. But he was determined that the first time he told her he loved her would be with as much romance and shit as he could manage. It would be a momentous occasion for him and he wanted to be sure to mark it with an equally significant moment for her.

So Friday. He’d already told her he would have to work late. He had his tux brought to the office so he could leave straight from work and he planned to stay only long enough to hand over the cheque, smile at the cameras and shake the hands of the members of the foundation and then he was out of there. He would head straight to Brandi’s place and spend the night making it up to her, assuaging his guilty conscience by lavishing his attention on her.

It wasn’t much of a plan but it was all he had.