Any Way You Want It (Brand Clan #2)(85)

Zandra smiled. “You’ve been with me from the beginning, and you love this agency as much as I do. Who else would I leave in charge?”

“Not Morgan, thank God.” Christine gave a mock shudder. “Love her, but she’s bossy as hell.”

Zandra laughed.

After the press conference, Morgan had resigned from her job to officially become Zandra’s publicist. She’d be earning more than she had ever imagined, which would enable her to save money toward opening her public relations business.

“Well, I’d better get back to the phone,” Christine said, rising from the chair. “We’ve been getting nonstop calls, and not just from reporters. The girls are in demand even more than ever. We’d better hire Lena’s replacement soon.”

“I know,” Zandra agreed with a sigh. “I’m working on it.”

After Christine left, Zandra returned her attention to her unfinished email.

It was the most difficult message she’d ever had to compose, because she knew how much pain she would cause by sending it.

But she had to. Or at least that’s what she’d been telling herself.

Zandra hesitated another moment, then resumed typing.

Ten minutes later, eyes brimming with tears, she stopped and read over what she’d written.





Rem,





I wanted you to know that I’ve rented a beach house on St. Lucia, where I’ll be spending the rest of the summer. By the time you receive this message, I’ll already be gone. I planned it that way. Only a few people know where I’m going, and I considered swearing them to secrecy so you wouldn’t follow me. But I knew that was pointless because you’d crack them too easily.

My mother used to say that she and I were nothing alike, and that was a source of great relief to her. But maybe she was wrong. Maybe we’re more alike than she ever thought. Maybe I’m a coward for sending you this letter after I’ve already skipped town. But I didn’t want to see you, Remy. I didn’t want you to try to talk me out of leaving. And I was afraid that if we talked, I might have said things I’d later regret.

Let me savor that last image of you, standing and applauding at the end of the press conference.

Please don’t come to me. So much has happened. I need time and distance to process everything. I think you understand that better than anyone.

I love you, Remy. No matter what happens between us, my love for you will never change.





Be well,





Z





Zandra stared at the blurred words on the screen, her hand hovering over the mouse.

Am I doing the right thing? she wondered for the umpteenth time. Am I?

After the press conference, she’d seen Remy only briefly because he’d had to catch a flight to Mexico. He’d only be gone a few days, he’d told her, but he wanted them to get together and talk when he got back.

She hadn’t refused. But as she’d watched him leave, she already knew she would be gone when he came home.

Zandra closed her eyes, sighing heavily. Fatigue had settled between her shoulder blades, weighing her down. Spending a month on a tropical island would do her mind and body good. Her heart...well, her broken heart was a different ailment that only time could cure.

After wavering another moment, she scheduled the email to be delivered after she was safely on the plane. Out of reach.

Swallowing a hard lump that had lodged in her throat, she shut down the computer and grabbed her purse and attaché case.

She paused at the door, glancing around the office to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything.

Then she turned off the light and walked out.

*

Remy sat behind his desk, the glow from the computer screen the room’s only illumination.

He’d never felt more acutely alone than he did that night.

Because Zandra was gone.

She’d left him.

Just walked out of his life with no warning.

Upon returning from Monterrey that afternoon, he’d intended to drive over to her apartment and talk to her, make her see that they belonged together and could get past any obstacle.

He’d needed to stop by the office first and take care of a few things. But an hour later, just as he was getting ready to leave, he’d received her email message.

And his world came crashing down.

Remy took a swig of beer, swallowed bitterly as his eyes returned to the glowing computer screen.

He read her letter again, each word carving deeper into his heart.

She’d asked him not to go to her. She might as well have told him to stop breathing. Even her closing salutation wounded him. Be well? How the f*ck did she expect him to do that when she’d just jammed a stake through his heart?

You brought this on yourself, his conscience reminded him. You have no one but yourself to blame.

After settling the score with Kennedy last week, Remy had driven straight to Keegan’s office to get some answers. The commander had been deeply apologetic and incensed, explaining that Norwood had gone behind his back and asked one of his campaign staffers to spy on Zandra. Threatened by Kennedy’s growing popularity and promising poll numbers, Norwood then decided to preemptively leak the story about Zandra.

The mayor’s underhanded tactics, coupled with his obvious lack of trust in Keegan, had prompted the commander to resign in angry disgust. But this news brought Remy no consolation.