Page 155 of Our Little Secret

It had been less than a week after her final near-death blowup with Gideon. Brooke had been on pins and needles, half expecting Gideon to show up on her doorstep again. To find him lingering in the park, or see his number show up on her phone as he tried to text or call her.

There had been nothing.

Radio silence.

The same was true of Leah. Once she’d walked through the airport doors at Sea-Tac, she hadn’t communicated with Brooke at all.

They’d gone about their lives.

As if none of the drama had happened.

Except that Neal had let it slip about the loan to Leah.

Brooke had stepped into his office and his laptop was open, Leah’s name visible. Neal had snapped it closed.

Too late.

Brooke had seen the lien again. But now Neal knew it.

“Fifty thousand dollars?” she’d said.

For once, Neal didn’t try to change or dodge the subject. It was almost as if he’d expected the confrontation.

“It’s secured.” He’d waved her into a side chair and she’d dropped into it.

Brooke couldn’t believe that he’d gone behind her back. “It’s Marilee’s college fund.”

“Not all of it. We’ll be okay.” But as he’d sat in his desk chair, he’d twiddled a pen between his fingers and the little tic at his temple, the telltale indication that he was nervous, became visible.

“Why, Neal?” she’d asked. “And why didn’t you talk to me about it?”

“Because you and Leah were already at each other’s throats and she told me that you were against it. In fact, she said you told her to talk to me.”

“But it’s so much money.”

“And she lost everything she had,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, having the decency to at least look a little uncomfortable. “Everything,” he repeated. “Including her inheritance.”

“By letting her dumbass husband get his hands on it!”

“She has nothing, Brooke, and we have so much. God, could you have a heart? She’s your sister!” And he’d seemed agitated then, the tic pulsing more visibly. She’d wanted to argue, to remind him that Leah was a victim of her own making. But Brooke had sins of her own. When she thought about what she’d been through, how she’d put her family as well as her own sanity at risk, she decided to drop it.

“Okay, fine,” she’d finally said. “But in the future before we loan out a penny, we discuss it.”

“Agreed.” He was nodding, looking out the window. “If we have to, we can take a loan out on the cabin.”

“What? No!” she’d argued. The cottage on Piper Island had been in the family for decades and all the while unmortgaged, owned free and clear. “Let’s not get crazy. I’ll have a new job soon and we’ll figure it out.”

“You should talk to Bill Clayton,” Neal had said. “They’re expanding, doing all things wirelessly, cutting-edge technology. You like that stuff. You and Marilee. I can call him.”

“No. Don’t. I’d rather do it myself,” she said.

“Always.”

That was true; she had a habit of trusting her judgment over others, creating her own path, and it had worked out for her—until Gideon.

So she’d called Bill Clayton, had been hired within a week, and she and Neal hadn’t mentioned the money that Leah had owed them again. Marilee’s boarding school was expensive, but they managed to get by, as they would when she went off to college.

“How about another?” Neal now was already pouring himself a second drink.

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