How to Resist Prince Charming(60)

“Actually,” Tom said, grinding his molars, “he’s eased up on us in the last couple of weeks. I think it’s that new girlfriend he has.”

From the corner of his eye, Tom saw Lenna’s head lift.

Well, well. That got her attention.

“Braxton has a girlfriend?” Maxine asked with an arch of her eyebrows. “How do you know?”

“Oh, Ben found out about it. He’s good at discovering that kind of information.” When no one—namely Lenna—reacted, he continued. “I guess when he went to Paris a couple weeks ago, he took her along. When he got back, he went over his expense receipts with his secretary and paid out-of-pocket for a second breakfast in his room.”

Dying to know how his daughter was reacting to that, Tom nonchalantly peeked over. She’d stopped eating with such gusto, and her face had paled. He almost snickered.

“Oh, my,” Maxine said, blushing and covering her mouth with her hand. “That sounds serious.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Tom murmured.

He wanted to reach over and strangle Lenna. She wasn’t going to confess. The little brat wasn’t going to say a word. His jaw bunched and his pulse spiked; Tom forced a smile toward his wife.

“It’s hard to tell which one of them he actually took. He parades any number of women through his office. Though it might’ve been the one he sent two dozen roses to the other day.”

“Roses are nice.” Maxine nodded in approval.

Beside Tom, Lenna sucked in a breath, then snatched up her cup and took a long drink.

Tom narrowed his eyes and kept lying. “He’s brought that one around the office a few times. I think he likes to show her off.”

Lenna choked on the iced tea she was gulping.

“Why?” Aaron wanted to know. “Is she hot?”

Tom could’ve hugged his son. “Oh, sure,” he said readily. “She’s a pretty little thing. Short and petite with long, dark hair. Of course, the redhead he had before her, last week, was better looking, in my opinion. That one had really big...” He started to cup his chest before he remembered his wife and youngest daughter were also present.

“Tom!” Maxine scolded, glaring accusingly. “It’s a woman’s character that’s important. Don’t you dare go teaching our son the size of one’s...anatomy has anything to do with it.”

“Sorry,” Tom mumbled. “But it’s not my fault the boy goes through more exotic women than some people go through toilet paper.”

He looked fully at Lenna then.

Head bowed, she pushed her mashed potatoes across her plate with her fork, but didn’t eat. Her face had drained completely of color, the skin over her cheeks strained taut and tense. He almost looked devastated.

Good. It served her right for betraying her own father.





CHAPTER 21




Lenna wasn’t sure what she wanted to do first, curl into a ball and cry, or confront Braxton and kick the piss out of him.

He’d lied to her. She’d suspected another woman in Paris, but she’d been stupid in love and had talked herself out of the notion.

It was true, though. She couldn’t reject the facts now. He’d been seeing other people all along.

And here, she’d been ready to tell her father the entire truth tonight.

The betrayal that tore through her made her hands shake and her breathing escalate. Braxton had cheated on her...and not just with one girl.

He’d been with a lot, from the sound of it. Nothing she’d ever shared with him meant anything.

All the times they’d been together, all the nights they’d curled in bed and held each other ‘til dawn, talking for hours upon hours...it was meaningless. That’s what hurt the most.

As she approached his brownstone, her heart thumped against her ribcage. A black mustang sat parked in front of his place.

Oh, God, there was someone with him right now. She’d just caught him in the act.

Lenna’s fingers turned to ice. She was tempted to keep driving. But, no. She had to do this. She had to see his deceit with her own eyes.

She parked at the curb across the street and stayed in her car for a second to steady her breathing. Didn’t help. In fact, the more she thought about him in there with a busty little brunette, the more distressed she became.

Tears threatened; she decided she’d better act now before they started. Straightening her spine, she squared her shoulders and pushed out of the car.

As soon as she reached his door, she’d already fisted and lifted her trembling hand, ready to pound.

It took him almost a minute to answer.

Wondering if he was taking so long because he had to put his clothes on, she pressed her palm to her quaking stomach.

The door opened; her eyes flashed over his attire, but nothing appeared to have been thrown on in haste. He was in nice jeans, a long sleeve shirt, and even wore shoes. To Lenna, he looked magnificent.

That hurt too, that he could look so lovable and handsome while he so ruthlessly stabbed her in the back.

“Lenna?” He jerked back in surprise and then smiled, stepping toward her. The jerk actually smiled at her. “What’re you doing here? It’s Sunday. Didn’t you go to your family night thing?”

Lenna evaded him before he could touch her.