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Damage Control



Disappointed, I shove it back in my pocket, and shut the car, locking the doors. “Holy Rocky Balboa, are you driving the Bentley?” I turn to find Jessica rushing toward me, her spiky blond hair a tad lighter today, her black pantsuit stylish and sleek. “How did you convince him to let you drive it?” she asks, falling into step with me as we head toward the elevator. “He won’t let me drive it.”

“He shoved the keys at me and told me to take it. There was some man in a black SUV who showed up in the private part of the Four Seasons parking garage.” I punch the call button for the elevator and it opens right away. “Do you know who that was?”

“I have no idea,” she says as we step into the car, “but most likely one of Seth’s people working for Shane. Have you ever driven the Bentley before?”

“Forget the Bentley,” I snap.

“I have a point here, honey, sweetie, cranky. If you’ve never driven it and he shoved the keys at you—that tells you how much he wanted you away from that meeting.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I’ve never driven the Bentley before.”

“Then whoever it was is a problem.”

The doors open and we enter the lobby, heading toward the main elevator. “I’m really worried about this war he has with his brother.”

“There’s a lot to be worried about,” she says as we reach the elevator bank. She punches the button herself this time.

I glower at her and the car opens, thankfully empty. “Thanks for making me feel better,” I say, as she keys in the twenty-fifth floor.

“Honey, I’m not Dr. Phil and I don’t pretend to be. I’m more Judge Judy. Right to the point.”

“And kind of judgmental,” I add, thinking of her lecturing me about hurting Shane sometime back, as if I would do so on purpose.

“Just a little,” she replies, holding up two fingers, and apparently completely unapologetic, which is actually fine. It’s her knowing herself and owning it. It’s honest, like Seth last night. I’m seeing a trend. I’m the only one in his life close to him that’s lied to him. No matter my reasons, that’s going to take time to completely erase. I refocus on Jessica.

“What can I do to help him?”

She holds up her hands. “Me pushing you to dive into troubled waters will get me in hot water.”

“I’m serious. He has to win, Jessica. We both have to do what we can to help him. What does he need most to win this war?”

“What he needs most is to be back in New York practicing law. He loved it.”

“And yet he’s here,” I say, realizing now that we have even more in common than I thought. We’re both here. We’re both not practicing law. And that choice was made for both of us by our families. No wonder we connected so quickly.

“Yes. He’s here and he’s not going anywhere, so you’re right. He has to win.”

“Which means I have to keep my job at his father’s door today.”

“Why today? Is Senior more of an ass than normal?” She cringes. “I occasionally feel sorry for saying things like that since he’s dying, but then he does something new and freshly brutal and I say it again.”

“He saw Shane and I together last night getting off the private elevators at the Four Seasons. It’s pretty obvious I’d only be there for one reason.”

“So you now look like the office slut and Shane is the brother who banged the woman in front of his father’s door.”

“Can you not be you at this very moment and say stuff like that?”

“Judge Judy, honey. You’re now part of the game. You won’t get fired.”

“That’s exactly what Shane said and if that’s true, I can still use my position to help Shane. Brandon Senior is doing something weird with the hedge fund he’s putting together and I don’t know enough about this type of thing to figure it out.”

“What are you thinking?”

“Mike. The one who owns the professional basketball team and who is a huge stockholder. I don’t know if he knows it’s dirty, but I think he is, and that means he’d be on Derek’s team, not Shane’s.”

“Are you sure? Because I really wanted that man to be the father of my children.”

“I’m not sure. Maybe he doesn’t know what Senior is up to, but they have been communicating often. Jessica, what if Brandon Senior isn’t really letting Shane have a shot at the company? What if this game has already ended?”

“A stacked deck maybe, but Senior knows Shane is savvy. You know this, Emily. Nothing is done until it’s done.” The elevator dings. “But you do need to share your concerns about Mike with Shane.”

“I will,” I say as we step into the lobby, my gaze catching on the Brandon Enterprises logo on the wall, the lion emblem reminding me of Shane’s tattoo: a lion, which represents his father, with an eagle with spread wings representing Shane, perched on the lion’s head. He confessed getting it one night when he was drunk. Knowing him better now, Shane doing anything while drunk and driven by emotion doesn’t fit him, and I wonder what was in his head that night. What had pushed him to a place he doesn’t go?

“Did you hear me?” Jessica asks.

“What?” I say, blinking her back into view and realizing I’m standing and staring at the wall, not walking.
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