Blame It on the Bikini - By Natalie Anderson Page 0,52

voice carried—his concern was obvious. She waited a very long time for him to return to bed. But even though he’d stopped talking quite some time ago now, he still didn’t come down the hall. So she got up again—concerned.

From in his office doorway, she saw him sitting at his desk, his face a portrait of worry. She’d noticed before how tired he sometimes looked when he thought no one was watching. The animated, charming façade slipped on when people talked to him. She didn’t want him to feel as if he had to put that mask on for her. She understood now that he covered up with the charm factor. Why did he feel the need to maintain the image? When he claimed to hate that manufactured perfection in his parents’ home? In a way he was as guilty of it as they were.

But then he closed his eyes and put his head in his hands.

‘Brad?’ She swiftly walked into the room, round the side of his desk and put her arms around him. It was an instinctive, caring gesture. Nothing sexual, just the comfort of a hug. ‘What’s wrong?’

For a long time he said nothing. But then there was a sigh and a mumble. ‘Christmas is bad for most of my kids.’

My kids. The word meant much. She softened inside. He cared deeply, but he didn’t like to display it for everyone. ‘Something’s happened?’

‘Gage has run away.’

Mya bit her lip. Two days out from Christmas? Things must be bad. ‘Who’s Gage?’

‘A client. His parents split a while back. He’s been shuttling between them for a few years, but it’s never been easy. His father had a new partner on the scene but they’ve split up recently.’ He sighed. ‘What’s worse, do you think? Being fought over, or not being noticed or wanted at all?’ He glanced at her. ‘Or being expected to carry the expectations and dreams and ambitions of generations?’

She shook her head. ‘It depends.’

‘It does,’ he said tiredly. ‘I should have spotted there was something badly wrong,’ he added quietly. ‘I should have seen it. I knew he’d been truanting. I knew he hadn’t been talking to the psych. But I—’

‘You’re not his parent.’

‘I’m his advocate. I should know what it is he wants.’

‘And do you?’

He stared sightlessly at the desk. ‘I’m not sure. He’s on the run but if I were to guess I’d say he’ll head to his dad’s ex. She’s been the one there. But she lives in another town now. She wasn’t married to the guy. She’s not a guardian. In theory she has no legal claim to Gage.’

‘But if he wants to stay with her, if she wants him—can you help them?’

‘Maybe. That’s if he is heading there, if he is okay.’ He looked worried. ‘Not all stepmothers are wicked.’

And not all playboys were heartless.

‘It’s really sad,’ she said.

He nodded. ‘And if he doesn’t turn up soon, he’s only going to make it harder for himself to get what he wants.’

‘I’m sorry, Brad.’

He rubbed his forehead, as if he could rub away the stress. ‘You should go get some sleep.’

‘Not without you.’ There was one thing she could give him—the one thing he’d wanted from her. It wasn’t much, but it was all she had, and she wanted to give him comfort now. She didn’t know how she was going to do it, but after Christmas she was walking away from him. She’d been such a fool to think she could handle this. ‘You do an incredible job,’ she whispered. He was an incredible person.

‘Not good enough,’ he muttered. ‘Not this time. I should have spotted it, Mya. Hell, I hope he’s okay.’

‘He will be.’ She hugged him tighter. ‘Don’t feel bad,’ she urged. ‘You help so many people. You’ll help him too.’

Worry burdened Brad—burned inside him. Because he feared Mya was wrong—on several levels. ‘I do this job to make myself feel good. To pretend to myself that I have helped out in some way,’ he confessed. ‘But do I really?’ He shrugged. ‘Who knows?’

‘Of course you do,’ she said vehemently. ‘You’re hugely talented and you give that talent to the most vulnerable. You’re generous.’

‘Mya,’ he muttered, trying to claw back some cool. To joke his way out of this intensity the way he always did. ‘I thought I only did counsel for child to score chicks?’

‘I don’t think you’re as selfish as you like to make out that you are.’

Oh, but she was wrong. He knew he was selfish.