Exposed (16 page)

Observing her gloomy expression, Shanell said knowingly, “Trouble in paradise?”

Tamia sighed heavily.“Let’s just say we’re going through a rough patch.”

Shanell nodded. “I figured that’s what’s been bothering you. Hell, when you returned to the office on Monday afternoon with a bruised jaw and some story about banging your face into a table, I thought you and Brandon had really gotten into a fight.”

“Girl, are you crazy? Brandon would
never
hit me!”

Shanell shrugged. “You never know. Sometimes it’s the ones you least suspect.”

“Not in this case,” Tamia said with conviction, even as Brandon’s words whispered through her mind.
I think it would be best if I kept my distance from you tonight.

“Well, I hope the two of you work out your problems. And if you ever need a listening ear—” Shanell broke off abruptly, staring beyond Tamia’s shoulder. “Oh, hey, there’s Cynthia. Cynthia!” she called, excitedly waving her hand.

Tamia frowned at the name. Surely it couldn’t be the same Cynthia who’d been trying to seduce Brandon at the office?

“Hey, Shanell.” A woman’s friendly voice cut through the din of laughter and conversation.

Tamia’s hackles went up.

It
was
the same Cynthia.

As she reached their table, Shanell stood and gave her an affectionate hug. “Hey, girl! It’s so good to see you. Been a minute, hasn’t it?”

“I know,” Cynthia laughingly groaned. “I’ve been so swamped with work that I haven’t been to church in ages. As
you can imagine, Dad takes every opportunity to lecture me about the perils of putting my career before God.”

“So
you’re
the one he’s been preaching about in his sermons,” Shanell teased.

As the two women laughed, Tamia rolled her eyes into her martini glass. First Brandon, now Shanell. Was
she
the only one who wasn’t thoroughly charmed by Cynthia Yarbrough?

Shanell said, “Where are my manners? Let me introduce you to—”

“We’ve met,”Tamia interrupted as Cynthia turned to face her.

“Hello, Tamia,” she said politely.“It’s nice to see you again.”

“You, too.” Tamia smiled coolly, discreetly sizing up the other woman. Cynthia’s hair was perfectly flat-ironed, and she wore a silver blouse and a black pencil skirt that made Tamia wonder whether Brandon had spent the entire day admiring her round ass and toned legs.

Shanell divided a surprised glance between Tamia and Cynthia.“I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

“We just met two weeks ago,”Tamia said sourly.

“Brandon and I work at the same law firm,” Cynthia added.

“Really? I didn’t know that, and I’ve been a member of your father’s church for years.” Shanell grinned broadly.“What a small world.”

“Certainly is.”Tamia looked at Cynthia. “So you’re a pastor’s kid, huh?”

Cynthia sighed dramatically.“Alas, my cross to bear.”

Tamia flashed a fake smile.
Now I
really
have to keep an eye on you, heffa!

“Are you flying solo tonight?” Shanell asked Cynthia. “If so, you’re more than welcome to join me and Tamia.”

“Thanks, girl, but I’m meeting someone for drinks. Matter
of fact,” Cynthia said, glancing over her shoulder, “he just walked through the door.”

Shanell and Tamia looked around quickly to catch a glimpse of a handsome light-skinned man sporting rimless frames, a dark blazer, and faded jeans.

As his searching gaze swept over the crowd, Shanell murmured appreciatively, “Oooh, he’s cute. Where’d you meet him? At work?”

“Girl, no.” Cynthia glanced meaningfully at Tamia.“I never mix business with pleasure.”

Tamia held her eyes for a moment, then nodded imperceptibly. Maybe she’d misjudged sister-girl after all.

“You’d better not keep that fine brotha waiting,” Shanell advised Cynthia.“I can already see some YTDs checking him out.”

“YTDs?” Cynthia echoed blankly.

Shanell grinned.“Young, treacherous, and desperate.”

Both Cynthia and Tamia laughed.

As soon as Cynthia left to join her date, Shanell eyed Tamia knowingly. “See, you had nothing to worry about. She’s not after your man.”

Tamia shot her a startled look. “Who says I was worried about that?”

Shanell snorted.“Girl, please. I sensed the tension between you and Cynthia the moment she walked over here. I didn’t know why until she said that she worked with Brandon. And the comment she made about not mixing business with pleasure was for
your
benefit, not mine.” She chuckled, shaking her head.“I’ve known Cynthia for years, and I can assure you that she’s not the ‘scheming homewrecker’ type. But even if she were, you have no reason to worry. Brandon’s about as likely to cheat on you as you are to cheat on him.”

That’s what I’m afraid of,
Tamia mused grimly
.

*  *  *

When she pulled into her driveway two hours later, she was still preoccupied with thoughts of how to regain Brandon’s trust. So she paid no attention to the dark, nondescript sedan parked across the street.

Grabbing her belongings, she climbed out of the car and bumped the door shut with her hip. As she started toward the house, she heard the blare of a neighbor’s television and the lazy drone of voices wafting from a nearby porch. Down the street, an ornery dog barked and an arguing couple shouted profanities at each other. The sounds were strangely comforting in their familiarity.

Balancing her purse, attaché case, and the soggy newspaper she’d retrieved from the bottom porch step, Tamia muttered a curse when she dropped her keys. As she bent to pick them up, she caught a flash of light in her peripheral vision. She glanced up sharply at the dark sedan parked across the street just as three more flash bulbs lit up the night like fire erupting from a shotgun.

Tamia gasped and stumbled back against her front door.

As she watched, the driver’s side window rolled up and the mystery car sped off down the street.

Trembling violently, Tamia rushed inside her house, slammed the door, and hurriedly reset the security alarm. As she sagged against the door, struggling to catch her breath, she considered calling the police to report the disturbing incident. But what, exactly, would she tell them? How could she explain something she herself didn’t understand?

Who on earth would stake out her home and take pictures of her? Was it a stranger—or someone she knew? And what did the person plan to do with the photos?

The troubling questions swirled through Tamia’s mind, leaving her more confused and frightened than she’d ever been in her life.

Calm down,
she told herself.
There must be a perfectly rational explanation for what just happened. Maybe the driver had the wrong address. Or maybe someone was just playing a prank on you.

Tamia frowned, instinctively rejecting both possibilities.

Deep in her gut, she knew that something else was going on here.

But the truth was too unsettling to even contemplate.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet your mother and me for lunch today.”

Brandon sent his father a wry look across the linen-covered table.“You don’t have to thank me. You’re my parents.”

“True,” Bernard Chambers agreed, “but we both know how busy you are, especially with the Quasar Diagnostics trial coming up in June. Speaking of which, I can’t tell you enough how proud we are of you for landing a case of that magnitude. The fact that the partners entrusted you with such a high-profile wrongful-death lawsuit means that your partnership is a foregone conclusion. Not that there was ever any doubt,” he added with a wink.

Brandon sipped his chardonnay without comment. He didn’t feel like reminding his father that unlike everyone else,
he
didn’t take his partnership for granted. He wasn’t in the mood for the lengthy debate that would follow such a remark. Truth be told, he hadn’t been in the mood for much of anything lately.

He’d left work early that afternoon to have lunch with his parents at their sprawling estate in River Oaks, the most exclusive residential community in Houston. The pristine streets and boulevards were lined by rows of white-columned mansions
that boasted maids’ quarters and meticulously landscaped lawns and gardens. The eight-bedroom Mediterranean-style house where Brandon and his siblings grew up had been built by their great-grandparents, the first black couple to integrate the affluent neighborhood. The property would eventually be passed down to Brandon, as his parents’ eldest child. In recent months, he’d often imagined living there someday with Tamia and their own children. But now …

“Is something wrong with your meal, darling?” Gwen Chambers asked, breaking into Brandon’s thoughts.

He glanced up from his plate.“Hmm?”

“You’ve been picking at your food since it was served. Is something wrong with the sea bass?”

“Not at all. It’s perfect.” He smiled wanly. “I’m just not very hungry.”

Her shrewd, dark eyes narrowed in on his face. She was a maple-toned, elegantly attractive woman who bore a striking resemblance to the actress Diahann Carroll—as she’d been told by everyone from President Obama to criminal defendants who appeared in her courtroom.

“You look tired,” she observed.

Brandon’s smile turned wry.“You always say that, Mom.”

“Only when it’s true.” Lips pursed, she silently appraised him. “You’re not getting enough sleep. Something’s weighing on your mind.”

“Oh, leave the boy alone, Gwen,” her husband interjected. “He works for one of the top law firms in the country, and he’s preparing to litigate one of the biggest cases of his career. Of course he has things on his mind.”

Giving his father a grateful look, Brandon said, “Besides, Mom, you didn’t invite me over for lunch to hear about my heavy caseload. You said you and Dad had something important to share with me.”

“That’s right. We do.”

Joining hands on the table, Bernard and Gwen beamed at their son. “I’ve decided to run for governor in the next election,” Bernard announced.

Brandon grinned broadly.“Really? That’s great, Dad. Congratulations.”

“Thanks, son. Your mother and I figured it was time to make a decision and put an end to the speculation once and for all.”

“That’s a relief,” Brandon admitted. “Everywhere I go, people are always asking me when you’re going to announce your candidacy. I’ve run out of things to tell them.”

His father smiled. “Your mother and I certainly didn’t arrive at this decision overnight. There’s a big difference between serving as lieutenant governor versus governor.”

“That’s true,” Brandon agreed ironically. “You currently preside over the state legislature, which means you technically have more political power than your own boss.”

“Brandon,” Gwen gently scolded.

“What? I’m just speaking the truth. Everyone knows that Dad’s already running the show, which is why they’ve been pushing for him to make it official.”

Bernard laughed, shaking his head at his wife. “What can you say? The boy knows what he’s talking about. He’s a chip off the old block—a constitutional scholar just like his parents.”

Gwen sighed. “Yes, but we’re going to need David’s full support during the campaign, so we can’t have one of our own children going around saying that he’s merely a figurehead while
you’re
the brains behind the administration.” She smiled smugly.“Even if it’s true.”

Brandon and his father chuckled.

“As I was saying,” Bernard continued, trying to steer the conversation back on track, “going from lieutenant governor to governor will require a whole new level of commitment,
responsibility, and sacrifice. If I win the election, your mother will have to take an extended hiatus from the bench to serve as first lady.”

“But it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make,” Gwen assured him. “Honestly, I’m just looking forward to living under the same roof with you again, instead of only seeing you on the weekends when you drive down from Austin.”

“Yes, that would be a welcome change,” Bernard agreed, gently kissing her hand. “Although we
always
make good use of our weekends together.”

They grinned suggestively at each other until Brandon made a loud gagging noise that drew their attention.

“If I hadn’t already lost my appetite,” he told them, “that little exchange would have done the trick.”

They laughed.

As two uniformed servers emerged from the house to clear their dishes, Brandon absently surveyed his familiar surroundings. His mother had suggested eating outdoors to take advantage of the balmy spring weather. From the flagstone veranda, they could also enjoy the view of an enormous lawn that included a koi pond, a tennis court, and an Olympic-size swimming pool and cabana that were bordered by tall manicured hedges and palm trees.

After dessert had been served, Bernard picked up where the conversation had left off. “Since you’re the oldest, Brandon, your mother and I decided to share the big news with you first.”

Brandon made a pained face.“And you wonder why Beau and Brooke hate my guts.”

His mother laughingly guffawed. “Oh, hush! You know how much your brother and sister look up to you.”

Brandon grinned, sampling a spoonful of his baked Alaska.

“As you know,” his father continued, “my decision to run for governor means that the entire family will come under intense scrutiny.”

“Not again.” Brandon groaned. “Didn’t we go through enough vetting when you ran on the ticket the first time?”

“Yes, but that was over six years ago. A lot can change in that amount of time.”

“That’s right,” Gwen chimed in. “So we wanted to meet individually with you and your siblings to see if you have any concerns you’d like to share with us.”

“In other words,” Brandon translated,“you want to know if we have any skeletons in our closets that could be potentially damaging to the campaign.”

“Well … yes,” Gwen admitted.

“Not that we expect anything less than model behavior from our children,” Bernard confidently declared.

“Of course.” Brandon hid a smile in his glass as he took a long sip of wine.