The Obsidian Collection Page 34

  “I’m guessing that the fairer sex plays a significant role in these trust issues?” she interrupted him.

  He smiled slightly. “Yes, you could say that, and in more ways than one.”

  “We’ve all been hurt by the opposite sex at one time in our lives, Brandt. The trick is not to let it cloud our future. We can’t change the past, but the future is a blank easel. We can paint it anyway that we want to. Sure there will be other mistakes, but we learn from them and move on. We can’t let past mistakes cripple us emotionally. Life is so cold without people around us.”

  “Spoken like someone who has breezed through life without any bumps in the road. Without having their world totally turned upside down that they had now idea which way was up or which way was down.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice.

  “There you go again—making assumptions again. I’ve had more than my fair share of bumps in the road.”

  Brandt needed to move; he couldn’t sit there any longer. He got up and walked over to the table where a bottle of wine and two glasses were sitting. He picked up the bottle.

  “Would you like a drink?”

  “Sure. Do you have something to eat too? I’m famished.”

  He poured Erika a glass and handed it to her, letting his fingers linger against hers momentarily.

  “I think I might be able to rustle up something. Come join me in the kitchen and we’ll talk while I cook.”

  “Is it safe?”

  “Is what safe?” He had a feeling she didn’t believe he could cook.

  “You cooking? Or is it just a ploy to get me into the kitchen so that when you stumble around hopelessly, I’ll take over cooking the food.”

  He laughed, easing the tension that had built in his shoulders. “I’ll have you know, I know my way around a kitchen. In fact, I’ve worked in a hotel kitchen, and as far as I know, no one died from my cooking.”

  He turned and headed towards the kitchen, sure she would follow him. He had a feeling things were about to get very uncomfortable.

  Erika filed that piece of information away for later reference. Brandt had just given a little bit of himself away.

  She followed in Brandt’s wake, admiring the ass she’d finally been able to touch. She sipped her wine. It was a full-bodied red and she was glad that she would be getting some food into her.

  She hadn’t been into the kitchen earlier on in the day. In fact, she had only seen two rooms in the house – the bathroom and the living room.

  She perched herself on the bar stool and leaned on the bench, watching as Brandt moved confidently around the room. He pulled pots out of cupboards and when he opened the refrigerator, she could see it was well stocked.

  “I don’t think I asked this earlier as I was kind of preoccupied. Is this your place? I expect an honest answer not a question.”

  He started to chop tomatoes with the precision of an executive chef. “Yes, this is my place. I own most of the land on the island.”

  “So is this where you mainly live or do you live in the penthouse where we first had dinner?”

  He’d moved onto slicing some mushrooms. “I haven’t lived here in a few months. I’ve found it’s easier to be onsite at the resort to handle any issues that may arise. Although I’m considering changing that. I need a definite line drawn between work and relaxation.”

  Something didn’t quite add up with what he said and what she’d spied in the fridge. “But you obviously had planned to come here for a while.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  She slid off the stool and walked over to the fridge. She opened the door and stood to one side, pointing to the contents.

  “That’s a fair indication you’d planned to stay here longer than today.”

  He grinned as he added all the ingredients he had chopped in a pan, which had been warming up on the hotplates.

  “Are you sure you aren’t a police detective?”

  “No.” She crossed her arms waiting for him to elaborate.

  “Fine, I arranged with my staff to air out the house and stock the house after you left the penthouse last night.”

  “You were pretty sure of yourself, huh?” she asked not entirely surprised by his actions. Even though they’d gone backwards and forwards with each, she could tell once Brandt had an idea he would make sure all his plans fell into place.

  “You could say that, but I really wasn’t planning on taking no for answer. Last night ended before I really wanted it to.”

  “You ended it, Brandt. I didn’t. You were the one to push me away.” She couldn’t stop the hurt from sounding in her voice. His rejection had stung at the time.

  He continued adding various herbs and spices to the pan and the aroma made her stomach grumble loudly.

  “I know I did, Erika, and I’m sorry. The last day and half since we met in the lobby have been a comedy of errors. Wouldn’t you say? We’ve started, stopped and started again.”

  “And stopped and started again,” she laughed softly. “Yes, it has been a bit of a rollercoaster ride.”

  He checked on the pasta that was happily boiling in a pot. “Perhaps we should have done this before jumping into bed together.”

  She grinned mischievously at him. “What have dinner? I thought we did that last night.”

  He tapped her nose with his finger. “No, I mean really talk.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I think you’ll find that I have been trying to talk but,” she pointed her finger at him, “you have been avoiding that particular past time.”

  At least he had the decency to look sheepish. He held his arms up in mock surrender. “Okay, yes, you’re right.” He was quiet for a moment. “Most of the women I’ve been dating recently haven’t been interested in talking.”

  “Ahh, so they’ve been women who are dazzled by money? Women who are just looking for a good time? Women you didn’t really have to try hard to get to know properly?”

  He stopped shaking the pasta of excess water. She knew she’d hit a nerve.

  “It’s okay, Brandt, really. I’m not going to hold it against you. I’m curious though; why did you come after me? After all, we only met yesterday. You could have treated today as just a little time out from the real world.”

  He placed a bowl of food in front of her. “You don’t mince words, do you?”

  “No, I don’t, and I told you that at the beach. You just chose to insult me instead of believing me.”

  He picked up his bowl and headed back toward the living room. Erika picked up her glass and bowl and followed him. She had no choice really; if she wanted the conversation to continue, she would have to be in the same room as him.

  She sat and had a couple of mouthfuls of the aromatic pasta.

  “This is good. Where did you learn to cook like this?” She suspected his answer, but she didn’t want to make assumptions.

  “I’m a trained chef.”

  She’d been right; although, his persona didn’t suit slaving away in a hot kitchen.

  “I don’t think that being a chef really suited you, did it?”

  His eyes narrowed and she could tell he was surprised at her insight.

  “Well, I enjoyed my training, even though I worked with some bastard chefs. But, yes, you’re right. It wasn’t enough. I wanted more. So I cooked at night and studied during the day. Made a couple of lucky real estate deals and the rest, they say, is history.”

  “That’s a nice media spin on it. But it’s only half the story. You’ve been burned, Brandt. You’ve alluded to it. You even accused me of not knowing what it’s like to lose everything. What happened to you?”

  He ate more of his food, clearly deciding how much he was going to reveal to her. If Brandt knew what was good for him and for them, he needed to tell her the whole story. Only then could she really entertain thoughts of something deeper developing between them.

  He put his bowl down and wandered over to rest against the windowsill.

  His face lost
all emotion as he started to talk. “I’d just closed in on the biggest deal in my short business career. I was riding high and I was going to build the best damned resort ever. Then I met Tonia. She dazzled me with her beauty and the fact her father could provide me with some extra funding if I needed it; seemed like we were destined to be together.” He reached for his glass and downed the rest of the contents. ‘”To cut an incredibly long story short—”

  She interrupted him. “Don’t cop out on me, Brandt. Tell me the gory details and I’ll tell you mine.”

  He turned to look at her and she could see the puzzlement in his eyes.

  “That’s right, Brandt. I’ve been fooled as well. You aren’t the only one.”

  “Fine.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Shit, I hate having this conversation. I hate admitting I was taken in by a pretty face. I hate that I let control be taken from me.”

  He walked over to the bar and grabbed a glass tumbler. Reaching for a bottle of brandy, he poured some in. “Tonia convinced me to let her father do all the dealing with the financiers, and told me to concentrate on the design portion of the deal.”

  Erika predicted what he would say next wasn’t going to be all hearts and flowers.

  He laughed harshly. “I was so stupid. So naïve and they knew it. In the end, they fleeced everything but the shirt off my back?”

  “How did you find out about it?”

  “I was lucky my accountant noticed things weren’t adding up. He used an in-house forensic accountant to go over all the books. The forensic accountant found so many anomalies he suggested we get the authorities involved. It came to light it wasn’t the first time they’d run a scam; they were wanted for many counts of fraud.”

  “I’m surprised they didn’t realise you were investigating things?”

  “Oh, we worked in conjunction with the IRS and fed them information while seeming to agree with everything they suggested.”

  Suddenly, everything he said triggered a memory. He must have seen the realisation on her face.

  “I see you heard about it too. You’d have to have been living under a rock not to know about the sorry mess.”

  “I recall reading about it, but I don’t remember your name. I mean Brandt is a name that isn’t easily forgotten.”

  “I wanted to begin again, so I started to use my middle name.” He indicated around the room with his hand. “This was what my vision was. But instead of one, I wanted to have twenty of them all over the island, as well as the major resort.”

  “I’m guessing that after this one was completed, the shit hit the fan?”

  “Yeah, so I had to downsize my vision. To hang on to this island, I had to liquidate all my other holdings so the financiers would still have faith in me.”

  “But obviously the resort is a success. I mean, all this happened a few years ago, right?”

  “True. Despite my name being dragged through the mud, I was still able to attract people here. Maybe it was out of morbid curiosity that they flocked here in droves. But I’d ensured I’d employed the top staff of their field and so word got out that this was a place to be seen and holiday at.”

  “So negative press turned out to be positive for you?”

  He took a sip of the brandy that he had been warming in his hands. “I guess you could say that.”

  “So now that you’ve been successful and have built the resort’s reputation so people far and wide visit, are you planning on building more of these cabins?”

  He wandered back to the couch and sat down next to her, resting an arm across the back, lightly brushing his fingers on her shoulder.

  His gaze wandered around the room. “I’m not sure. Last week I would’ve said definitely. Now,” he paused and returned his gaze to her. “I think my goals are changing.”

  Erika tried not to read too much into his words. “Well, you can always buy land somewhere else exotic and fulfil your vision.”

  “You know I don’t think I need to do it anymore. I’ve come to realise I’m happy with what I’ve got. I don’t have so much to lose now, and well, to be truthful, I can come and go as I please and work as hard as I want. I’m pretty much set for life now.” He leaned forward and placed his empty glass on the coffee table. “I have thought about doing some more development.”

  “Really, that’s great. What did you plan on doing?”

  “It’s something I toyed with when I came up with the plans for the separate cabins. Something that was not associated with what we were doing, but something I had the desire to do. However, my former partners didn’t think it was a good idea. Now perhaps, it’s time to do it.”

  He was being very mysterious again. “What were your plans?”

  “I want to help the families of burns victims? Some friend’s son was badly burned in a house fire. They spent months at the hospital needing to be close by. I don’t know how many times the doctors told them to say their goodbyes. But their son is a fighter and surprised not only them but his doctors as well. Anyway they had to set up a roster to ensure that someone was with him the whole time.”

  “They couldn’t stay at the hospital with him?”

  “No. There was no place for them.”

  “What, not even in his room?”

  “They have to keep the room as sterile as possible, so each time they went in, they had to wear the sterile clothing, and contact had to be minimal. It’s amazing they are still together; the stress they were under was unbelievable.”

  “That’s so sad. Imagine not being able to touch your own child. But, not to be rude, what can you do to help them? Build a new burns unit at a hospital?”

  He chuckled at her tone. “I think that would be a tad ambitious, not to mention costly and having to deal with the government. No, I’d like to give them a place to stay close by to the hospital. A place where they can sleep in a bed instead of a plastic chair in a hallway. A place where someone can provide them with a cooked meal instead of dried sandwiches from a hospital cafeteria. A place where they can see their other children in a home environment and not in hospital gardens. A place where they can cry if they need to and not feel ashamed about it.’

  His impassioned speech took her by surprise. It was clear to Erika he was very close to his friends and their son. His depth of compassion moved her and she laid a hand on his thigh.

  “That sounds like a wonderful project. Have you got a location worked out?”

  “No, there are lots of things that need to be taken into consideration, like the cost of running the house. Working out if it would be run by volunteers or people employed to run it.”

  “Well, when you do get it sorted out, I’d love to help you in any way that I can. I have a boutique and my mom is the queen of hosting fundraiser events and is always on the lookout for new ventures to raise funds for. Between us we could come up with a unique fundraising event to help you get started.”

  “Thanks, I’ll let you know if I need anything from you. So now that I’ve laid myself bare, I think it’s time you told me all about your skeletons in the closet.”

  She squirmed a little on the couch. It was all well and good getting Brandt to come clean, but when it came to her airing Erika’s dirty laundry, she wasn’t so sure she was up to it. All her bravado from earlier disappeared.

  He smoothed a hand over her hair, letting his fingers lightly caress her neck; her skin zinged back to life at his touch.

  “It’s not so easy when the shoe’s on the other foot. As you said to me, I won’t judge you or laugh. It would be hypocritical of me if I did that.”

  She took a sip of her wine, grimacing at how warm it had become. “Well, it’s the usual story really. Girl bedazzled by a guy’s looks and believes every word he utters from his mouth. Only to find out nothing is what it seems. That it’s all just one big lie.”

  “So he was married with five kids, away from home a lot and his wife didn’t understand him?”

  She couldn’t help it; she laughed. “No, n
ot quite, but very close. I can’t believe I was so gullible as to fall for his smooth words.”

  He grabbed her hand and placed a soft kiss on her palm. “Sweetheart, you aren’t the only one. Remember, I got fooled by a smooth talker too. So what happened?”

  She turned her hand over so that their fingers linked together. Looking down at their joined hands, a sense of completeness came over her. It was so right to be sharing this with Brandt.

  “I met Rod at an opening of some art gallery. I don’t even remember what was being showed. That’s how much he sucked me in from the first meeting. We ended up going for coffee and spending the whole night talking. I thought he was the one.” She toyed with a lock of hair, embarrassment seeping its way through her.

  “You don’t have to tell me anymore if you don’t want to. I know how hard this is.”

  She was touched by his sensitivity but she’d hounded him to tell her his story; there was no way she couldn’t continue.

  “No, it’s fine. I’m okay. Anyway, he moved in with me and soon everything was in joint names. Fortunately, I’d kept my business bank account and another personal bank accounts separate. He had no idea I owned the business where I worked. He thought I was a lowly shop assistant. He also thought the house we lived in was a rental not my own.”

  She went to take a sip of her wine but remembered it was warm and left it. “To be honest, I don’t know why I kept those details from him. But it was just as well I did, because when we did break up, he took all the money out of the joint account and half the furniture, claiming it was his right. Of course that was because he’d gotten his other girlfriend knocked up and needed money to get an apartment and furniture to make it habitable. I didn’t fight about the furniture I could replace it, but I was pissed off about the money; it was mainly my money in that account. I was gutted about being lied to; it really messes up your ability to trust anyone else.”

  She untangled her hand from his, drew her knees up and hugged them to her chest. “We were supposed to come here together. It was all booked and paid for by me. I saw no point in not coming.” She turned and looked at him. “No one knows about what he did, just that we broke up because I caught him cheating.”