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don't know, Angel -- but I have to say I'm glad."
The Trouble with Angel - 41
Chapter 6
"Is Angel sleeping?" Trey's quiet question came from
the bedroom doorway.
Brandon had been staring at Angel, watching the
volatile man snore softly into the pillow. As soon as he'd
finished undressing the fashion plate, Angel had
tumbled into bed. Now, sitting on the bed next to the
prickly bastard, Brandon turned his head to look at the
boy. "Yes, he is, son. He had a little too much
excitement today."
The kid snorted. "Don't you mean a little too much
wine?"
Brandon looked at him alertly. The boy sounded
awfully adult there for a moment. "No, he just didn't eat
anything today, and he shouldn't have had the wine on
an empty stomach. That's all."
"Oh." Trey stepped into the bedroom, hands in his
pockets and his sock-clad feet shuffling in the carpet. He
moved aimlessly, poking his head into the huge walk-in
closet, then trudged over to the floor-to-ceiling
windows. He stared down at the lights of LA for a few
moments.
"Something you want to ask me?"
Trey stayed silent for a long minute, then leaned his
head against the glass. He spoke into the window
without turning his head. "What are you going to do
with us?" He sounded as though he didn't care, but
Brandon saw the tension in Trey's body language.
Rising to his feet, Brandon approached the boy,
stopping a few feet behind. Trey's head came up and the
child watched him in the glass.
"Trey, your grandfather asked me to give you a home
and to raise you right. Your mom and dad asked him to
make sure that happened. So, that's what I'm going to
The Trouble with Angel - 42
do. Sandy didn't live to fulfill your parents' request -- so
he gave the job to me." He rolled his own shoulders,
feeling the tension himself. Breathing deeply, he stepped
up to the window and looked down at the boy. "Son,
how about looking at me?"
When Trey reluctantly raised his head, their eyes
meeting, Brandon continued. "I know you never knew
your grandfather, so this might not mean anything to
you. But I want you to know that he cared a lot about
you and your sister." Brandon tentatively set a hand on
the boy's shoulder. "He talked about you, a lot. And he...
missed your mother, very much. It was like he had a
hole in his heart, not being able to see her very often."
Trey stared up at him, his eyes searching. "Why...
how come they didn't talk?"
Brandon shrugged slightly, unsure how much to tell
the boy. "I... well, your grandfather -- well, a long time
ago, he had a... drinking problem."
Trey nodded at him, appearing wise beyond his
years. "I heard my mom and dad talking about it."
His eyebrows raised in surprise, Brandon looked at
Trey with concern. "You did?"
His lips twisting a bit, the boy nodded. "Uh-huh.
They were arguing. My dad said... he wanted my mom
to call my grandfather... for help after he lost his job."
Brandon's hand slid off the child's shoulder. "Look --
let's sit down over there, okay?" He nodded toward the
sitting area of the master suite.
Brandon dropped down onto the loveseat, while Trey
perched on the edge of one of the upholstered chairs that
flanked it. He looked like he didn't know what to do
with his hands for a few moments before shuffling back,
pulling his feet up, and wrapping his arms around his
knees.
Pity in his heart, Brandon watched the child squirm a
The Trouble with Angel - 43
bit. "Hey, I know you don't know me -- or anything
about me."
Trey eyed Brandon, looking stubborn. "I know that
you got kicked out of rotation this year."
That stung. "I didn't get kicked out of rotation!"
Brandon said hotly. "My rotator cuff was..." He sighed.
"Okay -- you're right. I... did struggle this season."
Shrugging moodily, he huffed out a breath, dropping his
head against the back of the loveseat.
"My dad said you should have been traded."
That brought his head up. "Really? I guess that was
easy for him to say. 'Cause he didn't have to deal with a
manager who was over-pitching him and a trainer who
could easily get a job interrogating prisoners for the
Egyptians."
Trey stared back at him provokingly. "He said you
were kind of a weenie."
Irritated, knowing the kid was jerking his chain,
Brandon jumped up, pacing to the windows and back.
"Are you kidding me?" he demanded. "What does your
old man know about pitching?"
At that, Trey's head dropped down and his shoulders
slumped. "Not much, I guess."
Struck dumb at his own thoughtlessness, Brandon
stood there rigidly, face heating. Trey had curled even
more tightly into the chair, refusing to look up.
A snore from the bed startled them both.
Jolted, Brandon reached out a hand just as Trey
jumped up from the chair. The boy bolted from the room
before Brandon could react.
"Christ." He rubbed his fingers over his face. "If I
could kick my own ass, I would." Pulling in a deep
breath and hissing it out slowly, he forced himself to
walk out to the living room.
He scanned the huge, open floor plan of the
The Trouble with Angel - 44
penthouse, but there was no sign of Trey in the living
room or kitchen. Following the television sounds,
Brandon walked over to the media room. Despite his
frustration, he had to smile. Marisa was asleep in front
of the television, having fallen sideways on the leather
sofa. He grabbed the remote from the coffee table and
clicked it off, then bent down to swing her up into his
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