Exposed (17 page)

His parents eyed him expectantly.“Well?”

“‘Well’ what?”

“Is there anything you’d like to share with us?” Bernard prodded.“Anything at all?”

“Well, now that you mention it …” Brandon made an exaggerated show of glancing around the veranda, then leaned across the table and dropped his voice to a low, confiding murmur. “I guess now’s the time to come clean about the sixty grand bribe I took from that corporate embezzler I defended last year.”

His mother gasped.“Brandon!”

His father frowned with disapproval. “That’s not funny, son.”

Brandon laughed.“Relax, folks. I was just kidding.” Leaning back in his chair, he twirled the stem of his glass between his long fingers.“I can assure both of you that I haven’t done anything to make myself a liability to the campaign. Not that I know of anyway.”

“Good.” Bernard and Gwen traded quick, uneasy glances. “What about that woman you’ve been seeing?”

Brandon froze mid-twirl and stared at his parents. “How do you know about her?”

Another shared glance.

“The last time I saw Mort Chernoff at the country club,” Bernard explained, “he told me about a beautiful young lady you’ve taken to several company functions. He said her name was Tamara—”

“Tamia,” Brandon corrected.
Shit!
How could he have forgotten that his father played golf with one of the founding partners of the law firm?

“Tamia,” Gwen mused, tapping an elegant finger to her lips.“What an … interesting name.”

Brandon knew by her tone that it wasn’t a compliment.

“Your mother and I have been waiting for you to mention her. But you never have.” There was a trace of censure in Bernard’s voice.“How long have you been dating her?”

Brandon hesitated, carefully setting down his wineglass. “Eight months now.”

“Eight months!”
his mother burst out incredulously.

His father looked equally shocked. “That’s longer than you’ve ever dated anyone, son. You must be getting pretty serious about her.”

“Maybe.” Brandon saw no reason to tell his parents that his relationship with Tamia had been on shaky ground ever since he’d caught her in a blatant lie—and God only knows what else.

His mother covered his hand with hers, urgent with cu-riosity.“Who is she, darling?”

That’s funny,
Brandon mused.
I’ve been asking myself the same question all week.

“Her name is Tamia Luke,” he said aloud.“She’s an account executive at Richards Carruth. You’ve probably noticed some of her advertising work on billboards around town. She’s very talented.”

“Where did she attend school?” his mother wanted to know.

“She graduated from a local university.”

“Rice?”

“No. Not Rice.”

“I see.” Gwen exchanged a meaningful glance with her husband.“Is she from Houston?”

Translation:Who are her people and how connected are they?

Brandon sighed.“Her parents died several years ago. So it’s just her and her younger sister, a junior at Hampton.”

“Hampton, huh?” Bernard smiled approvingly.“You know President Harvey is an old friend of mine.”

Brandon chuckled dryly. “Yes, Dad, I know. And, no, you shouldn’t have him look up Tamia’s sister’s transcript.”

Bernard took umbrage.“I would do no such thing.”

“I would,” Gwen drawled unapologetically.

Brandon and his father shared a laugh.

“So, darling, when do we get to meet Tamia?” Gwen asked smoothly.

Brandon immediately sobered.“I don’t know, Mom.”

She frowned. “What on earth do you mean? You’ve been dating this woman for eight months, even taking her to company functions to meet your colleagues. Don’t you think we have a right to meet her as well?”

“Honestly,” Brandon said sardonically, “I didn’t want you guys raking her over the coals. You know, sorta like you just did with me.”

His parents had the grace to look sheepish.

It didn’t last long.

“There’s nothing wrong with your father and me wanting to make sure that Tamia is suitable for you,” Gwen said in that cool, haughty voice Brandon recognized all too well. “We’re only looking out for your best interests.”

“Umm hmm.” He knew there was no point in arguing with her.

She briskly patted his hand. “We’re officially kicking off your father’s campaign with a dinner party here at the house next month. Some of our closest friends, advisers, and supporters will be in attendance. Why don’t you invite Tamia?”

“Yes, absolutely. Invite her so we can meet her before the campaign gets under way.” Bernard smiled to soften the snap of authority in his voice. “You know I don’t like surprises, son.”

“Neither do I, Dad,” Brandon murmured, raising his glass to his lips.“Neither do I.”

“It’s me. Tamia.”

There was a long pause on the other end.“I thought I told you I’d be in touch when I was ready to see you again.”

She scowled into the phone.“Nigga, this ain’t some damn booty call. I’m calling about something else.”

“I’m listening.”

Tamia glanced in her rearview mirror. The glow of headlights from other vehicles conjured images of demon eyes watching her in the dark night. She swallowed nervously. “I think your wife is having me followed.”

Dominic paused again.“Why do you think that?”

“Last night when I got home, there was a strange car parked across the street from my house. The driver took several photos of me before speeding off.” She gulped hard, still shaken by the incident.“And then tonight when I left work, I could have sworn I saw the same dark car following me. I started driving really slow, so he must have realized that I spotted him because he got off at the next exit, and I haven’t seen him since.”

“Calm down, woman. You sound terrified.”

“I’m not terrified,” Tamia snapped. “I’m
rattled.
There’s a big difference.”

“Are you on your way home now?”

“No. I have a hair appointment across town.”After that, she
was heading straight to Brandon’s condo. She’d packed enough clothes to last her for two weeks. She wasn’t taking any more chances by returning home.

“I don’t think Isabel is having you followed,” Dominic said quietly.

“How the hell do you know?”Tamia shouted.“You didn’t even know she was stalking me until she showed up at the coffee shop!”

“Fair enough. But now that she knows who you are, why would she keep following you?”

“Maybe she’s planning to divorce your cheating ass and take you to the cleaners, so she hired a private investigator to get her the proof she needs. Or maybe she just wants to fuck with my mind. I told you the bitch is crazy!”

He was silent for a moment, pondering her words.“Have you considered another possibility?”

Tamia’s heart knocked against her rib cage. She knew what he was going to say, but she didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to believe it.

“I think the lies you’ve told your boyfriend are finally catching up to you.”

“Excuse me?”
Tamia sputtered indignantly. “And whose fault is it that I’ve been lying to Brandon?”

“Ah, but even before I entered the picture, you’d already established a pattern of deception.” Dominic chuckled softly. “That’s what made you such an easy target.”

Tamia felt chilled to the bone.“So this has all been a fucking game to you? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“Not at all. I miss you, and I can’t wait to be with you again. But I want you to understand that the stakes have just gotten higher—for both of us. Because not only does my wife know about our affair, but it’s highly possible that your boyfriend does, too. Deep down inside, I think you know that the one who’s having you followed isn’t Isabel. And
that’s
what’s scaring you.”

Tamia swallowed hard, her stomach churning with dread because she knew Dominic was right.

“I have to go,” he drawled.“I was in the middle of having dinner with Isabel when you called. I told her it was a business call, but the longer I’m gone, the more suspicious she’ll become.” He paused.“I’ll be in touch soon.”

And with that, the line went dead.

Brandon stared at his glowing computer screen, fingers poised above the keyboard. For the past hour, he’d been trying to talk himself out of accessing the statewide criminal records registry.

But he’d already begun to crack open Pandora’s box. Why stop now?

Drawing a deep breath that burned, he pulled up the inmate search page and typed a name: Fiona Luke.

He pressed enter.

And then he waited, pulse thudding as the database was searched.

After what seemed an eternity, he got his answer.

No matching records found.

He stared at the computer screen until his vision blurred. And then he bowed his head and slowly exhaled.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?”

He nearly jumped out of his skin at Cynthia’s sudden appearance.

Without waiting for his consent, she strode into the office and closed the door firmly behind her.

By the time he logged out of the criminal records registry, she’d claimed one of the dark leather chairs in front of his
desk. She was visibly agitated, her arms folded across her chest and her long legs tightly crossed.

Brandon eyed her warily.“What can I do for you?”

She twisted her lips.“Not much, apparently.”

He frowned.“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I just spoke to Mitch.” She was referring to their boss, the senior partner of the firm’s litigation department. “Please tell me what the hell I did to get on your bad side.”

Impatiently Brandon began straightening papers on his desk.“It’s too damn late in the day for riddles, Cynthia. If you have something to say to me, just say it.”

“Fine,” she hissed, her eyes snapping with anger.“I was just talking to Mitch, and he explained to me that other priorities are forcing him to take even more of a backseat role in the Quasar Diagnostics trial than he’d expected. Given the sheer magnitude of the lawsuit, he recommended that you enlist one of your colleagues to be your assistant.” She paused. “You chose Todd Kessler.”

“That’s right,” Brandon calmly confirmed.

Cynthia stared at him incredulously. “Are you serious?
Kessler?
”

“Why not? He’s a good litigator. He wouldn’t be under consideration for partner if he weren’t.”

“That may be so, Brandon, but I can’t believe you’d want
him
to assist you on such an important case when you’ve always questioned his integrity and work ethic.”

Brandon tightened his jaw. “You’re upset because I didn’t choose you.”

“You’re damn right I am!” Cynthia shook her head, glaring at him.“Even Mitch was surprised by your decision. Before he left this evening, he called me into his office to ask me whether you and I were having any problems that he should be aware of. I assured him that we were cool, but maybe I should have checked with you first.
Are
we cool, Brandon?”

He scowled.“Of course we are.”

“Then why didn’t you choose me to be your assistant? I mean, I don’t get it. We’ve always made such a great team, and up until today, I
thought
we looked out for each other. But I guess I was mistaken.”

Brandon scrubbed a hand over his face, scraping bristly whiskers as he muttered darkly, “You’re blowing this way out of proportion.”

“Oh, really? So how would
you
feel if the shoe were on the other foot?” Cynthia challenged. “How would you feel if
I
were the one who’d been handed the reins of a case that most associates can only dream about litigating, the kind of case that could make or break your career? How would you feel if
I
had the opportunity to reach back and give you a helping hand, but I chose to work with another colleague I barely even liked or respected?”

He’d feel the same way
she
felt: hurt, angry, confused, and betrayed. But of course he didn’t admit that.“Look, Cynthia,” he said, tension edging his voice, “just because we’re good friends doesn’t mean we always have to work together.”

“That’s not what I’m saying!” she protested.

“Bullshit! That’s
exactly
what you’re saying, and quite frankly, I don’t appreciate it. I was asked to make a decision, and I did. If you don’t like it, that’s
your
damn problem, not mine.”

She shook her head slowly, her eyes probing his. “What’s this really about, Brandon? Do you owe Kessler a favor or something? Or is this some sort of male solidarity pact? Let me know so I won’t make the mistake of overvaluing our friendship in the future.”

Brandon glared at her. “Now you’re just being a fucking drama queen.”

She recoiled, gaping at him as if she’d never seen him be-fore.“What the hell is
wrong
with you? You’ve been acting really strange all week. Even now, looking into your eyes, it’s like you’re not even the same person. I don’t know what’s going on
with you, but whatever it is, I strongly advise you to leave that shit at home where it belongs.”

They stared each other down, two friends turned bitter adversaries.

“Are you finished?”The words were low and terse, ground out through clenched teeth.

Cynthia raised her chin.“I guess I am.”

“Good.” Brandon flashed a cold, narrow smile. “Then get the fuck out of my office.”

She flinched, blinking rapidly as tears sprang to her eyes. “Brandon—”

He deliberately turned his attention to a stack of paperwork on his desk, rudely dismissing her.

An hour later, eaten alive by guilt and frustration, he went to her office.

He didn’t bother to knock or ask if he could enter, because he knew he’d get cussed the hell out. So he just stepped inside and shut the door quietly behind him.

She was seated behind her desk, tapping furiously at her computer. Without sparing him a glance, she said coldly and succinctly,“I have nothing to say to you.”

Brandon grimaced.“Then don’t talk. Just listen.”

“You have two fucking minutes.”

“Fair enough.” He humbly approached her desk, feeling like a condemned prisoner seeking a pardon from the queen’s throne.