I don’t wanna be a product of my environment. I want my environment to be a product of me.
—Frank Costello
CHAPTER NINE
SHANE
I watch Emily round the corner, adrenaline coursing through me like liquid fire and acid, and I slowly become aware of Seth and Jessica staring at me. Forcefully, I shift my attention to them, Seth is arching a brow at me while Jessica stands at her desk, holding on to it and looking confused and concerned. Obviously, I haven’t been discreet and I have no option but to offer an explanation. “She found herself inserted between me and my father,” I explain, and I’m really damn ready to know the details.
“Oh no,” Jessica says. “Shane, she’s new and I promised to help her learn her boundaries.”
“A little late for that, I’d say.” I’d laugh at the irony of that statement if every muscle in my body wasn’t clenched thanks to the scent of Emily’s perfume clinging to my clothes.
“Should I—” she begins.
“No,” I supply. “My father wants his deal memo. Tell him I read it and he can go fuck himself.”
She blanched. “Shane, not even I can—”
“Tell him I’m still reviewing it.” I motion to Seth and walk into my office, making a beeline for the window, where I stand, arms crossed, and will the adrenaline coursing through me to calm the fuck down.
Silent seconds tick by, and I can feel Seth at my back, just as I can feel Emily’s presence in this building, like she were standing right here next to me.
“What just happened?” Seth asks.
Yes. What the hell just happened? I’ve made a career out of reading people, and I don’t know how I got it wrong with Emily—unless I didn’t get it wrong and I was just a total dick. Whatever the case, there is too much on the line for me to be a fool with this woman, and yet, when I turn to face Seth, I go another direction. “I went to see the ‘other woman,’ as you called her. I offered her double what my mother’s paying her to give us the same information she’s giving my mother, but my mother isn’t to know.”
“What’s to stop Derek from doing the same?”
“I told her I’d ruin her medical career. She’s expecting your call.”
His eyes sharpen. “Gloves off. Now we’re playing like New Yorkers. Good thing.” He lifts a folder. “You aren’t going to like this.”
“Just get to it,” I snap irritably. “I can do without any more dramatics today.”
He drops the folder on my desk and flips it open to yet another photo of my brother, this time with a very young, pretty, dark-haired woman. “Teresa Martina,” he says. “He’s quite friendly with her.”
“And I care why?”
“Because she’s the daughter of Roberto Martina, the kingpin for one of the largest cartels in existence. And while Roberto favors Mexico, her brother Adrian runs the U.S. operations from right here in Denver.”
Anger rips through me and I press my fists to the desk. “Has he dragged the BP division into the cartel?”
“He has a relationship with Adrian, though I don’t yet know the extent.”
“In other words, if he hasn’t, he’s working on it. He has to have someone inside BP involved in this.”
“Agreed,” Seth says, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “William Nichols, your head of research and development, had some activity on the surveillance footage I find of interest, but nothing I can say is related to this.”
“What kind of activity?”
“Taking calls outside while pacing and appearing on edge, but the man could be going through something personal. We’re putting him under watch.”
“I know this security team we’ve hired signed the contracts I drew up, but make damn sure they aren’t for sale to the highest bidder.”
“I know the owner personally. I promise you. We’re golden.” He narrows his gaze on me. “You don’t just walk away from a cartel, Shane. I dealt with these people when I was with the CIA. And if that’s where we’re at, our problems are far bigger than the police.”
“I’m aware of that.” I push off the desk and turn to the window, unbuttoning my jacket and settling my hands on my hips. Seth joins me, both of us staring at the thick, black clouds. “What I don’t understand,” I say, “is how the hell Derek doesn’t.” My mind tracks back to my father’s office yesterday. “Derek made a point of reminding me that BP is my acquisition and I’m linked to anything that happens there.”
“A threat,” Seth says wryly, leaning a shoulder on the steel beam running along the window. “You could walk away, Shane. Get the hell out of here.”
“If I do that, my father and brother will end up dead. And my mother could end up collateral damage.”
“What about you? What happens when they ruin your life?”
“I’ll take my chances.” I turn to face him, hands still on my hips. “At this point, we don’t know anything. Derek aspiring to work with the Martina family, and doing it, are two different things. And as much as I’d like to take the direct approach and bulldoze him for answers, he won’t be honest and it will only alert anyone who might be helping him to stay off our radar.”
Seth gives me a disapproving look. “There are a lot of things I could say to you right now, but I won’t.”
“Good decision.” I glance at my desk where the envelope Jessica brought me lies, realization coming with cold, hard clarity. “Son of a bitch. My father just gave me the proposed paperwork for an investment that’s an obvious cover for a payoff.”
“That Nina person,” Seth assumes.
“Yes. That Nina person, who left the trucking division abruptly a month ago and is suddenly worth the hundred and fifty thousand dollar investment my father wants to make.”
“And the trucking company is a perfect target for running drugs. It would be easy to come to the conclusion there’s already activity happening there.”
“Whether there is or not, if we are thinking about this, then Martina will be thinking about this.” I scrub my jaw. “I need to shed that division.”
“Not only will that send up red flags to your brother, and your father if he’s involved, but it’ll risk a potential riff with Martina that you don’t want to go into blindly, if at all.”
“Which means I need to control them instead.”
He reaches into his pocket and offers me a flash drive. “That has enough damning information on Riker Ward, the CEO of that division, to do that and more. It also has equally invasive information on the rest of the board, aside from Mike, and therefore, offers you the power to command them all.”
“Unless my brother, or father, beat me to the punch,” I say, accepting it.
“Derek’s too busy paying everyone off to know how to really control them.”
“Don’t underestimate Derek, and since my father handled this payoff for the trucking division, I lean toward his involvement. And he is all about control. Which brings me back to my questions about Mike. But the highest priority right now is finding out if we’re already in bed with Martina.”
“Which, in turn, brings me back to the transportation division. Send me to Boulder, and I promise you, with the dirt I have on Riker, he’ll tell us exactly what’s going on up there and what that payoff is for as well.”
I lift the flash drive. “Spare me the reading time,” I say, placing it in my pocket. “What’s the dirt you’re referencing?”
“Riker’s gay,” he says. “Which wouldn’t be a problem except for a few important details. He’s not only in the closet, he’s married to a woman, has three kids with her, and a father who’s a conservative politician. And yes, I have proof. The man is in bed with so many men I wonder how his wife doesn’t know. And before you ask, I’m thorough. She doesn’t.”
I suck in a breath and let it out. “I don’t want to be the person that screws up this family’s life.”
“He’ll never let me tell her,” he assures me. “And I wouldn’t without your approval anyway. You know that. But for the record, this family’s life is already screwed up and it’s fucked up that they don’t know it.”
I hesitate all of two seconds. “Do it.” The truth is, my fleeting moment of guilt was wasted on a man who revels in breaking the law.
“I’ll leave tonight then,” Seth replies. “Right after I pay the ‘other woman’ a visit.” He motions to the desk. “Need me to do anything about Nina?”
“I have it handled.”
Still he doesn’t leave, an expectant few beats of silence passing before he asks, “Anything else?”
Translation. He wants to know about Emily, and while I have every reason to get him digging around about her, somewhere in the middle of this conversation, I’ve decided I’m not done with her myself quite yet. “Nothing,” I say.
He narrows his gaze a moment, clearly weighing my reply. “Very well,” he says, heading for the door.
“Don’t shut it,” I call after him, grabbing the envelope with the deal memo and staring down at it, clear on how to handle it, but Emily is another matter. Creating a distraction to keep me from finding the Martina connection would be smart. And yet, I’m foolish enough to want to believe Emily is telling me the truth. She’s either the only woman who’s ever rocked my world, or she’s a source of information I can, and will, use.
I round the desk and the instant I’m out the door, Jessica says, “Your father—”
“Handled,” I say, and I don’t stop walking, passing my brother’s closed door and dark office before cutting down the hallway and through the lobby, where Kelly is greeting a visitor I don’t know.
Continuing on, I enter the next hallway to my father’s office, not sure if I should expect to be requesting Emily’s phone number through human resources after visiting with my father or if I’ll find her still present and accounted for. I round the corner, bringing the empty desk in front of my father’s office into view, and the idea that Emily’s run again is actually a relief. If she was a game piece my father and/or brother placed in an attempt to distract me, or throw me off my game, she’d still be here.
I walk to my father’s open office door and enter, finding him behind his desk on the phone. I shut the door and he glances up. “I’ll call you back,” he says to whoever is on the line, clearly not waiting on a reply before hanging up to direct his, “About damn time,” at me.
Stopping in front of his desk, I toss the envelope down as I had the photo of Derek and the FDA inspector. “I know that’s a payoff.” I know I can’t cave too easily or he’ll suspect something is wrong. “Which is exactly why you asked me to bring it to you on a thumb drive or hard copy. You didn’t want it proof of our file transfer. What’s it for?”
He leans back in his seat. “Must you always try to prove why you earned that Harvard law degree?”
“You expected me to be the best and I am,” I reply. Pushing for any piece of information I can get, I ask, “What does Nina Thompson know that she shouldn’t?”
“Does it matter?” It’s my turn to offer a deadpan look, and after two beats he scowls and snaps, “Riker had an affair with Nina. When he tried to break it off, she threatened to go to his wife.”
Riker, who is gay, had an affair with his female employee? I’d laugh at the blatant lie if I wasn’t concerned about what’s really going on, and how my father’s involved. “Why didn’t you just tell me that?”
“Your skills are better used for bigger things. I handled it. Like I always do.”
Like he handled the Feds, but I let it go, pushing for a way inside this deal’s origin instead. “If I call Nina’s lawyer, what will I hear?”
“I convinced her not to hire a lawyer.”
Of course he did. “If I call her, then?”
“What do you think?”
I consider him. “I’ll pay her off. Consider it handled.”
“I’ll deal with the conclusion of the agreement.”
“Part of my employment contract requires my signature on all legal agreements. I’ll handle it.”
“Not this time,” he says, his tone absolute. “Riker’s a friend and he’s worried about his family.”
I shake my head at the absurdity of him having friends. “Of course, Father, and fucking around on his wife certainly proves that concern.” I pick up the envelope. “An investment is the wrong packaging for a gag deal. I’ll rework it and you’ll have your contract by morning.”
I turn and walk away to hear him growl into his intercom, “Come to my office, Emily.”
Tension ripples down my spine and I open the door to come face-to-face with my sweet-smelling potential liar. She physically flinches at our standoff, a reaction that hits me in a variety of ways. One: She’s fucking gorgeous and I still want her. Two: No one trying to rattle me would be this rattled by me—not unless she’s a good enough actor to fool someone who makes a living reading people.
“Shane,” she says. “I mean … Mr. Brandon.”
I step to her. “Not ‘asshole’?”
Her cheeks heat. “That would be unprofessional and I’m trying hard not to get fired. Unless you just made that happen.”
“In other words,” I say, “calling me an asshole is an appropriate term. Just not at the office.”
“I plead the fifth. I’m not incriminating myself to a man who could fire me.”
“A little too late for that, sweetheart.” I step around her.
“No,” she says from behind me and when I face her she steps closer, lowering her voice. “I didn’t know who you were and no matter how many ways you infer, or say I did, it still won’t be true. And I’m not your sweetheart, Mr. Brandon.” She whirls around and charges into my father’s office.
I stand there, fighting the urge to go after her. Whether she is telling the truth or not, there is one thing for sure. It’s game on, and if I win, she’ll be telling the truth and back in my bed, where I most definitely want her. If I lose, she’s lying, but she’s still ending up back in my bed.
EMILY
Trying to garner some semblance of control, I make a mental list I don’t dare write down, deciding a number of things quickly. Number one: I don’t have the luxury to leave this job if I’m not fired. Number two: In order to survive in the middle of a company, and a family, at war, I can’t be the gazelle outside the lion’s office. I have to be me, the real me that my nightmare of a secret has suppressed, and that means holding my own with all of the Brandon men. It’s a task I take on with Brandon Senior, from the moment he barks his first order and I spout back with knowledge, not fear, an act that earns me a long, hard glower, before respect flints through his stare.
By six thirty, only a half hour before Shane’s demand that I meet him in the garage, I’ve continued to hold my own with my new boss. On the other hand, I’m concerned that meeting his son, who had me naked and submissive last night, in private, isn’t the best way for me to keep my job. The intercom buzzes for about the twentieth time this afternoon and Brandon Senior barks, “I need that document I asked for before you leave.”
“Finishing it now,” I assure him, only to glance up in shock to discover Shane’s brother has snuck up on me and is standing in front of my desk.
He leans forward, resting his palms on my desk, his eyes the same gray as Shane’s, but his are cold and cunning while Shane’s are intelligent and calculating. “Yet another new secretary,” he observes.
The many ways I don’t care for that description are too many to count. “And you’re Derek Brandon.”
“And you know this how?” he asks, a predatory tone to the question that reaches beyond its simplicity and is meant to intimidate me.
“Because,” I say, stamping the paper in front of me to assure him he does not have my full attention, “I’ve met your brother and you look like your father.”
His reply is a long, intense stare, another attempt to stir unease in me because he clearly thinks I’m the gazelle outside the lion’s office. I laugh after a few beats. “Do you not like to be told you look like your father?” And before I can stop myself I say, “Would you rather I say you look like your brother? Or do you prefer to hear that he looks like you?”
I’ve earned an instant scowl and he shoves off my desk as if pushed. “Good luck with the job. I hear there’s a betting pool for how many days you’ll last.” And with that fear-mongering remark, he walks into his father’s office. And that’s when my skin prickles and I feel Shane before I even see him.
My gaze jerks to the hall, and there he is, far better looking and intimidating than Derek could ever hope to be, leaning on the wall, just watching me, his expression all hard lines and shadows. Seconds tick by like hours in which I wonder if he thinks me still being here is a sign of guilt rather than necessity. I wonder if he knows his concern over my possible betrayal made him act like the true spawn of his father. Or maybe it wasn’t acting at all? Worse, I wonder if he thinks the way Derek was leaning over my desk infers intimacy and my guilt. Another couple of seconds pass by, and he turns and walks away, and I swear he takes all of the air in the room with him.
I shake myself, my decision about tonight’s meeting made. Grabbing the Rolodex, I find Shane’s number, surprised his cell phone is on the card, and I key it into my phone. Next I grab the file on my desk and walk toward the office, only to have the door shut, but I still hear Derek say, “I told you Shane would buy the Nina Thompson story.”
I grimace and turn away, walking to the desk and punching the intercom. “Yes, Ms. Stevens?”
“I have your document. Shall I bring it into you for your review?”
“Leave it on your desk.”
My list for the day complete, I ask, “Do you need anything else before I leave?”
“Just an answer to a question.”
“Of course.”
“How many days?”
I blink and then I grimace at what I know is a reference to my conversation with Derek. “However long I stay,” I reply, “won’t be determined by an office bet or by delicate sensibilities I don’t have.”
There is silence. And more silence before he says, “Good night, Ms. Stevens.”
I pop to my feet and grab my purse, shoving it over my head and across my body and all but run through the now dark lobby. Punching the elevator call button about ten times, I will it to produce a car. The door to the offices opens and that prickling sensation is almost instantaneous. I whirl around and he is walking toward me, and why, why, why, does he have to be so stunningly male when he was so stunningly an asshole.
I lift my chin, refusing to be that gazelle. He takes his time, torturing me with his approach, until he towers over me, too close. So very close, and I can smell him, all spicy, and masculine, wonderful, in the way that he defines and owns. I can almost feel him. That is how much, despite him being an asshole today, I want this man.
“Running again?” he asks softly, his voice a low, raspy taunt that somehow still manages to be a seduction.
“I’m not running. And I’m not quitting a job that pays double what it should to compensate me for tolerating your father. I was going to call you when I got downstairs.”
“Call me how? I’m not at my desk.”
“Your cell phone number was in the Rolodex. I was going to tell you I can’t meet you someplace private.”
“Why?”
“Because you think I slept with you for the wrong reasons and therefore you think I’ll do it again.”
“Why did you sleep with me?”
“I told you my reasons last night.”
“Tell me again,” he orders.
“No.”
He arches a brow. “No?”
“No,” I repeat firmly.
“How do I know this isn’t a game?”
“If this is a game, I’m losing. Fire me if you’re going to fire me, Shane.”
“I’m not going to fire you.”
“Does that mean you’re the one playing games?”
“I don’t play games, but we both know you’re in some kind of trouble.”
“You’re my trouble,” I say defensively. “You’re the one who has me fearing I’ll lose this job.”
“And people in trouble,” he says, as if I haven’t spoken, “make mistakes. But I wasn’t a mistake.”
My throat goes dry. “If you’re saying I knew who you were, I told you, I didn’t know.”
“That’s not—”
The door behind Shane opens and my gaze lifts and jerks back to Shane’s. “Your brother,” I warn softly, quickly putting two steps between us.
“Tell my father,” Shane says instantly, as if we’re holding a conversation we weren’t, “nothing has changed. I said the contract will be ready in the morning and it will be.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Brandon,” I improvise. “He’s just pushing me to get it right away.” The elevator doors open. “Thank you again,” I say and quickly dart inside the car.
Turning, I face forward and find myself pinned by Shane’s intense steely gray stare, the connection jolting me. There is something going on between me and this man. Something I don’t understand. And that is my last thought before Derek steps to the side and the doors shut. It’s over. Shane is gone. I slump against the wall, unsure of what just happened. I have my job but absolutely no clue if Shane still believes I’ve betrayed him. He said that sleeping with him wasn’t a mistake. He never said he was sorry or wrong about anything that happened in his office. So there is my answer. He believes I betrayed him and he is playing games with me.