I blacked out, but…”
Sissy swore, which was so out of character it almost made Brittany smile.
“Other than your face, do you have other injuries?”
“Some cuts and bruises.”
“So what happened?”
Brittany explained, but without mentioning Rupert’s name—or Collier’s.
“What a horrible experience,” Sissy said in a numb-sounding voice. “It’s a miracle you survived, and it’s another miracle someone came along to pick you up. Even though you won’t tell me who’s responsible, I hope to hell you told the police.”
“No.”
“Dammit, Brittany, why not?”
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
Clearly frustrated, Sissy snapped, “That’s not smart. Hell, I didn’t even know you were seeing someone, much less that he would turn out to be a violent creep.”
“Please, Sissy, don’t ask me anything else. I’ve told you all I’m prepared to.”
“Fine, but if that bastard touches you again, I won’t let you off the hook so easily.”
“You know how I feel about depending on the law,” Brittany said by way of another excuse. “After the way Tommy was railroaded, you, of all people, should understand.”
“I understand, but in this instance, I don’t agree. But you have to do what you have to do.”
“Thanks for your support.” Brittany tried to smile.
“Can I do anything for you?” Sissy asked. “I feel so helpless.”
“Nothing except give me a few more days off.”
“What about your classes?”
“I’ll go to those and work in the diner.”
“Can’t you forget the diner? I’ll advance you—”
“No,” Brittany interrupted. “I’ll be okay.”
Sissy stood, her mouth stretched in a thin line. “When you come to your senses, I’ll be here for you. Meanwhile, take care and heal.” She leaned over and brushed Brittany’s other cheek. “And that’s an order.”
Brittany gave her a watery smile. “Thanks.”
“I’ll see myself out.”
Once Brittany was alone, her head hit the back of the sofa, though it wasn’t all that comfortable. A spring jabbed her in the back of the neck, forcing her to shift positions and making her wince again. Her body was just now beginning to feel the effects of her ordeal. But at least the bruising had paled somewhat, and she no longer scared herself when she looked in the mirror.
Maybe Tommy wouldn’t even notice. Ha. She knew better, but right now, she didn’t have to think about that. Nor did she have to think about Collier Smith. That problem was solved. He was out of her life.
Though she would never forget the hot, physical attraction that had crackled between them, it had been his special way of cutting through her shield and finding her tender spots that made him unforgettable. He was the type of man she had searched for all her adult years and never found. Until now. But she could never have him.
He had gone back to his world and left her in hers.
Eight
“Hey, Dad.”
“Son, you’re just the person I wanted to see.”
Son.
Collier’s heart always beat a little faster every time Mason called him that. He didn’t remember reacting like this when he was younger. He guessed that back then he’d just taken it for granted he belonged to Mason. But since he’d become an adult and learned the cold truth, that word had taken on new meaning. If only Mason could have adopted him…
“What’s going on?” Collier finally asked with a smile, something that didn’t come often or easily of late.
“I’ve set the date for the party,” Mason said without preamble.
Collier propped his foot on the bottom stair, almost wishing he hadn’t stopped by the mansion before heading for the office. It had been a while since he’d seen his brother, and he felt like a heel. Though officially retired, Mason maintained an office at the firm and spent a lot of time there. Not so with Jackson. If Collier wanted to see him, he had to make an effort.
“Your silence tells me you don’t approve.”
Collier blew out his breath. “No. I wish you hadn’t done it.”
“It’s the right thing to do.”
“I don’t agree,” Collier countered. “It makes me uncomfortable. We have to face facts. I might not get the appointment. Nothing’s for sure, you know.”
Mason gestured impatiently. “All the more reason to start tooting your horn now, especially since a friend called and told me Rupert Holt’s out lobbying strongly for his candidate, Travis Wainwright. I refuse to let Rupert get the upper hand.”
“When are you two going to stop taking punches at each other? This has been going on far too long. You ought to call a truce.”
“He’s the one with the ax to grind,” Mason said doggedly. “The one who keeps the pot boiling.”
Collier suppressed a sigh. “Regardless of how you feel about Rupert, Wainwright’s a credible candidate. He’s got a good chance of getting the presidential nod.”
“Over my dead body. No one associated with Holt’s going to kick your ass.”
Mason’s thick white eyebrows bunched together, giving him a fierce look. Collier understood why his mother had fallen for him. Not only was he downright handsome—tall and robust, with white hair and blue, blue eyes—he was highly intelligent and filled with boundless energy. And at sixty-six, he was blessed with good health.
Yet, since the tragedy that had befallen his eldest son, there was another side of Mason that had risen to the surface. He’d developed a vindictive, angry streak. Before, he’d been personable and levelheaded. Now, almost anything, insignificant or not, could set him off like a rocket.
No matter, Collier loved him and wanted to find favor in his eyes in everything he did. Sometimes, though, he thought that was an unattainable goal.
“Did you hear what I said?” Mason demanded.
“Uh,
