His Dirty Little Secret

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events portrayed in this book are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  All Rights Reserved © Terri Anne Browning 2017

  His Dirty Little Secret

  Written by Terri Anne Browning

  Published by Terri Anne Browning

  Edits by C&D Editing

  Cover Design and Formatting by IndieVention Designs

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Table of Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Epilogue

  ONE

  Ash

  THE RAIN WAS COMING DOWN like big, fat teardrops straight from heaven. I glared up at the sky, hating the weatherman for promising clear skies for the entire week. Because of him, I’d left my umbrella at home, along with my coat. Instead, I had dressed for a cool autumn day in jeans, a hoodie, and my favorite pair of converse. The ones that I’d been holding on to since I was sixteen. The ones that had a hole in the right sole.

  Now, as I raced from my car to the nearest entrance of the skyscraper that was my ultimate destination, I felt like a drowned rat. My clothes clung to me; my hair soaked through even with the hoodie up; and my feet were wet and cold, making a loud squishy sound as I ran.

  Squishy was the ultimate gross out for me. The word, the sound, the feeling. Everything about it made me shudder. Yet, there I was, soaked and squishy. Barf.

  Someone held the door open, and I called a thank you from over my shoulder as I hurried past them. The lobby was cool, because despite it being November, the AC was still blasting. Any other day I would have been perfectly happy for the frigid temperature, but today, I felt frozen all the way to my bones.

  As I rushed through the ground floor, I went through the metal detectors, but unlike everyone else, I bypassed the security desk. No one blinked an eye as the homeless looking chick—me—hurried toward the bank of elevators. They were used to me showing up and knew better than to stop me, even if I was in clothes that looked like I had gotten them from Goodwill, while everyone else was in expensive suits, handmade Italian leather shoes, or heels that could have paid my rent for three full months.

  My teeth were chattering by the time I got to the elevator and punched the call button. Come on. Come on. I knew that repeatedly hitting the button and cursing the damn thing was not going to get the metal box to move any faster. That didn’t stop me from doing it, though, until I heard the distinctive ping and the doors opened. I just wanted to get upstairs, get this day over with, then go home and fall into a nearly scalding bath to chase away the coldness that made my fingers numb and my feet ache.

  Twelve people stepped off the elevator. It was lunchtime, but with the torrential downpour outside, I was surprised they hadn’t opted to order in and eat at their desks.

  Once it was empty, I stepped in and stabbed the top button with a nerveless finger. Four other people were waiting, but no one joined me, and I was completely okay with that.

  I was dripping all over the tiled elevator floor. My hair was dripping into my eyes, and a few drops clung to the end of my nose. I looked and felt gross. If I was lucky, I wouldn’t catch a cold, but my luck had obviously ran out for the day.

  As the elevator ascended, it made a few stops along the way. When the people waiting for the ride saw me standing in the corner, they quickly backed out, muttering to themselves that they would just get the next one. I barely paid them any attention, too used to that reaction from nearly everyone. They couldn’t see beyond the comfortable clothes I opted to wear or the terrifying scar across my neck. Rather than have to talk to the boss’s freak of a sister, they avoided me like I had Ebola or some shit.

  I couldn’t have cared less. I had given up caring about what people thought of me years ago.

  The elevator came to a smooth stop, and the doors glided open. As I stepped off on the top floor, I was instantly assaulted by little arms wrapping around my legs, making me topple to the floor. The overhead lights blinded me as all fifty-two pounds of my godson landed on my stomach. His adorable smile was missing a front top tooth, making my heart do a painful flip-flop in my chest.

  “You’re late, Aunt Ash.”

  “It’s pouring rain outside, bud. I nearly drowned just walking across the street.” I didn’t try to get up; there was no use. I was going to be there as long as Jamie deemed acceptable.

  Now that I was face to face with the reason I was even out of bed on such a miserable day, I wasn’t in such a hurry to get home again.

  I gave him an exasperated sigh when he just stared down at me. “The things I do for the only man who owns my heart.”

  Jamie rolled his dark eyes, making my heart do that flip-flop thing again. This kid owned me, and he knew it. “You’re so dramatic sometimes, Aunt Ash.”

  All I could do was laugh at how grownup he sounded at times. I knew it was my own fault. I didn’t talk to him like he was a little kid—I never had. From the first time he had been placed in my arms the day his mother pushed him into the world, we had bonded, and I hadn’t felt right using baby talk or even censoring myself around him like most people did.

  There was nothing I wouldn’t do for this kid. Nothing.

  “Jamie, get off your aunt.”

  I lost the smile at the sound of the deep voice that could belong to no one but Jamie’s father.

  Jamie lost his smile, too, when he saw that mine had disappeared with the arrival of his dad. The kid wasn’t stupid; he knew there was tension between the two adults he adored.

  Lately, I had tried to hide my loathing for Sawyer Brannon, knowing that Jamie was starting to resent the man because I couldn’t stand to be around him. It was hard to do when he caught me unaware like this, though.

  Jamie carefully got off me, and then offered me his little hand to help me up. I took it and got to my feet, dusting off my wet pants as I did.

  Pushing my hood off my head, I shook out my long blonde hair. It was dripping wet, and I could already feel the effects of a cold trying to invade my body.

  “Damn it, Ash,” Sawyer scolded. “What were you thinking, going out without a raincoat or an umbrella?”

  Instead of answering him, I glanced at Jamie. “Got your stuff?”

  “It’s in Dad’s office.” But he didn’t look like he wanted to leave me long enough to go fetch it. His dark eyes kept going from me to his father, his little shoulders tensing more and more with each passing second.

  “Well, go get it, bud. I have work to do when we get home.” I ran my fingers over his slightly shaggy dark hair. His mom always sobbed when he got his hair cut, but Jamie hated for it to get too long, so I was normally the one who had to take him.

  While his hair was dark like his father’s, Jamie had gotten his mother’s curls, making him look like an adorable mop when it got overly long.

  Sighing, he nodded. “Okay.” He shot his dad a hard look that would have had me laughing if I didn’t feel so guilty for making their normally close father-son relationship so strained. “I’ll be right back.”

  I watched as he walked past the receptionist who was eating at her desk, down the corridor to where a huge glass-walled conference room was already full of CEOs having a working lunch. Sawyer’s office was the last door on the left while my brother, Brice’s, was the last on the right, with both their secretaries sha
ring the office across from the glass-walled conference room. I had always thought it was an odd layout for the top dogs, but I also knew that my brother and his best friend liked to keep their CEOs on their toes. The luxury of their offices, however, made up for it.

  Jamie paused outside of Brice’s office, waved at him, then went into the other room to retrieve his backpack and coat. There would be a plush leather couch against one wall where Jamie would sometimes nap after lunch that went well with the huge mahogany desk with Sawyer’s Mac taking up only a small portion of the monstrous thing. Behind the desk with that ridiculously modern chair that caught people off guard when they first saw how old-school traditional the rest of the office looked—thanks to Amber’s talent at decorating, but being unable to convince him that he needed a more “grownup” chair—was a breathtaking view of the city that Brice and Sawyer had fought over when they had first bought the building. But it was the bookcase that always hit me like a physical blow right to the heart.

  An entire wall of first editions Sawyer had collected, along with all the books Jamie enjoyed. The first time I had seen those expensive, leather bound books beside the small colorful picture books, I had found myself melting a little.

  Melting for my best friend’s ex-husband.

  It was wrong and heartbreakingly real, and I always left this place with my heart weighing me down every single time I had to go into that damn office. Therefore, I stayed where I was, even though that meant Sawyer was right there with me, and tried to pretend that he didn’t exist.

  “You’re going to catch a cold, Ash. HR tells me that at least ten people are out today with the damn flu,” Sawyer practically growled at me from under his breath so the receptionist didn’t overhear him.

  I shrugged, forcing my eyes away from where I had last seen Jamie to finally look at Sawyer. Like it did whenever I looked at him, my heart did that stupid flip-flop thing in my chest, making it ache twice as badly this time. I hated my reaction to just the sight of this man. Hated that the part of that damn organ, which had been reserved only for him, hadn’t died when he had married my best friend.

  “A cold won’t kill me,” I told him, my tone neutral as always when I had to speak to him. “And I already got my flu shot. I took Jamie to get his, remember?”

  It had taken a lot of practice to make sure I didn’t betray myself by so much as a flick of my lashes at how affected I was whenever he was close. No one had even suspected it had come close to killing me more times than I could remember when Amber and Sawyer had been married and I’d had to watch them together at parties and family gatherings. Everyone who saw them had said they were the perfect couple. The way Sawyer had seemed to cater to Amber’s every need. How Amber always looked at him like she had the entire world in the palm of her hand.

  When they had gotten a divorce, the world had been shocked, while I had breathed a small sigh of relief, knowing I wouldn’t have to see her ex nearly as often. That relief had been short-lived when I realized that I would still have to see him almost every damn day. I couldn’t give up the chance to see Jamie. Sawyer and Amber shared custody, and I babysat Jamie every afternoon, so I had to see him practically every other day.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, making his suit jacket tighten over his biceps.

  I gritted my teeth, mentally chastising myself for noticing anything about him. It was hard, though … So damn hard. Sawyer had the kind of good looks that screamed “look at me.” His dark hair was cut short, and the scruff on his face always looked at least a few days old, but I had always liked it. It made his dark eyes and slightly golden complexion stand out even more. He was six-foot-two of lean muscles that I knew he spent at least an hour each morning keeping in meticulous shape.

  How many mornings had he woke me up at five to go for a run? Too many, and not nearly enough.

  Pushing back those painful memories of a time when I had thought everything in my life was perfect, I locked them away. I had no business thinking about what it had been like when Sawyer had been mine. He never really had been. I had just been too stupid to see that back then.

  A big, tan hand lifted, his fingers grasping a dripping strand of hair and rubbing his thumb over it. My heart stopped beating for five full seconds, only to start racing. I swallowed hard and pulled back, forcing him to drop my hair. I saw his face darken, his forehead creasing. He watched me closely, his dark eyes trying to see past the thousand foot walls I had erected to protect myself from him.

  Once upon a time, he had been the only one who truly saw me. Now, I would die before I let him see how vulnerable I really was.

  “Ready,” Jamie called as he ran back to us.

  I crouched down when he reached me, straightening his shirt and buttoning his coat. When he was all bundled up, I rubbed my nose against his.

  Jamie had just turned five, but because his birthday was in November, he couldn’t start kindergarten until the next year. Therefore, he spent his mornings in daycare downstairs. At lunchtime, Sawyer went down to eat with him, then brought him up to his office where either Amber or I would pick him up.

  This week was different, though, as would be the next, since Amber was out of town with her boyfriend Leo for the next fourteen days. I would be picking Jamie up every day, which meant Sawyer was going to be stopping by my apartment every damn night to pick up his son. Perfect.

  Yeah, not so much.

  Straightening, I took Jamie’s hand in mine. He was warm compared to my chilled body, but I didn’t dare let my teeth start chattering in front of Sawyer.

  He muttered a curse under his breath and turned away. “Don’t you dare leave yet,” he called over his shoulder as he marched toward his office.

  I rolled my eyes at his commanding tone, but did as I was told. If it had just been me, I would have told the man to go to hell and been out of there in a flash. It wasn’t just me, though. I was about to leave with his son. If he had something he needed me to take for Jamie, I would wait all day.

  Behind me, the elevator doors opened. Jamie and I both turned to watch a woman in a knee-length black skirt that seemed to have been spray painted over her huge ass step off. She wore a red blazer over a white top that dipped low—far too low to be considered business attire. It showed off a pair of breasts that had probably cost her—or maybe her sugar daddy—a nice chunk of change. I grimaced at my inner musings, slightly ashamed of myself for judging this woman without knowing her, yet unable to help it.

  I wasn’t sure how tall she was. With her heels, she was at least four inches taller than me. Without them, I was probably taller by at least a few inches. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a bun, but her makeup was anything but conservative. Her lips had so much lipstick on them I wasn’t sure if she had lip injections to get them that full or if they were naturally like that. Her glasses didn’t hide the fact that she had gone a little extra heavy with the smoky eye look, but from the blank look on her face, I wondered if she actually needed them, or if they were just an accessory.

  I wasn’t normally one to dislike anyone at first sight, but something about her just rubbed me the wrong way.

  As the elevator doors closed behind her, she turned her head, her brown eyes taking in everything around her in one appraising scan. When they landed on me, her lips twisted with distaste then unveiled disgust when she saw my scar. My dislike for her doubled.

  She quickly turned her gaze on Jamie and the smile she gave him was so white it could qualify as a floodlight.

  “Hi, Jamie,” she greeted in a husky voice that sounded just as fake as the rest of her. “Is your daddy around?”

  It set my nerves on edge the way she seemed to talk down to him. Jamie didn’t seem to appreciate it, either.

  “My father is in his office, but he doesn’t have time for your kind of crazy, lady,” he informed her in a tone dripping with all the contempt this woman had just shown me, and oozing with an attitude I had no one else to blame for but myself.

  I knew the res
ponsible adult thing to do would be to chastise him for being rude. Amber would have gone through the roof at the tone her son was using with this woman. I wasn’t Amber. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to scold him when all he did was let this super-fake woman with the mean girl mentality know he didn’t like her.

  She lost her smile, making her look older and not nearly as pretty as she tried so hard to look. “You’re not a very nice little boy.”

  “And you’re a bitch,” I told her before Jamie could open his mouth. “He still wins.”

  Her brown eyes turned hostile. “I’m sure I don’t care what a raggedy nanny thinks about me. Don’t you have a job to do?”

  I almost laughed. Almost. This bitch didn’t even have a clue.

  The receptionist cleared her throat behind us, letting us all know that she had overheard everything.

  The older woman lifted her head, trying to put her fake smile back in place. “Hello, Leah. Can you let Brice know I’ve arrived?”

  Leah, who had been working for my brother and Sawyer from day one and had always been cordial to every person who stepped onto the top floor, didn’t return the other woman’s smile. “Of course, Miss Prescott. I’ll let Mr. Montgomery know.” Pretty blue eyes trapped behind a pair of chic glasses turned to me, her smile returning. “Miss Montgomery, should I inform your brother you’re leaving?”

  I didn’t laugh when the not-so-lovely Miss Prescott paled under her layers of expensive foundation. I didn’t smirk or even childishly stick my tongue out at her when her mouth fell open and she imitated a dying fish with the way her lips moved but no words escaped. I wasn’t that petty, after all.

  It didn’t matter to me that now that this fake as hell woman knew I was Brice Montgomery’s sister she was sorry for insulting me. I was used to people talking down to me, only to try and kiss my ass when they realized I wasn’t what I appeared.

  Once, that would have stung, but now it rolled off my back. My heart was so calloused and scarred from the past that it would take more than this mean girl wannabe to even come close to hurting my feelings.