Billionaire's Trust (Standalone Book) (Billionaire Bad Boy Romance) (3 page)

CHAPTER
SIX

Brooke

"
We
have to do something to generate a
positive cash flow, guys," I said. We were sitting around the big oval
table in the conference room that we'd outfitted to impress clients. The room
was a testament to
Jordie's
impressive design skills
and the functionality of modular furniture bought at one of the office
furniture outlet stores near Skid Row. It was impressive, but that wasn't
helping us attract clients, only impress them once we got them in the door.

"Chill out,
Brooke," Roger said as he sipped coffee from a cup that said “Hang Ten”
and “
Chillaxe
” on the side in red letters. His surfer
dude attitude irritated me.

"Chill out?
You want me to chill out, do you?" I said, fighting to hide my irritation.
"We're months behind in everything except our insurance payments, and we
have exactly three clients on our roster. I'm not sure why you're advocating
the 'chill out' approach when what we really need is a 'step it up and get some
business' approach."

"Look, don't
stress out on me," Roger began.

"Stress out
on you? Stress out on
you
?" I
shouted. "I'm stressed out in general, and it might help if you were a
little less chilled!"

"Guys, guys,
guys,"
Jordie
intervened. "It's not going
to help if we start attacking one another. We need a game plan, so let's focus our
considerable brain power on formulating one, shall we?"

I shot Roger a
dirty look as he gave
Jordie
a thumbs up and a
lopsided smile.
Jordie's
look pleaded with me to
relax, so I sank back in my chair and waited to hear what he had to say.

"We need to expand
the practice and attract new clients, that's for sure," he said. "But
what we really need is a just one really high profile case that will get our
firm on the front pages."

"Oh, so we
need to find someone who's a murderer or something," I said dully.

"Well, that
would be ideal,"
Jordie
replied. "But it's
probably not very likely, so we need to look at some of the sketchier elements
in town and see if there's anything we can do to get them to use our
services."

"Oh,
cool," Roger said. "So, we need to get in bed with the mafia? All
Godfather
and shit?"

"Roger,"
I warned. The other reason Roger infuriated me was that his cool surfer dude
persona was totally an act. He talked like a
lunkhead
while the three of us were together, but when he got in a room with a client or
in a courtroom in front of a judge, he was as sharp as a tack and didn't miss a
beat.

"What?"

"Guys, I'm
serious,"
Jordie
said. "We need a high
profile case – just one – then we win it and everyone will flock to us for
help."

"But what about
the illegal activities of the folks you are talking about attracting?" I
asked.

"Brooke,
seriously,"
Jordie
said. "Everyone deserves
legal representation."

"Even the bad
guys?" I asked.

"Dude, the
bad guys need it most of all," Roger interjected. "They always get
the short end of the stick and never the benefit of doubt. They have to work
ten times harder to prove they're innocent, whether or not they are. I think
these are the kinds of cases we could really win."

"So, what do
we do when we're defending drug dealers and thugs?" I asked.

"We represent
them,"
Jordie
said. "We don't lie; we
simply represent them to the best of our ability."

"Jesus,
Brooke," Roger said in an exasperated tone. "You need to come down
off your high horse and join the real world where things aren’t all good or
evil and black or white!"

"Wait a
minute, that's not fair!" I shouted. "You're the one who is always
bouncing between extremes, not me!"

"What the
hell are you talking about?" he shouted.

"I mean,
you're in love with a new woman every other week, but you can't see the forest
for the trees!" I yelled. I had a vague sense in the back of my mind that
I was now being unreasonable, but Roger had a tendency to push me over the edge
– kind of like my brother, Teddy, did.

"What the
hell does my love life have to with this firm's clients?" he yelled.

"It's an
indication of your inability to make sound judgments when it comes to clients
and business!" I knew I was treading on thin ice, but my frustration
overruled my brain and I headed perilously close to the edge.

"Oh
really?" Roger said with a raised eyebrow. "If we're going to start
judging each other based on our romantic relationships, then I'd say that
you're at the base of our problem, Brooke."

"What the
hell are you talking about?"

"You take
perfectly good men and crush them under the weight of your expectations about
how much they can take when it comes to your devotion to your job," he
said calmly. "I'd say that about defines the problem, wouldn't you?"

Dumbfounded, I
stared at Roger. He'd hit a nerve and I could feel the blow reverberating
through my body. I took a deep breath and said, "Fuck you, Roger."

"Truth hurts,
doesn't it, baby girl?"

"Dammit, you
two!"
Jordie
shouted. "I'm so sick and
tired of your constant attempts to top each other and prove you're each the
alpha dog. Fuck you both! This is my firm, too, and I want to do something to
save it, not tear it apart and leave the pieces in the gutter!"

No one said a word
for a couple of minutes and then Roger muttered, "I'm sorry."

"Me
too," I replied.

"Back to
work?"
Jordie
said hopefully.

"Back to work."
I nodded and we sat down and started to map out a plan for saving our law firm.

CHAPTER
SEVEN

Dax

Hundreds
of well-dressed young people came to Apex looking to dance, drink, and
hopefully hook up. I aimed to give them everything they were looking for – and
then some. A good portion of the club-goers had already been screened and
checked and would be allowed into the roped-off portion of the club, where they
could discreetly buy drugs from a number of waitresses who silently circulated
carrying old-fashioned cigar trays on their voluptuous chests.

I watched the club
fill up from my vantage point in the office above the dance floor and tried to
figure out how I would manage to keep things running smoothly until Lydia
returned. This had happened before, and I knew she wouldn't be gone long. It's
just that this was the first time anyone except me knew that she was missing.
All the other times, she'd called me from a sleazy motel somewhere outside of
town and begged me to come pick her up, and every time I would.

At one point, I'd
thought Lydia was the one. A leggy redhead whose personal and professional
attitudes were the exact same, I admired her strength and was aroused by the
challenge she constantly presented. The problem was that Lydia and I were so
completely combustible and once her match lit my gasoline, we had problems. We
spent a couple of years going back to each other again and again with disastrous
results until we agreed that we could work together and, eventually, be
friends, but we couldn't keep trying to make a relationship work – no matter
how hot the sex was.

Lydia lived life
on the edge. She hated being bored and lived for the thrill of new experiences,
which was probably why she loved working with me. Once we'd set the boundaries
of our professional relationship – and stuck to them – she went out looking for
something to fill the space. I was often tempted to get back together with her
just to stop the downward spiral of self-destruction, but she wouldn't allow
it. So, I watched from the sidelines and cleaned up the messes.

Meanwhile, Lydia
kept my organization out of trouble with the courts. She bailed my corner boys
out and prevented the police from raiding the club or my hotel over on Grand
Ave. No matter how messed up her personal life was, she kept her professional
life in tiptop shape. I knew she’d been working on a new deal that would have
put the firm on solid ground in the legitimate legal world. I knew she had
worked incredibly hard to establish herself as a lawyer that people could
trust. I was worried about this disappearance – it wasn't like her.

I looked back down
at the floor and saw Beck walking toward the bar, closely followed by
Riza
. He seemed oblivious to her presence as he had a small
curvy brunette tucked under his arm. She looked familiar, but I couldn't place
her.
Riza
looked up at the two-way mirror and raised
an eyebrow, then looked back at Beck and his date.

I quickly tapped
out a message on the screen of my phone and hit send. I looked back down at the
floor and saw
Riza
glance at her phone, then look up
and nod. She turned and walked toward the back of the club, leaving Beck and
his girl at the bar.

"He picked
her up on Flower and then went to dinner before heading over here,"
Riza
said as she walked into the office. "Seems legit,
but I don't recognize her."

"I do,"
I said. "But I don't know why."

"You think
she's a plant?"

"I don't
know, but I do know that Beck is dumb enough not to recognize her if she
is," I said as I looked out over the club and watched him falling for the
petite girl. The feeling that I knew her was nagging at me, but we had bigger
fish to fry. "Did you find out anything about Lydia?"

"Nah, no
one's talking," she replied. "But I get the feeling that someone
knows something. I just don't know who that someone is."

"
Ri
, do you think she's okay?" I asked.

"No idea,
boss," she said. Her answer unnerved me because I knew that it meant that
she was worried, too. If
Riza
had been sure that
Lydia was just on another bender, she would have already tracked her down.

"Something
feels very wrong, but I don't know what it is," I said. "We need to
get a handle on this situation and lock it down,
Ri
. Otherwise, we're going to be hemorrhaging before
we know it."

"What do you
want me to do?"

"I want you
to find Lydia and then figure out who this girl is that Beck's hooked up
with," I said as I looked back out over the dance floor and watched Beck
slow dancing to fast music with the little brunette. His hands were cupping her
ass and the two of them were kissing. "And get them the fuck off the dance
floor before they wind up getting arrested for indecent exposure, would
you?"

"Sure thing,
boss."
Riza
grinned as she saluted and headed
for the door. Before she exited, she turned and said softly, "
Dax
, it's going to be okay. I'll find Lydia and make sure
that Beck doesn't make an ass of himself."

"I hope
so," I said as I massaged my temples and watched the floor. "I sure
as hell hope you can work your magic to keep us out of trouble."

"I got your
back, boss," she said and then she was gone.

CHAPTER
EIGHT

Brooke

Once
we'd all calmed down, Roger,
Jordie
, and I spent the
rest of the day mapping out a plan of attack. We decided to launch an Internet
campaign that would be directed at those who ran with a faster and looser crowd
than we'd been used to representing and see what it brought in.

Roger and
Jordie
had come up with a slogan that was both humorous and
serious, even Alma chuckled when she typed up a copy of the flyer that read,
"If you've got 99 problems, don't let your lawyer be one of them!
".
I wasn't sure I agreed with the approach, but since
I couldn't come up with a reason why we shouldn't do it – and because I was
still smarting from Roger's accusation – I went with the guys and threw myself
into the process of attracting more business.

The three of us split
up and took separate sections of town where we'd hand out the flyers and make
contact with people who'd be likely to send clients our way. My stops were all
of the bail bond places on Skid Row. I smiled and handed out flyers and cards
as I made it clear that no case was too small and no problem too big for us to
handle. The people in the bail bond offices nodded, took the flyers, and then
went back to processing the bonds necessary for their clients to get out of
jail.

After the fifth less-than-enthusiastic
response, I felt let down and knew I needed to change my attitude. So, I drove
by the fire station looking for my brother, Teddy. As usual, he was in the
kitchen, whipping up dinner.

"
Brookie
!" he shouted. "Come here and help me stir
this pot!"

"Teddy, you
know I don't cook," I laughed.

"This isn't
technically cooking," he shot back. "It's stirring, there's a
difference. Believe me."

"Fine,
whatever." I walked over and took the spoon out of his hand as he leaned
in and kissed my cheek.

"It's good to
see you, Sis," he smiled. "What brings you down to the good old
28?"

"I just
wanted to check on you and see what you were doing," I said nonchalantly.

"Mom sent
you?" he asked.

"No! I came
of my own accord!" I laughed.

"
Oooh
, such big words for such a little girl!" he
teased. "You'd think you were a lawyer or something! Oh wait, you are,
aren't you?"

"You're such
an ass," I said as I shifted my stance and hip bumped him hard enough to
send him shuffling sideways a few steps.

"Watch it,
little sis!" he laughed. "I'm working with hot stuff here!"

"What is it
you're cooking, anyway?" I asked as I stuck the spoon into the red sauce
bubbling on the stove and gave it a few stirs.

"Spaghetti Bolognese!"
he said as he focused his attention on a sizzling skillet full of ground beef.
The smell was intoxicating, but then, Teddy was an extraordinary cook. He'd
been cooking since he was nine. My parents had tried to convince him to open a
restaurant, but he'd said that having to do it professionally would take the
fun out of something he enjoyed. So he joined the fire department and
volunteered to cook for his crew. This made him the single most popular fire
fighter in the department. Everyone wanted to work with Teddy Raines. But to me,
he was just my annoyingly protective big brother.

"It smells
amazing," I said as I continued to stir the sauce that I knew full well
didn't need stirring. "You're a genius when it comes to food, Teddy."

"Aw, thanks,
Sis," he smiled as he carefully browned the beef, adding a few more herbs
and some garlic. "But really, why are you here?"

"Teddy, am I
unreasonable?" I asked, barreling into the discussion.

"Define
unreasonable," he said.

"I mean, do I
have unrealistic expectations of men in my life?" I continued. "Do I
crush men under the weight of my expectations?"

"Who fed you
that bullshit?" he asked.

"Just someone
who was making an observation about why I'm not able to maintain a
relationship," I admitted. "I just can't tell if it's true or
not."

"Sis, aside
from the fact that you're my pesky little kid sister, you're not any more
unreasonable than any other human being on the planet," he said. "You
just have high expectations because you were raised by two extraordinary
individuals who taught you to believe that you have value and worth."

"But does
that make it impossible for me to maintain a relationship with a man?" I
asked.

"It
might," he said as he pulled the skillet off the stove and siphoned off
the grease. "But is that such a bad thing? I mean, do you know how many
women I've dated who have exceptionally low expectations?"

"No," I
said. "How many?"

"Too
many," he said as he carefully patted the meat with a paper towel,
removing the last bits of grease. Watching Tommy cook was like watching a master
painter or sculptor. He did every step with care and focus and that was the
reason his food was so intensely delicious. "It's hard to respect a woman
who lowers her standards to meet whatever anyone offers her. Gina was the first
woman who didn't do that, you know?"

"Is that what
you like about her? Her high expectations?" I asked.

"Hell yeah, I
love that about her," he said as he carefully folded the brown seasoned
beef into the pot I was stirring. The scent wafted upward and I felt dizzy as I
inhaled. "She doesn't let me get away with anything, and that inspires me
to aim higher and achieve more, but she loves me unconditionally, too. Her
thing is that if I try and fail, it's a thousand times better than never trying
at all."

"I did not
know she was such a motivator," I said as I looked down into the pot and
continued stirring.

"Why do you
think I took the Lieutenant's exam last winter?" he asked.

"Gina put you
up to that?"

"No, she
simply told me that if I didn't try, I'd regret it. Because it was obvious to
her that I had the skills, intelligence, and experience to make a great
Lieutenant," he said. "How could I not try after that glowing
appraisal?"

"But you're a
total jackass." I grinned into the pot, bracing for what would come next.

"Indeed I am,
Sis," he laughed. "Here, put this in the pot, will you?"

"You didn't
noogie
me," I said surprised that for once in his life
my brother had not put me in a half-nelson and rubbed his knuckles into my
head.

"I'm on
duty," he grinned. "You'll get yours later. Why don't you stay for
dinner?"

"I'd love to,
but I need to get these flyers out and Mom's expecting me," I said.

"You don't
want to see Jake," he said.

"Well,
there's that," I nodded.

"He's
engaged, you know," Teddy said.

"Yeah, I'd
heard that."

"Then you two
should be able to sit at opposite ends of the table and not start World War III,"
he said. "Stay and have dinner with me, please?"

"Hey, that
wasn't my fault," I protested. "He started it and finished it. I was
just dragged along for the ride."

"Sis, I
know," Teddy said as he patted my shoulder. "You give as
good
as you get."

"Whatever,"
I grumbled as I stirred a little faster.

"Hey, hey,
hey, easy on my sauce," he said as he took the spoon and lifted it to his
lips. "Ahhh, the perfect sauce for the perfect noodles!"

"You are such
a weirdo when it comes to food," I laughed.

"Never heard
you complain about a meal I made," he replied as he turned and pulled the
bread out of the oven. "Now, go call the crew to dinner, will you?"

#

"
Be
nice," Teddy whispered, as he set
the steaming bowls of pasta down on the table and then sat next to me.

"I'll do my
best," I said through gritted teeth as I watched Jake Conner take his seat
on the other end of the table.

"Hey,
Brooke," he called as he helped himself to leafy green salad. "Glad
you could join us!"

"Are you
now?" I asked and cried out as I felt Teddy's work boot connect with my
ankle. "I mean, it's really nice to be here."

"How have you
been?" Jake asked. "I hear the law firm is doing well."

"It's a
challenge," I admitted. "We're trying to drum up more business right
now."

"Hey, that's
great!" he said.

"How are you
doing?" I asked in a tone that was politer than I felt like being, but the
threat of Teddy's boot kept me trying. "I hear you're engaged."

Half the heads at
the table snapped up and looked at Jake waiting to hear how he would navigate
this minefield.

"Yeah, can
you believe it?" he said with a sheepish grin. "Cindy agreed to get
hitched."

"No, I'm not
surprised at all," I said as I twirled the thick linguini noodles with my
fork. "You two were always good at making things happen together."

"Hey, what
does that mean?" he said as he grabbed the tongs and put more pasta on his
plate. "Pass the sauce?"

"It just
means that the two of you have always worked well together," I said, then
added, "Even when you weren't together."

"I never
fucking cheated on you, Brooke, and you know it!" Jake exploded, tipping
the bowl full of sauce as he shot up out of his seat and pounded on the table.
"You know I never cheated!"

"Did I say
you cheated?" I shouted.

"No, you used
your lawyer skills and you implied it," he yelled. "You're always so
judgmental and just below the surface where you think you'll never get caught!
You've always hated Cindy, and you're still pissed that I moved on and found a
way to be happy while you're still so damn...damn...damn miserable!"

I sat at the other
end of the table staring at him. He had lashed out and stabbed my soft
underbelly with his words. He was right, of course, but I didn't want anyone to
know how much his words hurt. Teddy grabbed my hand under the table and
squeezed tightly. I knew he knew what was going through my mind, and I also
knew that I had to keep my temper under control. I was in his space, the place
where he had to live and work. I couldn't afford to let loose and soothe my
wounded ego by tearing Jake to pieces. I knew that he had actually cheated on
me with Cindy, and he knew it, too. But to explain why I knew meant I'd have to
admit that I wasn’t good enough to keep a man and that was something I'd rather
have forgotten. Dredging it up here in the firehouse wouldn’t do either of us
any good.

"Jake,"
I said calmly as I stared down at my plate. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that we
can't sit down and have a nice dinner. I'm sorry that you're still angry with
me after all this time. And I'm sorry that you feel I used my lawyer skills to
belittle you. I'm sorry."

The guys at the
other end of the table gently punched Jake's shoulder and murmured that he
should accept my apology. Teddy squeezed my hand harder, and I knew he was
grateful that I was making the first move to be civil. Jake looked at the table
for a long time before he looked up at me and said, "I don't accept your
apology, Brooke. You're a ball-busting bitch and the reality is that you're
never ever going to find a man who will love you the way I once loved you.
You're going to spend your life being miserable because you are a small, mean,
angry woman who likes to make strong men feel weak. So, fuck you."

And with that,
Jake turned and stormed out into the truck bay. A couple of the guys followed
him and I could hear them yelling at him, but the damage had been done. I
looked at Teddy as the tears welled up in my eyes, then I crumpled up my
napkin, threw it on the table, grabbed my purse off the counter, and ran out of
the station crying. Teddy chased me, yelling my name, but I didn't want his
sympathy or, worse, a lecture.

Maybe Jake was
right. Maybe I was a miserable, mean woman who couldn't do anything right. I
shoved the key into the ignition, cranked the engine, and peeled out of the
drive. I had already decided that I needed a stiff drink and some time alone,
so I headed straight for Dooley's over on 7
^th
and Olive. If I couldn't
fix my problems with words, then I would drown them with alcohol.