Learning Curves - By Elyse Mady Page 0,53

fiancé and succeeded. But the eyeliner and mascara couldn’t mask the predatory light in her eyes. He’d seen her type too many times.

Gillian quickly went on the offensive, smiling in a too-bright manner. “Leanne, what a dark horse you are. You didn’t mention you were bringing anyone to tonight’s dinner.” She turned to Sandra and smiled at her godmother. “Lee was so down Saturday night, Aunt Sandy, whenever she talked about the wedding. But I’m glad you found someone who didn’t mind coming out with you tonight. That’s so nice of your friend.”

Brandon’s hackles rose at Gillian’s sarcasm, her pointed emphasis making it clear she’d judged him nothing more than a pity date. He waited to see just how Leanne’s mother would react to the slight against her daughter. To his surprise, she seemed oblivious to the insult, launching in to one of her own.

“Well, it was good of you to invite Leanne, sweetie. She doesn’t get out much.” Sandra frowned as she weighed her daughter’s classically styled dress against Gillian’s over-the-top ensemble.

Brandon was startled. He’d always assumed that his dysfunctional family was fundamentally different from the loving, unbroken ones he’d looked at so wistfully as a child. The obvious love and affection he’d seen between father and daughter beguiled him into thinking Leanne’s family life had been idyllic and without turmoil.

It wasn’t his place to jump in and defend Leanne. It would be presumptuous of him and, knowing her fierce sense of independence, unwelcome. But he could barely believe his ears, listening to the two women speak about Leanne as if she wasn’t even there. Anger on her behalf choked him; he glanced to see how she was handling this provocation.

He grew angrier still. She seemed to have shrunk into herself. Her shoulders were tight and clenched, the humor usually so evident in her face absent. She looked less insulted than resigned, and that fired his indignation more than anything else.

Could her own mother be so oblivious that she couldn’t discern what an amazing woman Leanne was? How vibrant and how effortlessly classy? Was she blind or just jealous? He wanted to growl “Open your goddamn eyes, take another look,” but even as the impulse flashed across his mind, he knew he didn’t have the right. Whatever there was between Leanne and himself—a friendship, a transient sexual charge or…something else entirely—it was only a temporary arrangement. He strongly suspected that she would take a very dim view of his chivalry.

Screw it.

He didn’t care if he stepped over the line. Leanne deserved better than to listen to these two lambast her style, her personality and her inability to attract a boyfriend.

“It’s kind of you to be concerned, Gillian,” he interjected, lifting Leanne’s hand, her fingers still entwined with his, into view. “But actually, Leanne and I have been seeing each other for a while. She didn’t bring it up Saturday night because she wanted the focus to be on you. After all, you’re only a bride once,” he said, pausing before adding, “usually.” He grinned to show he was joking and Jeremy, reaching out to squeeze his intended affectionately, laughed loudly.

His barb may have escaped the groom’s notice but Gillian’s eyes burned with anger at his clever slur. He saw Leanne’s lips twitch, and he felt a surprising sense of satisfaction.

Jeremy leaned forward, his manner open and friendly. “Well, that’s super. Leanne’s a great girl. How’d you meet?” He placed a loving kiss against his fiancée’s temple. She inclined her head, acknowledging the gesture, but her cold eyes never left Brandon’s face.

“Grad school, actually. We’re both students at Wellington.”

Sandra looked surprised and Leanne laughed, the husky sound sending a shiver of attraction down his spine that he did his best to ignore. Now was not the time to get sidetracked by his overactive libido. But just standing next to Leanne, her distinctive floral scent teasing his senses, made focusing on the chitchat difficult.

“I did my undergraduate work at Wellington but I got my MBA at Yale.”

“I guess we’re all Wellies, then. What a coincidence,” Gillian said, using the nickname for Wellington alumni. “Of course, I graduated a number of years after Jeremy but I still I keep in touch with so many friends from those days. After all, in my field, personal connections are so important. I’m determined to crack the top twenty-five in regional sales next year.”

“I’m sure you’ll make the top ten, sweetie,” said Sandra supportively. Leanne rolled her eyes discreetly, her mother’s preference clearly coming as no