I hear the distinct, unobtrusive click of high heels, the sound of some typing on the computer and then she directs her voice to me. “It’s Taylor.”

My breath gets caught in my throat. “Uh, it’s Brandi. Nate’s—”

“What do you want?” she asks, the light, airy pitch quickly deflated from her voice.

I take a breath and swallow hard. I don’t know what I’m doing. “What did you mean when you said your father isn’t who everyone thinks he is?”

It’s the best I can come up with. I figure I’ll start soft, then go in for the kill. I’m not even sure if I can go through with this.

She grunts, annoyed. “I tried to tell you earlier, but you—”

“I’m listening now.”

I actually don’t expect her to answer, but she huffs a taut, “Fine,” and I can almost hear her rolling her eyes. “You want to know the real reason why twenty percent of Van Doren’s profits go to animal charities and why the line doesn’t use leather, silk or fur? My mom was a vegan. She wanted to make a difference. Everything Van Doren stands for is because of her. It was her idea. Her vision. Not his. And if it weren’t for him, she’d still be alive.”

“Wait, you’re saying your mom...” I shake my head. “What are you saying?”

Her voice is low and urgent, as if she thinks I won’t believe her. “She put nineteen years into that relationship. She was always there for him. Always. She couldn’t handle knowing it had all been a lie. When she found out he was cheating on her...”

“Your mom killed herself?” I ask, softly. I shouldn’t care, but I do.

Taylor goes quiet. I’ve offended her. Or something worse. I don’t know. I don’t know her well enough to interpret her silence.

“Yeah.” She lets out a sigh and emotion swells in her voice, heavy and sudden. “Two years ago.”

She sniffles, which makes me think she’s crying, but I can’t imagine it. She seems too...cold. I try to find something to say to fill this weird silence between us, but her voice slithers through as soon as I open my mouth.

“My mom was my best friend.” She pauses. “A lot of people say that, but they don’t really mean it. I could talk to her about anything. We did everything together. Until she...until she got sick,” she says, and this is not even in the ballpark of what I was expecting.

“She was sick? I thought—”