Damage Control

Page 69

“Keep me posted.” We end the call and I enter the garage, already dialing Mike’s office, but I hang up before I get an answer. There is more to the story with Mike Rogers than meets the eye, though the man is a damn ghost as of late. That in itself is a signal of a bigger picture. I slide into the car, and dial my mother, who doesn’t answer. I don’t leave a message. I’m not sure why I don’t leave a message. Something is bothering me that I can’t quite nail, and when I get these feelings, there is always a winning play within reach.

EMILY

The energy Brandon Senior brings to the office when he’s in poor health makes me wonder what this place must have been like when he was in his prime, and certainly explains how it became a big success. The morning plays out with him barking orders, and the phone ringing off the hook with what feels like a million questions about the board meeting, as well as me juggling yet more changing arrangements. Come noon, I try to get lunch for Brandon Senior, concerned that he refuses to eat considering his blue suit and yellow tie look like they were made for his big brother. The man is dying and I have gut-wrenching moments when I think about how soon he may be gone from this world, and Shane’s life, that always seems to trigger memories of my own father.

It’s almost time for Shane’s mother to arrive for our lunch, and I dart into Senior’s office despite him being on the phone and set the file he’s been demanding on his desk. I’m about to head back to my desk when he ends the call, and surprises me. “Is that a new dress, Ms. Stevens?”

“It is,” I say, feeling awkward about this leading to Shane, but instead he says, “About damn time. Funeral black does not suit me and that’s all you ever wore.”

He’s wrong on my wardrobe, but I say, “No black. Duly noted. Are you sure you don’t want some lunch before I leave?”

He leans back in his chair, ignoring my offer of food. “That’s right. You’re lunching with my wife today.”

“I am. I hope that’s okay?”

“As if I’d have a say in the matter. This is my Maggie we’re talking about.”

“I kind of like that she’s the only person who can get her way with you. It’s rather romantic.”

“Do you get your way with my son, Ms. Stevens?” he asks, bringing us back to the earlier conversation about my influence on Shane. “Would he drink the tea because you told him to, as I did?”

“We’re back to tea?” I ask, finding it such a weird analogy, but clearly it’s some sort of head game.

“Yes,” he confirms. “Tea. Would my son drink the tea if you told him to?”

“I don’t even know if he likes tea,” I say, trying to beat him at his own game.

“Assume he doesn’t. I sure as hell don’t.”

“I fear I am going to disappoint you, but it’s very doubtful he’d drink the tea.”

He narrows his eyes on me. “What would you have done today with Derek had I not appeared?”

“Told him my boss is an asshole and that I had to get back to my desk.”

He shocks me and laughs. “Shane would drink the tea.” He waves me off. “Now go have your lunch and get it over with. I have work for you to do.”

Really truly confused by the softer side of Brandon Senior, I wonder if it’s part of his game. A way to reel me in? Shane does call him a master. “Shut the door behind you and tell my wife I’m in a meeting.”

I exit into the exterior office to find Shane waiting on me. “I owe you this,” he says, his gray eyes warm as he indicates my coat draped over his arm, and it looks way better on him than me.

“I all but forgot it. It’s been a crazy, busy morning.”

He leans in close, the heat of his body warming me. “I like how you smell today.”

“I’ll have to remember that.”

“I like how you taste today too.”

“Shane, honey!”

At the sound of Maggie’s voice I all but jump with guilt, heat rushing to my cheeks, while Shane’s eyes light with mischief. I glower at him and quickly right my expression before we both turn to greet his mother, who is as elegant as ever in a light blue pantsuit and boots.

“Tell me you aren’t stealing my lunch date,” she says, rushing to Shane and giving him a hug.

“I wouldn’t dream of stealing your date or the time you intend to invest in scaring Emily.”

My lips part in shock, while it’s Maggie’s turn to glower. “Don’t be silly,” she says. “I don’t scare her in the least, which is part of what makes her interesting.”

“I called you this morning,” he says. “Did you forget to call me back?”

“I have no message.”

“I’m in your missed calls.”

“Oh please. No message means don’t call back. You’ll call me when you get time. Besides, I had a meeting at the Capitol this morning.” She holds up all her fingers and waves them. “That’s right. The Capitol. My interior design business is taking on a life of its own.”

“How exciting,” I say. “Are you redoing a specific part of the interior or is it a broader scale project?”

“One senator’s office,” she says, “but it’s a start.” She checks the time on her dainty diamond watch. “Shall we go? With the snow outside, we need to drive anyway, so I thought we’d go to a place a few miles away.” She points to the office door. “I should say hello to my husband quickly first though.”

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