by Davis, Alexa
"I'm not sure, yet," I sighed. "He's out of control, though."
"'So, let him have his dope," she shrugged. "I mean, what the hell, Dax? He's going to get it from someone, and you know that. Why not let him have it from a trusted source that you know supplies clean junk?"
"I feel like if I do that, then I'm killing him, Ri," I said. "But if I don't, he's going to open his big mouth and spill what he knows, and then we're all going to suffer."
"Dax, I hate to break it to you, but your brother is a junkie," she said as she looked down and examined her hands. "I know he's your brother and that you two have been through a lot together, but when are you going to stop treating him like he's a fragile little flower and face the fact that he's a junkie?"
"He's my responsibility, Ri," I said. "I'm supposed to look after him and protect him. I feel like I failed at giving him a better life."
"Oh, Jesus H. Christ, spare me the sob story, would you please?" she said in an irritated voice. "Life is fucking hard for everyone! We've all experienced some kind of tragedy or hardship, but Beck is using it to fuel his drug habit and that's all there is to it."
"Harsh, Riza," I said narrowing my eyes as I looked up at her. She was angry with me, but she was the only one who could really challenge me because she knew what we'd been through. Heck, she'd been through it with us.
"Yeah, well, someone has to smack you with the reality stick," she said as she gave me a thin smile that contained no joy. "I'm just saying, Dax. Beck is so far gone in his addiction that there's no getting him back right now. He's either going to OD or he's going to see the light and clean himself up. And right now, I'm wagering on the former."
"But what if I can do something to save him from himself?"
"Dax, seriously man, you should know this by now," she said shaking her head. "You can't save anyone. They have to want to save themselves. Haven't you learned anything during our journey?"
I ran my hand through my hair as I exhaled loudly and shook my head. She was right. For a while after Papi had died, Riza had descended into the world of drug-induced comfort. I'd pulled her off the street more times than I could count, but it wasn't until she made the choice to get clean that she came to me and asked if I'd put her in rehab. I still had no idea what had sparked the change, but I kept asking on occasion, hoping that it would provide the key I needed to help Beck get clean.
"What made you decide to get clean?" I asked.
"C'mon man, we've been through this song and dance a hundred times," she said. "You know I don't talk about that shit."
"I'm serious, Riza," I implored her. "Maybe there's something about your experience that will make a difference for Beck."
"If that's the case, then he needs to ask me about it," she said. "I'm not gonna tell you and have you try to relay it to your junkie brother in the hope that you'll somehow save him."
"Then you tell him!" I shouted. "Dammit, Riza! We have to do something! He's slipping away and, in the process, he's trying to take us down with him!"
She sat across from me staring down at the desk for a long time before she looked up and smiled. She nodded and then stood up.
"I’ll find him and see what I can do to talk some sense into him," she finally said. "No promises, but I'll give it my best shot. And if I can't..."
"If you can't, you know what has to be done," I said meeting her gaze. "I want to save him, Ri, I really do, but if I can't, then I'm not going to have him taking down the organization on his way out."
"Consider it done, boss," she said with a nod and turned to leave.
I sighed as I rubbed the stubble on my jaw and wondered why everything felt like it was coming apart at the seams right now. First it was Lydia, and now Beck and the business. At least I had dinner with Brooke to look forward to tonight. I looked down at my watch and realized I'd better get moving if I was going to make it to her place on time.
"Can just one thing please go smoothly?" I said to the empty room as I walked out the door and down the stairs.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Brooke
I'd spent the afternoon making calls to see if I could get a meeting with either Mr. Grant or Mr. Bloomberg. Their assistants both politely told me that they were not accepting calls from law firms at this time, but if that changed they'd be sure to let me know. I knew these were lies, but I thanked them and then hung up cursing these gatekeepers who were thwarting my attempts to drum up new business. At least I still had dinner with Dax on the agenda tonight.
I wrapped up my business at the office by early afternoon and headed back to my apartment to get ready for my date with Dax. The plan for bringing new clients into the firm had now shifted this date from pure pleasure to something that I wasn't entirely comfortable with, but I'd promised to pull my weight and approach him. I just wasn't sure how I'd do it, yet.
I stopped by my favorite boutique just around the corner from the office and picked out a new outfit for tonight's date. I'd tried on several different dresses before I settled on a melon-colored sleeveless asymmetrical dress that hugged my curves and showed just enough skin to be sexy without being trashy. I paid for the dress and then headed home to shower and get ready.
As I entered the lobby of my building, Fred called to me, "Miss Raines! Miss Raines! You've got a delivery here. Do you want to take it or shall I have it brought up?"
"Oh? What is it, Fred?" I asked.
"No idea, it's a box, but it's not too heavy," he said.
I looked down at the packages I was carrying and said, "Can you tuck it under my arm, Fred? I've got my hands full at the moment."
"No problem, Miss Raines," the doorman said as he brought the long white box over and slipped it under my arm.
"Thanks, Fred, you're a peach!" I called as I stepped onto the elevator and pressed the button for my floor.
Once I'd made it inside my apartment, I set the package on the kitchen counter and began getting ready for dinner. I ran a tub full of hot water and added a healthy squirt of my favorite lavender bubble bath before sinking down in the warm water and trying to relax.
My mind spun with all of the things I was supposed to remember to do tonight, and they collided with what my body wanted to be doing with Mr. Malone after dinner. I sunk lower in the water as I felt my blood begin to flow hot in my veins and an aching pressure begin to build between my legs.
There was something dangerous about Dax Malone, but there was also a kind of vulnerability that made him even more attractive. It didn't hurt that this was all wrapped up in an outer package that was so unbelievably sexy. I shook my head and made myself stop thinking of him in a sexual way. I had to focus on finding out whether or not he'd be willing to hire our firm to represent him now that Lydia was gone. That was my one job, and I couldn't afford to screw this up.
I'd just finished drying off and had wrapped my fluffy robe around me when I remembered the box on the counter. I walked into the kitchen and smiled as I recognized it as being from one of the places that my dad often used to send flowers to my mother or me. I grabbed a pair of kitchen shears and cut the twine on the box and pulled off the lid. I gasped when I saw the gorgeous arrangement lying tucked under layers of thin tissue paper. It was a mixture of deep blue irises, violet and purple peonies and baby blue hydrangeas. The note tucked in between the stems read: Looking forward to seeing your beautiful blue eyes, and the rest of you, again tonight. - DM
I smiled and blushed a little as I pulled the stems out of the box and carefully arranged them in a crystal vase. So, Dax Malone was thinking about me as much as I was thinking about him. This was a good sign, but it also made things much more complex. We were going on a date, but I was also going on a fishing trip.
"Please just let this be easy, just once let something be easy," I whispered as I leaned in and inhaled the fragrant scent of the blossoms.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Dax
"Damn, you clean up good, Dax!" Kesha whistled as I walked into the empty club after h
aving gone home to get ready for my date with Brooke.
"Thanks, K," I smiled. I'd spent a long time wondering what would impress Brooke the most before finally deciding that if I felt like I had to impress her, I was barking up the wrong tree. I settled on a variation of my daily uniform – black pants, black dress shirt, and a grey sport coat and, of course, my Harley boots. I refused to wear ties or change my footwear to meet any dress codes. If a place didn't let me in, then it was an indication that I was in the wrong place and I left.
"She must be a special woman," Kesha observed as she swept her eyes from head to toe.
"What makes you say that?"
"You ditched the leather jacket," she said with a wiseass grin. "You never ditch that unless it's a funeral or an important chick."
"Good catch, but she's just some chick I met last night," I said trying to maintain a cool exterior. "She's a lawyer, though, so I thought I'd better dress it up a bit."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, tell it to the judge," Kesha laughed as she checked the bottles behind the bar against the list on her clipboard. "Hey, boss, I've noticed that we have a slight discrepancy between what I'm counting and what the inventory list says we're supposed to have."
"Oh, how so? How much are you short?"
"That's the weird thing, I'm not short," she said as she looked down at the list. "I'm coming up with more bottles on the floor than we got in the shipment. What the hell?"
"That can't be right," I said. "Are you sure you accounted for the breakage? I know we had some bottles smashed in that accident down in storage."
"No, I counted those when it happened," she said shaking her head. "I'm gonna do another count and see what I get. This just doesn't make any damn sense."
"Alright, well, I'm sure it's just a user error," I grinned as I checked my watch.
"Aww, fuck you, man, you know I have a degree in statistics!" she laughed as she squatted down behind the bar and started counting again.
"I'm off, let me know what happens," I said before adding, "Oh, and K?"
"Yeah, boss?" came the voice from behind the bar.
"I'm probably not gonna be back here tonight," I said. "Just saying."
"Gotcha, boss," she yelled. "I've got the place on lock down tonight!"
#
I pulled up in front of the address Brooke had given me at precisely eight o'clock. I parked my car in the circular drive and went inside to ask the doorman to let Brooke know I was waiting.
"I'm sorry, sir," he said after holding on the phone for quiet a while. "There's no answer in Miss Raines' residence."
Just then, the elevator doors slid open and out stepped Brooke. The doorman and I both inhaled sharply as she crossed the lobby floor. She was wearing an orangish dress that cut across her voluptuous body at an angle and revealed quite a bit of thigh on one side. The dress clung to her generous curves and reminded me of why I was so deeply attracted to full-bodied women. Her golden blond hair was loosely curled and fell in messy waves around her face, which looked like it had been lightly kissed by the sun. I could feel the blood rushing down between my legs and knew that I had to quickly get a handle on the situation or I'd have some explaining to do.
"You look amazing, Miss Raines," the doorman called as she glided across the floor.
"Thank you, Fred," she smiled as she drew nearer and held my gaze. "And you, Mr. Malone? What do you think?"
"You'll do," I said with a grin. "You clean up good, lady."
"You're not so bad yourself," she grinned back. "Nice pants."
"I thought you'd like these," I smiled. "You hungry?"
"Starving," she nodded. "I haven't eaten all day and it's been a busy one."
"Well, then we'd better get you some food before you attack," I said offering my arm. "Shall we?"
"Indeed, we shall," she nodded as she bit her lip to keep from laughing and took my arm. "See you later, Fred!"
"Have a nice evening, Miss Raines," he called as the desk phone began ringing.
We walked out to the drive and when I led her to the black Mercedes convertible, she let out a low wolf whistle and said, "Whoa, you drive a nice car!"
"This? Aw, it's nothing," I said as I opened the door and helped her into the passenger seat. "I got it at a yard sale. Half price."
I could hear her laughing as I walked around the car and got in. I felt the phone start vibrating in my pocket and when I pulled it out and looked at it I saw that it was Kesha, I looked over at Brooke and said, " I have to take this." She nodded, and I stepped out of the car and answered the call. "What's up?"
"Boss, I redid the count and found the same thing, more bottles than we had delivered," Kesha said.
"Okay, well, there's nothing I can do about it at the moment. So hang on to the list, and we'll talk when I get back," I said irritated that she'd interrupted my date with Brooke for this, but knowing that I'd told her to.
I climbed back into the driver's seat and said, "Sorry about that. Work. You look absolutely stunning, Brooke."
"Aw, this old thing?" she grinned. "I got it half price in a yard sale as a consolation prize."
It was my turn to laugh loudly as I turned the key and started the ignition, and we were off.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Brooke
We flew up the 101 in Dax's sleek convertible laughing and talking about California living and growing up on the south side of Los Angeles. Dax didn't give too many specifics about his childhood, but then neither did I, so I figured we were both just settling into getting to know each other.
He'd made reservations at Beso on Hollywood Boulevard, and when we got there the hostess quickly seated us in a private booth at the back of the dining area. I raised an eyebrow at the royal treatment, but he just waved me off and laughed about them mistaking him for someone famous.
"You must get that a lot, then," I laughed.
"Yeah, sometimes," he said somewhat seriously. "It's just that when you own a club in Los Angeles, everyone wants to know you, and then you have to be friendly and open about it on some level. It's like being a celebrity, but without the benefits."
"I'd never thought of it that way," I said as I scanned the menu. I really was hungry, but I didn't want to stuff myself the way I would have if I'd been down at the Long Island Diner on Main digging into a plate of mashed potatoes and meatloaf. "What are you having?"
"Steak and potatoes," he grinned. "I'm a meat man, I like thick and juicy cuts."
"Are we still talking about dinner?" I asked with a half grin.
"I don't know, are we?" he said as he looked at me in a way that made my pulse start racing. He had to be one of the sexiest men I'd ever met, and I wasn't sure if he knew the effect he was having on me. I looked back down at my menu and decided that I'd have steak and potatoes as well.
"I believe we are," I smiled. "I'm going to have the same thing. Medium rare, please."
The server came over and poured two glasses of cabernet and Dax offered a toast, "Here's to fortuitous meetings and tipsy women who agree to dinner."
"You're quite a toast maker, Malone," I laughed. "Where did you learn that skill?"
"Ahh, the background grilling," he grinned. "You're going to dig into my formative years and figure out where I came from and how I became who I am."
"No, I'm just going to figure out what's true and what's fiction," I replied as I sipped my wine, then grinning over the edge of my glass I said, "I'm a lawyer not a shrink."
"Brooke, you are a piece of work," he chortled as he met my gaze and sipped from his glass. I couldn't help but watch his lips curl around the rim of the glass and wonder what they'd feel like pressed against my own. My heart fluttered in my chest as I pictured his hands slipping into my hair and holding my head as he kissed me hard and deep. "Brooke?"
"I'm sorry, what?" I said flustered at being caught in an unplanned daydream. I was going to have to control my baser impulses if I was going to get anywhere with Dax.
"I was asking where you we
nt to law school," he said.
"Oh, I went to UCLA for both undergrad and my J.D.," I replied.
"And?" he asked.
"And what?"
"And how did you get interested in law? Are your parents lawyers?" he asked patiently. I felt so exposed. Like he knew what effect he was having on me and was playing it to his advantage. I needed to channel my lawyer persona and get back in the game.
"No, my dad is a reporter for the Times and my mom is a high school math teacher at Lincoln," I said. "I'm not sure how I got interested in the law, honestly. It just seemed like the right thing to do. I'd always been a kid who fought for justice."
"Oh, so a real Cesar Chavez, eh?"
"Hardly," I laughed. "I'm not good at the field work, I have no patience for injustice at that level and I always end up fighting until I get myself in trouble."
"You got in trouble? I can't even imagine," he said.
"Oh God, I think one of the reasons I went into law was because my dad asked me to stop calling him to bail me out of jail," I said. "I'd go to a protest and even when the tactic was to protest in silence, I'd end up speaking out and sassing a police officer or a government official, and someone would eventually identify me as the instigator and I'd get hauled away."
"So, you're saying you have a bit of a temper?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.
"I wouldn't say I have a temper, per se," I explained. "I'd say that I have a very sensitive trigger button, and that I don't have a good poker face. My mom always said that if I could have kept my expressions blank and my thoughts to myself, I'd have done great things in the protest movement."
"Sensitive trigger button, eh?" he raised and eyebrow. "Are we still talking about injustice?"
"Very funny, Mr. Malone," I said as I watched the server place an enormous plate of meat and perfectly sculpted mashed potatoes down in front of me. The smell of the perfectly charred meat made my mouth water.