Meanwhile, Billie compounded her messed-up personal life by placing her career, which was promising and successful, in the gutter as well. She’d been so excited last year when she’d gotten her first pro bono case through the prestigious big law firm that she worked at. It brought back her days of being a public defender just out of law school—days she had to leave behind for a job that paid the bills her divorce had left her.
Why did her first client have to be the seductive and handsome Ricky Williams? He’d flirted with her from day one—and she hadn’t discouraged it as much as she should have. She knew it was an ethical disaster, but she assumed she had the willpower to resist the man who reminded her so much of the father she’d loved and lost. Not to mention the fact that she was passionate about defending him against the local housing authority, which was using its power to steal the property that he used as a shelter for immigrants, who were seeking asylum, in order to shut it down.
She’d won her case and Ricky was able to keep his shelter. In the meantime, she’d allowed her emotions to get the best of her and had slept with him. This was just before she found out that he was involved in local gang and drug activity. It was an ugly situation, only made uglier by her impropriety.
She had a chance to walk away from this clean, if she never told her bosses. She’d told her best friends, her girls, Sherise and Erica, of course. She told them everything. They had both encouraged her to thank God that she’d won the case and Ricky was on his way to jail. Although Billie couldn’t reveal what she’d known about him, the district attorney’s office was able to turn one of his drug mules against him.
With him out of the way, Billie would keep her mouth shut; and if Ricky said anything, she could always deny it. But that wasn’t who Billie was. She couldn’t keep lies and secrets. She knew what was right and what was wrong, and she needed to sleep at night. She was a lawyer who knew she had a moral, ethical, and legal obligation to tell her bosses. So she did.
She wasn’t fired and she wasn’t disbarred, but she was reprimanded. Her standing at the firm was never going to be the same. Once she’d come on, they had all thought Billie would be a partner there, but there was no chance of that now. Just going to work every day was painful for her—embarrassing. She’d lost respect and trust; and it was clear to her that it would take a very long time, if even that, to gain those back. So she did what she’d assumed her bosses had hoped she would do and quit.
It had been pretty difficult for her since then. She was taking on contract work and ad hoc public defense cases. Public defense cases paid about $1,200 each. The few bright spots were some old friends from law school whom she’d kept in touch with, like Lane, who hired her for high-paying jobs. She’d just completed an arbitration agreement for his financial services company, Agencis.
“I can look after my own figure,” Billie said. “You wanna help me out, just hire me again. That sounds like a better deal.”
“Well, you did great work,” Lane said. “They signed the agreement right away. Can’t really calculate how much you’ll save us if anything comes up and we can avoid court.”
“It was easy,” Billie said confidently. “I’ve been either fighting or enforcing arbitration agreements for quite a few years now.”
“It shows.” There was a short pause as he leaned back in his chair. He brushed his expensively tailored suit with his napkin before setting it down. “Just how much work do you have now, Billie?”
Never let them see you sweat. Billie knew that. She finished the sip of her lemonade and smiled. “I’m keeping busy, but I can take on more.”
He leaned forward, looking into her eyes. “I think you’re unhappy, Billie.”
“You don’t know me that well,” Billie said, even though he was right. She’d had a rough six months . . . a rough year.
“Okay,” he said. “Then you’re probably too busy to accept the associate general counsel position we have open.”
Billie lost her cool for a second as her eyes widened. She pulled herself together quickly, but it was too late. He’d caught her.
“Don’t play games with me, Lane,” she warned.
“I know you’ve been waiting for the dust to settle before looking for a permanent job,” Lane said. “I think six months is long enough, don’t you?”
Rumors had been swirling as to why she’d left her firm. Despite an endless amount of law firms in Washington, D.C., it was still a pretty small community—especially in white-collar criminal defense. She wasn’t talking and, hopefully, her former employers hadn’t talked. “Starve a rumor and eventually it will go away” was what Sherise had taught her and she’d listened.
“I don’t know,” Billie said. “Do your bosses know about this? Sorry to be blunt, but you’re just an associate general counsel yourself, Lane. Do you have the power to make an offer?”
“That’s fair,” he said. “But, yes, I’ve discussed it with them. We need another person and they all like you. You’ve proven yourself. That means more to them than anything.”
“Well,” Billie said, trying her best to seem uncertain, “it’s something I’d have to consider.”
“Salary plus bonus potential could reach two hundred grand,” Lane said matter-of-factly. “But, yeah, go ahead and take some time to consider it.”
Billie rolled her eyes. She wasn’t fooling him. He knew she needed the money and needed back in the game in a more permanent, stable basis to get her mojo back. Her life was out of whack. Although she was hopelessly unlucky in love, she could at least have her career back on track.
When twenty-seven-year-old Erica Kent walked into Oy-amel, an expensive Mexican restaurant on Seventh Street, downtown D.C., she’d felt immediately out of place. She looked fine in her black boatneck tunic top and khaki pants, coupled with black pumps, but everyone there was dressed in designer suits. Everywhere she looked, she could see D.C. power and money, something this girl from Southeast D.C. was still not used to.
As she approached the hostess—a pretty black girl, with a side ponytail and a smile that seemed frozen in place—Erica was about to give her name, but it clearly wasn’t necessary.
“Hello, Ms. Kent,” she said in what sounded like a Haitian accent. She quickly came around her stand to greet her. “You are Ms. Kent, right?”
“Um . . . yes.” Not a trusting soul, Erica didn’t like that this woman assumed she knew who she was, but she was sure it was only because she had been described to a tee so as to be rushed hurriedly out of view.
“Your party is waiting,” she said. “Please follow me.”
Her assumption was right. As she was rushed through the restaurant to a private corner booth, Erica knew exactly what this was about. The person in the booth waiting for her—her father—didn’t want anyone seeing him having a private lunch with her. She found it hilarious, considering he’d been begging her to meet him for weeks now.
“Hello, Erica.” Jonah Nolan leaned up from his seat on the other end of the booth as the hostess gestured for Erica to sit down.
Jonah Nolan, U.S. secretary of defense, was one of the most powerful men in the world. He was incredibly popular among D.C.’s power circle. He always looked the bit. He was a very attractive man in his fifties, with a powerful presence. He was tall, had a warm pink hue to his skin, and dark hair, which was graying at the temples. He had a firm jawline and thin lips, which made him look very serious all the time.
Erica sat down before responding. “Hi, Jonah. Nice and private, I see.”
She could tell from his reaction he was tired of her saying things like that, but she didn’t care. If he was intent on her being his little secret, she was going to make him suffer for it. He was lucky she even agreed to see him.
Erica hadn’t wanted much to do with Jonah, ever since finding out almost two years ago that he was her father. He’d been a rich, privileged kid who had volunteered at the same hospital where Erica’s mother was a nurse. They’d had a brief summer romance, which Erica’s mot
her never told her about, and it wasn’t more than a fling to Jonah. Jonah left for the military and never looked back. Her mother had never told him she was pregnant, so Erica had spent the first twenty-five years of her life believing her real father was the same deadbeat no-gooder as younger brother Nate’s.
It was chance that Jonah found out about her. He was assistant secretary of defense and his office at the Pentagon, where Erica worked, was looking for a new assistant to his administrative manager. Erica’s middle name was Achelle, which was her mother’s first name. That, plus the same last name as her mother’s, piqued his interest.
He’d realized she was his daughter; but by then, Jonah was a powerful man with a political future, a blue-blooded socialite wife, and two kids. He was rumored to be on the path to the White House. A biracial love child was not a good look.
But, according to Jonah, he wanted his daughter near. He had Erica hired, but immediately she knew something was wrong. He was too nice to her, too involved in her life, especially too disapproving of her boyfriend of several years, Terrell Nicolli. Curious as to why Jonah was so eager to have him out of her life, Erica did some investigating and found out that Jonah was her father. Prior to this discovery, Erica had already found out Jonah was having an affair with her friend Sherise. She’d lost respect for him and was devastated to find out the ultimate truth.
She also found him to be a ruthless, calculating man—a person who did whatever he wanted. Anyone who crossed him paid a serious price. Erica hated him for it, but she couldn’t ignore that she was curious to find out about him. All her life she had dreamed of having a relationship with her father, but she never imagined this.
“This secrecy is to avoid rumors of an affair,” he said. “You’re an attractive young woman and I’m a very public man.”
“With a reputation as a ladies’ man,” she added. “Well earned.”
“Let’s not pretend I’m the only one here who would like to keep our relationship on the down low,” Jonah said.
“Down low?” Erica laughed as she spread her napkin on her lap. “What is that—an attempt to sound street so you can connect with me?”
“Isn’t that the right phrase?” he asked.
Erica shook her head. “Hasn’t been for a while now.”
The waiter approached their table with shrimp, chicken, and pork tortas plates. He began laying it down on the table.
“I took the liberty of ordering for us,” Jonah said. “Speeds things up.”
“Of course,” Erica said as the plates were placed in front of her. “What does it matter what I want?”
“Not fair,” he said sternly. “Much of this has been on your terms. We agreed that you would let me be a part of your life.”
Erica made a deal with the Devil—that Devil being her own father—a little over six months ago. She’d found out that Terrell, the man whom she loved and tried to work with on a fractured relationship, had returned to his hustler ways. Even though she’d ended their engagement, Erica worked hard to forgive him a year ago when he tried to blackmail Jonah over his affair with Sherise. She loved him and wanted a future with him.
That was before she’d found out that he had been acting as a mule for drug dealers. That was enough to make her cut him out of her life for good. But the fact that he’d also involved her younger brother, Nate, with these crooks was the last straw. Nate was using and selling for a little extra cash on the side. She would never, ever forgive Terrell for that. He’d broken her heart for the last time.
Desperate to save a quickly spiraling Nate, Erica went to the only person she knew who had the power to protect him. That was Jonah. He came through, making sure that Nate was kept out of trouble as the police came down on the dealer and those involved. He also helped Nate get into rehab. This was all in exchange for Erica agreeing to let him be a part of her life.
“You aren’t holding up your end of the bargain,” Jonah said.
“You make it hard to,” she responded.
No, she hadn’t been as open to him as she’d promised. To be honest, she was somewhat afraid of him. He’d shown her how far-reaching his power could go and how effortlessly he wielded it. There was a part of her that knew the closer she let him get, the more he could hurt her if she ever crossed him.
“You can’t expect me to forget all the things you’ve done,” she added. “You threatened Sherise and Terrell. You’ve—”
“That’s old news,” he said dismissively. “Besides, none of that matters now. I am glad you’re here. It’s been almost a month since we’ve seen each other. How are things going for you?”
She knew what he was asking. In addition to letting Jonah be a part of her life, his help was also conditioned on the promise that she never let Terrell in her life again. It wasn’t necessary. After what he’d done to Nate, Erica wanted nothing to do with Terrell.
“No,” she answered. “I’m not seeing Terrell. Why don’t you just ask me what you want to know? I haven’t seen him in almost four months.”
“He’s not begging and pleading for your forgiveness anymore?”
“He gave that up,” she said.
She was glad when he did. Jonah had done her a favor and spared Terrell from jail. There was a part of her that hated him, but the part that had once loved him—the part that once expected to marry Terrell—didn’t want him going to prison.
“Are you seeing someone?” he asked.
Erica stopped just before placing a fork filled with food in her mouth. With a sarcastic tone, she said, “I would tell you, but I’m sure you know already. You know everything that’s going on in my life, even though I’ve told you to stay out of it.”
He smiled as if he appreciated her boldness. “You’re my daughter. I’m going to look out for you, whether you want me to or not.”
“Fine,” she said, “just don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”
“I think,” he offered, ignoring her tone, “you need to get out of a funk. I know a couple of choice young men that you could meet and—”
“Really?” she asked. “We’ve already had this discussion, Jonah. No and no. The answer is always ‘no’ to you setting me up with anyone.”
He sighed, showing rare frustration. “You need to elevate your standards. The young man you went out with last week isn’t much different than Terrell.”
“Are you having me followed?”
“You like the thuggish type, don’t you?”
She rolled her eyes. There was probably a hint of truth to that. She didn’t like thugs, but she liked the kind of guys that are from around the block. She wasn’t interested in the polished perfection that Sherise and Billie went for. Erica liked boys who reminded her of the good things about where she came from, but she didn’t want anything to do with the bad things about where she came from.
“That was my first date in six months,” she said. “I’m rusty.”
The truth was, she hadn’t had much of an appetite for dating since breaking up with Terrell. She hadn’t imagined a future without him and wasn’t looking forward to giving another guy a try. She wasn’t trusting by nature, and relationships were scary. She had agreed to go out on a date with the son of a new coworker, mostly just to get her coworker off her back. The date was a disaster.
“Besides,” Erica said, smiling, “how would Juliet feel if she knew you were trying to set me up with someone from your social set? Does she even know you’re having lunch with me?”
“Yes, she does.” He glared at her, making it clear he didn’t care for her playful tone. “Juliet isn’t happy about all of this, but she’s dealing with it.”
Erica had only met Juliet Nolan a few times, but each time the woman had nothing but disdain for her and had treated her coldly. Erica knew that she was a chink in that smooth plan that Juliet had to become first lady of the United States.
“I’m trying to encourage her to get to know you better.” Jonah reached into his pocket to get his ringing phon
e. “I think you would like each other.”
“I doubt that,” Erica said.
Erica returned to eating and watched as Jonah’s face darkened and looked bewildered. This was such an uncommon look for a man who was always confident and so assured. Whatever it was he was hearing on the other end of that line had shaken him.
Just then, Erica realized that she was hearing more phones ring, more than usual at the same time. Something was up. This was Washington, D.C., and that usually meant a really great thing, or, more likely, a really bad thing.
Jonah placed the phone down on the table and looked off into the distance.
“What is it?” Erica asked eagerly. “What’s going on?”
Jonah looked around the restaurant and gestured for someone to come over to him. Erica peeked around the booth and noticed one of the two men walking toward them as Jonah’s security detail.
“I have to go,” Jonah said slowly. “Don’t worry. This is on my account. I have to go.”
“Jonah, what happened?” she asked as he started to slide out of the booth.
“It’s the vice president,” he answered. “He’s had a serious heart attack. It’s not looking good.”
Just then, both men reached Jonah and swiftly led him away from the booth.
Erica stayed where she was, listening to all the buzzing around her. Chairs squeaked against the floor as more people left their seats. She sat back in her booth, looking at her plate, her appetite completely gone.
2
Sherise was in the middle of her conversation about the newest restaurant in the West End that she wanted to try when she realized she was talking too much and too fast. Justin had been sitting across from her at their eat-in kitchen table. He had that barely awake, early-morning look on his face. Suddenly his dark eyes started getting smaller. He’d noticed just before she did.
Nothing to Lose Page 2