All-American Princess - Maggie Dallen Page 0,37

diligence these past two weeks. Tess had torn apart his financial records with help from Daddy’s mysterious sources while I’d done some digging of my own into his father’s life in L.A.

Jack’s voice had haunted me for weeks. Do you have any idea what your father did to him? To his family?

I hadn’t. I mean, not really. All I’d known was that there had been tension between my father and Brandon’s, but I’d been too young to know anything else. Luckily, I had friends in high places. Friends who knew all the gossip and who lived to tell.

Okay, not friends, necessarily.

I had my mother.

I’d called in a favor one night, plying her over the phone, letting her talk on and on about her new boyfriend, all about the guest house they were building. I even let her tell me how much she missed me without laughing.

Basically, I played the role of dutiful daughter, and quite frankly, I deserved an Academy Award. But it had been worth it. I’d waited until she’d finished her second glass of wine before asking for the sordid details.

She’d still been married to my father at the time of the show and of Frank MacMillan’s death.

If anyone knew what Daddy had done, it would be her.

She knew. Oh, did she know.

“I know why you don’t want to go to Hollywood,” I said. “I know why you don’t want anything to do with my father, and I can’t blame you.”

He stared at me, his eyes narrowing. “What do you think you know?”

I looked around, but no one was listening to us. Amber was casting worried looks, but she was too far away to hear.

I thought of my options. I could mention the fact that his mother had gambled their money away, but something told me if money hadn’t worked the first time, it wouldn’t work now.

No, he needed the money, but something was holding him back.

Someone.

I could practically hear Daddy’s voice ringing in my ears. I had to take her out of the equation. I took Brandon’s hand in mine, and he didn’t try to pull away. “Maybe we should talk somewhere else.”

A flicker of fear crossed his eyes, but he nodded, and we headed out into the relatively quiet hallway. Amber and her friends watched us go, and I caught his football buddies at another table watching us too, but I didn’t pay them any attention.

My gut churned with what I had to do.

I couldn’t quite meet his eyes at first when he turned to face me in the hallway. “What do you think you know?”

His voice was quiet. Firm. For a moment, when I looked up at him, I had a vivid memory of staring up at his father just like this. He’d had Brandon’s same calm quiet confidence. This gentleness that tempered the rugged male quality and made him something special. Something extraordinary. This guy right here would be just as beloved as his father.

He’ll also be eaten alive like his father.

That was Jack’s snarky voice in my head, the argumentative voice of reason that I’d heard every day lately, at every turn.

I ignored it.

Placing a hand on Brandon’s arm, I gave him my best sympathetic look. “I get it, Brandon. I’d have a hard time going back to L.A. too, if my family’s history there was so… complicated.”

His eyes narrowed. He was hooked.

I swallowed down the guilt. It had to be done. Besides, secrets were the real devil here, not me. “I know about your mother,” I said.

He stiffened, and I almost lost my nerve.

“I know about your mom and… and my dad.”

Surprise had his nostrils flaring, but his jaw clenched shut.

He hadn’t known.

I hadn’t really expected him to know, but that didn’t make the flood of guilt any easier to swallow. Like I’d thought, this was family dirt that he didn’t know, and I’d bet money it was why his mother didn’t want him leaving.

If he left, his eyes might be opened to the fact that his sweet, precious mother wasn’t as perfect as she’d liked him to believe.

I squeezed his arm and met his gaze straight on. He had to believe me—he had to believe me over his own mother. “I wish I could tell you that this wasn’t a common thing,” I said. “But unfortunately, my dad has a reputation, and it’s deserved.”

He stiffened under my touch, but he didn’t pull away. He was listening. This sweet, manly giant was paying attention to every word.

“I can only imagine how this