Secrets Of The A-List Complete Collection, Episodes 1-12. Cat Schield

      Thom slowly shook his head. “No. I’m afraid not.”

      “So sad. He is such a fine man.”

      “Yes, he is.”

      “I will continue to pray for him.”

      “We all will.”

      “Enjoy your day, Mr. Scott.”

      “You, too.”

      Thom turned to gaze out the window. He lifted the drape and looked out onto the expansive lawn that glimmered like a sea of emeralds under the spray of the automatic sprinklers. How many times had he and Elana darted through those sprinklers as kids?

      All through his growing-up years, he’d been Elana’s go-to guy. Although Elana had a constant string of suitors, she always made sure that Thom was on her arm for important events—prom, coming-out parties and family galas. As Harrison’s empire grew, so did the public face of the family. Thom was always there, part of the dinners, the parties, some of the getaways. Being a pseudo member of the family, he benefited from the power the Santiago-Marshalls wielded. It provided the perfect cover for him, while at the same time stoking a longing that he could never fulfill.

      His impending wedding to Elana was a blessing and a curse. The pressure from his family for him to settle down grew more intense, and his father insisted that Elana Marshall was the perfect woman for him. Thom cared for Elana. Deeply. But he wasn’t in love with her, not the way a husband should love a wife. What they had between them was an enduring friendship, and that would have to sustain him. There was a part of him that sensed that Elana was not in love with him, either, and that their marriage was only what her family wanted as well. They were both pawns in their family game. But in the end it would work for them both. They would each be what the other needed. They were the best of friends. He hoped that would be enough.

      Thom dropped the curtain back in place and strode toward the door. He could actually use something to nibble on and went in search of Joy. When he entered the foyer, he heard movement down the hall and headed toward it. He poked his head in the door of the library, expecting to see Joy or Vanessa.

      Instead he found a man.

      Rafe turned at the sound of movement behind him. “Thom...what are you doing here?” He shoved his cell phone in the pocket of his designer jeans, washed and worn enough to be soft and formfitting at the same time. His imported leather belt and loafers were offset by the blinding-white open-collar shirt that stood in contrast to his warm olive skin. Rafe ran his fingers through thick dark hair, tucking aside the troubling lock that forever fell across his brow. He clearly had his mother’s alluring Spanish looks, while Luc took more after their father.

      “Hey, sorry. I thought you might be Elana or one of the staff.”

      Rafe lifted his chin and nodded. “Late, I take it.”

      Thom chuckled. “Would she have it any other way?” He came fully into the room.

      “Drink?” Rafe asked before crossing to the bar. He lifted a bottle of tequila and checked the level.

      He probably shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach. “Sure, why not?”

      Rafe poured for them both then handed Thom a shot glass. He lifted his own. “To Dad.”

      “To Harrison.”

      They tossed back the content of their glasses and simultaneously ahhed.

      “Good stuff,” Thom said over the slow warmth that spread in his belly.

      “Only the best for the Marshalls,” Rafe said, his tone a mixture of scorn and sadness to Thom’s ears.

      Thom studied Rafe’s pensive expression. “How is your father? Any progress?” he asked gently, instantly regretting his question when he saw the shadow of pain pass across Rafe’s face.

      Rafe lowered his head, blew out a breath. “Not good. I suppose we should be grateful that he hasn’t deteriorated. But no change.”

      Thom covered the space that separated them and clasped Rafe’s shoulder, the wiry power of his body vibrating beneath Thom’s fingertips. “I’m so sorry, Rafe. He’s going to pull through. You have to have faith. Miracles happen every day.”

      Rafe nodded, moved away and fixed himself another drink. “It’s going to take a miracle. Seconds?”

      “No. I’m good.”

      “How are the wedding plans coming along?”

      Thom heaved a sigh. “That’s part of the reason Elana and I are getting together today. She’s been distant...even talking about postponing the wedding.”

      “Understandable, with Dad’s accident.”

      Thom shook his head, frowned. “No, the change in her started even before the accident,” he said, hoping Rafe might have some insight into what was going on with his sister. “I keep feeling like she is going to call the whole thing off.” He couldn’t let that happen. He needed this.

      “Hmm, well, you know Elana. She can’t keep her mind on one thing longer than a minute. The accident with Dad has us all in a bad place. Elana only needs one thing to spin her in another direction, but I’m sure everything will be fine.”

      “I hope you’re right. On second thought, maybe I will take another drink.”

      “Help yourself. Mi casa, su casa. Besides, you’re going to be a full-fledged member of the family. You have to be up to tossing them back with the rest of us. Helps make the rough edges nice and fuzzy.”

      Thom came to stand beside Rafe. Their shoulders brushed as Thom reached for the tequila. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He refilled his glass.

      Rafe turned and leaned his hip against the bar. His gaze settled on Thom’s face. “How’s the real estate biz?” he asked.

      Thom shrugged. “Being ushered into a family real estate business...a little different from doing your own thing.”

      “Nice to do what you love. Be who you are.”

      As heir to his father’s high-end real estate enterprise, Scott and Associates Inc. Thom knew image was everything. Thom’s father, Sam, prided himself on creating the illusion of exclusivity, from the polished appearance of his tailored suits to his expensive haircuts, designer jewelry and driving the right car. He passed those sensibilities onto his son. His mother, always at Sam’s side, was the beauty and charm of the business.

      Thom’s father made it clear that having a beautiful wife on his arm was part of a man’s success, part of the package. Equally important was the Marshall name and reputation and all the bells and whistles and contacts that came with it. His parents were fully on the marriage bandwagon. He couldn’t disappoint them.

      Rafe folded his arms across his chest. “Hmm, always tough to step out there, break the mold.” He shifted his stance. “Especially when the shadow of expectation is so high.”

      Thom blinked away the gamut of thoughts running through his head. He slowly nodded. “How do you handle it...the expectation? I mean, I know it couldn’t have been easy, with your parents being who they are and growing up in the spotlight.”

      Rafe gave a slight shrug. “It was a part of life, all we knew. But it wasn’t always easy—at least not for me.” He took a breath and looked off into the distance as he spoke. “Luc was the firstborn. Never got in trouble, the mediator. He always had the right girlfriend, the right clothes.” He snorted a laugh. “Luc always had a plan. I think he knew what he wanted from the moment he was born.” He finished off his drink and set down the glass. “Me, on the other hand...” He slowly shook his head. “I don’t know. I always felt like I never fit in, never lived up to my father’s expectations of what his son should be.”

      “Why?” Thom asked. “You’re a success in your own right, just like Luc.”

      Rafe looked him in the eye.