Crashing Down

by Samantha Conley

  “No one will hurt my family,” I vow.

  That afternoon, Bernard pulls the SUV into the parking garage of the high-rise tower of the law firm. The suit and tie already making me chafe. The elevator ride is tedious as a young woman gets on about three floors up and has been trying to flirt with me. I keep quiet facing forward not wanting to encourage her. A stop on the seventeenth floor relieves me of her company as she pouts at me over her shoulder.

  I get off on the twentieth floor; the doors opening into a wide lobby area with a single tall desk with an older woman with a severe look on her face sitting behind it.

  “Can I help you?” she asks with a snotty tone as she eyes the tattoos on my hands.

  “My name is Brett Ingles. I have an appointment with James Glass.”

  “Yes, Mr. Ingles, he is expecting you. Third door on the right. Just go in,” she replies after a few types on her computer.

  I trudge down the hall, my feet sinking into the plush carpet. The place is so fucking pretentious, it sets my teeth on edge. At the third door, was etched with the lawyer’s name into the glass. Opening the door, I come face to face with a nightmare. Candy is sitting on the side of the simple desk, black skirt hiked high on her thigh revealing the top of her stockings. Her red blouse is unbuttoned too far to be appropriate for work as she twists the strand of pearls she’s wearing with her finger.

  “Hello, Brett,” she purrs. “Fancy seeing you again. Dressed this time. I much prefer you wearing less.” She licks her red lips as she eyes me like a slab of meat.

  “I have an appointment with Mr. Glass.” I bite out.

  “Of course, you do,” she laughs. “Follow me.” She turns on her mile-high stilettos and saunters down the hall, hips swaying. She taps on the door opening it. “Mr. Glass, Mr. Ingles is here.” She steps back to allow me through the doorway and brushes her hand across my ass when I walk by. All I can do is glare at her without making a scene. She smirks in response as she shuts the door behind me.

  “Please have a seat.” I sit in the plush chair he indicates as I wait for his spiel. “I know that Mrs. Lexington informed you that you would become the executor of her great-grandson’s trust fund. I apologize that we have not been in contact before this, but the paperwork was just filed with the courts.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “As Mrs. Lexington’s sole heir, Colby will inherit the majority of her estate. She had made provisions for her favorite charities to continue to receive a stipend for the next decade in her name. In addition to his trust fund, Colby will also inherit his mother’s, three homes the family owns, several money market accounts, Mrs. Lexington’s personal accounts and a thoroughbred racehorse just to name a few items.” He slides a folder across his desk. “This contains a full accounting of everything Colby has inherited.”

  “I will take this to my attorney and accountant. Thank you." I accept the folder without opening it contents.

  “Do you have any questions?” He leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers on his rotund abdomen.

  “No, sir.”

  “If any problems arise, please contact me.” He stands from his chair, buttoning his gray suit jacket as he rounds the desk. I stand up and accept his handshake.

  “Thank you,” I respond as he leads me to the door. “Candace will show you out. Good afternoon.”

  Dread fills me as I make the trek toward the door and I pass by her desk without a glance.

  “Brett, I’ll walk you out.” Her obnoxious voice sounds behind me and I suppress a shudder.

  “No need,” I bark out not wanting her anywhere near me.

  “I insist,” she purrs, wrapping her hands around my arm. “You sure look handsome in a suit.” I bite the inside of my cheek to stifle my reply as we walk into the front lobby. The older lady sneers at Candy and me with disdain when she sees us.

  The wait for the elevator is an exercise in patience as I fight not to throw Candy across the room as she climbs my arm with her red talon fingernails. The soft ding and the opening of the metal doors herald my escape as I disengage her from my arm.

  “Goodbye, Candy,” I mutter stepping into the enclosure. The doors start to close as she slips in between them.

  “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, lover,” she states, crowding me against the back wall.

  “Get the fuck away from me, bitch,” I growl, grabbing her upper arms and pushing her away.

  “You weren’t saying that last time,” she smirks.

  “I’m not drugged now, am I?” The look on my face makes her shrink back.

  “It doesn’t matter, I got what I wanted. Except that Mandy ended up getting knocked up by you instead of me.” She pouts. “Now it’s my turn.”

  “You are fucking delusional,” I state as she drops to her knees in front of me, reaching for my belt buckle. “Get the fuck away from me!” I yell, gripping her hands and pushing her away. She lands on her ass with a thud before looking up at me, anger and lust warring in her green gaze.

  “I always get what I want, Brett. You better remember that,” she hisses as the car comes to a stop. The doors slide open and a group of people is gathered waiting to get in. They look at me before glancing down at Candy sitting disheveled on the floor. Tears well in her eyes before she breaks into sobs. What the fuck do I do? The position they find us in is damning. One of the younger men looks at me with pity in his eyes before glaring at Candy.

  “You aren’t the first man she’s done this to. Cover your ass is all I can advise you,” he orders before reaching down and lifting her up by the arm while she glares, tears dried up. “Dylan Finch is the head of security. He can get you a copy of the video that was recording. I’d do it before this one," he gives her a rough shake, “seduces another of the security guards into erasing it.”

  “Let me go!” Candy screeches. “Someone help me, please!” She looks around frantically, but not one face in the crowd seems tempted to help her. “He tried to force me…”

  “Cut the bullshit, Candy,” one of the women hisses. “We all know how you are.”

  “Shut up, Mary,” Candy smirks. “You’re just mad that I’ve fucked your husband.”

  “Like Mark said,” Mary looks at me, “Dylan Finch is who you want to talk to. Tell him Mary Renaldo sent you and it shouldn’t be a problem to get you and your attorney,” she emphasizes, “a copy of the video.”

  The group steps back as Mark jerks Candy out of the elevator and I trail behind. The security desk is to the right of the main door and as I stride toward it I read the plaque bearing the partners names—Glass, Thorn, Bishop, and Renaldo. I’ll be damned.

  The burly, dark-skinned guard in his starched gray uniform rises when I approach, a bright white smile crossing his face.

  “I’ve already called my boss to let him know he’s needed,” he chuckles. “I knew something was up when I saw Mr. Glaser leading that woman off the elevator. Nothing but trouble that one.”

  Another set of doors opens, and a uniformed man with close cropped salt and pepper hair comes closer, thrusting his hand towards me.

  “Dylan Finch,” he introduces himself, “Jefferson here called and said you had some trouble on the elevator ride down.”

  “Yes, sir. Mary Renaldo said I needed to speak with you about getting a copy of the video from inside the elevator.”

  “Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” the man swears. “Come with me,” he orders as he turns on his heel leading me back the way he came. About a hundred feet down the corridor, we enter a room full of monitors.

  “Kevin, pull up the video feed from elevator four, from about fifteen minutes ago,” he barks out. A younger guy scrambles to find the right one. Once found, he fast forward to the appropriate time when Candy and I enter the elevator.

  “Copy it from here until they leave the elevator. Two copies,” Dylan orders.

  “Yes, sir,” Kevin’s voice quakes.

  “Maybe now they’ll fire the bitch,” Dylan mutters as he watche
s me push her away. “Last time she pulled this shit, she blew one of my men to get him to erase what had happened. Ended up being a he said she said thing. David was a damn good lawyer, and he resigned from the firm when she wanted to press charges. I got her this time though,” he smiles smugly.

  An hour later, I walk back into the suite loosening my tie before yanking it over my head. Colby and Skylar are curled up on the couch sound asleep, her arms securely wrapped around him. My entire world is right there in front of me and I’ll be damned if I let anything happen to them.

  17

  Skylar

  Colby squirms on top of me trying to get comfortable and I realize how late it’s gotten. I lay him down in the crib the hotel provided, a little snuffling noise escapes him before he settles back to sleep. The sound of water splashing in the adjoining bathroom assures me that Brett returned while we were sleeping. Peeling off my plum colored dress, I open the door as the steam billows in my face. His toned body is shadowed behind the frosted glass doors as I slide in behind him, wrapping my arms around his middle as the hot water pours down.

  “Hey,” I murmur as he squeezes my arms before turning to face me. “When did you get back?”

  “A few minutes ago,” he says leaning down to kiss me. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

  “You didn’t. Colby trying to get more comfortable did,” I chuckle.

  “I guess he’s still asleep,” he murmurs against my lips.

  “Yeah, I put him down in the crib. We’ll have to wake him up soon or he’ll be up all night.”

  “Everything okay at the attorney’s office?” His faces tighten with the question.

  “No problem with the attorney.”

  “What then?” My eyes search his face for answers. “Is there a problem?”

  “No, Colby is the sole heir. He gets almost everything except what was designated for charity.”

  “Then what…”

  “Not what, who. You’ll never believe who was there.”

  “No? Seriously?” Disbelief clear in my question.

  “She’s his fucking secretary.”

  “Great,” I bite out.

  “We shouldn’t have to deal with her anymore. Everything can go through the lawyers.”

  “Something else happened didn’t it?” He hesitates. “Brett.”

  “Fuck.” He wipes his hand down his face. “She followed me into the elevator when I was leaving and tried to seduce me. I pushed her away and she fell to the floor. She was still there when it stopped. “

  “Oh, shit,” I breathe out. I know where this is going. “I will pull every blonde hair out of her fucking head.”

  “Feisty, I like it,” he laughs pulling me closer to his chest, the water pooling in my cleavage. “It shouldn’t be a problem. The elevator had a camera recording the whole thing. I have a copy and so does my lawyer. She can say what she wants but we have the proof.”

  “I’m ready to go home,” I mutter against his chest.

  “Me, too, babe.”

  “In the meantime,” I tease dropping to my knees in front of him, wrapping my hand around his hardening shaft, pumping as I lick the crown. His hands bury in my hair, tugging on the strands.

  “Fuck,” he moans out when I flick my tongue around his piercing. Placing the head of his dick between my lips, I suck lightly before enveloping him in my mouth as much as I can take without gagging. My hand cradles the rest of his length, twisting with each bob of my head.

  “Damn it, Skylar. Fuck baby, that feels good." His balls draw up tight when I palm the heavy weights before rubbing a finger on the sensitive skin just behind them.

  “God, baby, I’m gonna cum,” he pants out and I suck harder at his admission. He hands tighten in my hair as he fucks my mouth in short thrusts. My hand the only thing keeping him from going too deep. The first salty drop hits my tongue and I look up at him with his head thrown back, neck veins distended. Sensing my stare, his head drops and our eyes lock. He pulls back, gripping his dick in his big hand far harder than I and pumps furiously. With a cry, his come splashes all over my chest as he sags against the tile, arms resting on the surface. I lean forward and give him one last lick.

  ‘God damn,” he breathes out as he reaches down pulling me to my feet. “I fucking love you.” His lips meet mine kissing me breathless.

  “I love you too,” I whisper when he lets me up for air. A thud from the other room alerts us that Colby is awake.

  “As much as I love my come marking you, why don’t you finish cleaning up and I’ll get him.”

  “Good idea. He was missing you this afternoon.”

  “I missed you both,” he retorts, drying off.

  “Eh, I might have missed you too,” I tease picking up the washcloth and wiping away the mess.

  “Dada, dada,” the chant becomes louder.

  “Hold on Colby, I’m coming,” he calls walking out of the bathroom.

  I wrap the bathrobe around myself as the boys talk in the other room. I’m not sure what Colby is animated about but he’s talking non-stop with the occasional comment from Brett. It does my heart good knowing how far he’s come.

  “What are we doing for supper?” I ask walking into the room. Colby is sitting on Brett’s lap as they look at his picture book.

  “I figured room service and we could sack out with a movie. Did we bring any that Colby likes?”

  “Of course,” I laugh. I may not like him to watch too much, but I need a break sometimes. “We have a few on the tablet he likes.”

  Sometime later that night, I reread one of my favorite Abbie Zanders’ books while both of my boys nod off. I think I can handle this life.

  The flight home wasn’t nearly as smooth, and I nearly kissed the ground when we finally disembarked off the plane. Colby whined most of the flight, but I think it was because he didn’t sleep well the night before. That long nap in the afternoon wrecked the whole damn thing. We deserved the disgusted looks we’d gotten throughout the flight as no one had gotten any rest. As we pulled into the drive at Brett’s house, he reaches over and squeezes my thigh.

  “Move in with me,” he orders.

  “Okay,” I murmur, my voice thick with sleep.

  “I’ll call the guys and we’ll pack up your stuff this weekend.”

  “That’s not a lot of notice. What if they’re busy?”

  “We’re family. They can rearrange whatever.”

  “My lease isn’t up for two more months.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m on good terms with your landlord.” He winks.

  “Crap, I didn’t even think it was Derek’s dad.”

  “And his uncle.”

  “Okay let’s get him fed and ready for bed. I don’t know about you, but I’m worn out. Who knew it would be so tiring traveling with a toddler,” he quips, and I give him a droll look.

  “Only every parent on the planet,” I mumble under my breath.

  “We’re new at this, it’s a learning curve.”

  The truck rolls to a stop and I wait for him to open the door for me. He lifts me down with ease before getting Colby out of his.

  “How about we let him walk? He probably needs to stretch his legs as much as we do.” Brett puts his feet on the ground and Colby does this cute little bouncy thing before taking a step toward me. I reach down and clasp his little hand in mine as we slowly make our way to the front door. Every other step that he takes, he looks back to make sure Brett is following, making my heart melt.

  “I bet Nelda left us something in the refrigerator for supper tonight,” Brett calls out as we sit down on the couch.

  “I love her.”

  “Me too. Don’t know what I’d do without her.”

  We finally get into bed around midnight, exhausted from the recent events. My mind won’t shut off and let me sleep. My head rests on Brett’s chest. The steady rhythm of his heart normally lulls me into sleep.

  “Why are you still awake?” he murmurs sleepily, fingers twis
ting in my hair. “Something on your mind?”

  “Just a gut feeling we haven’t seen the last of Candy.”

  “She’s a thousand miles away, babe. She has no reason to come here.”

  “Why doesn’t that reassure me?”

  “How about I wear you out, so you can sleep?” he asks rolling me over, a wicked glint in his brown eyes.

  “I bet you can,” I giggle as his lips cover mine.

  “What time are we supposed to meet the others at Jake’s tonight?" I holler at him, putting in my silver hoop earrings.

  “Around eight,” he replies over the running water of the shower.

  “Vi is watching Colby tonight, right?”

  “And Delaney. She will have her hands full.” He laughs.

  “Hurry up in there or we'll be late.”

  The water turns off and I catch a glimpse of his beefy ass before he wraps the towel around his waist.

  “Don’t worry, we won't be late. And if we are,” he states walking by me to the closet, “they can drink a beer in our stead.”

  “I’d just hate for us to be late to the party when we’re the ones who invited them as a thank you for helping us move all my stuff.”

  “Since we’re picking up the tab, I don’t think they’ll mind. But if you’ll quit distracting me, I’ll finish getting ready,” he jokes coming out of the closet buckling his belt, his black t-shirt with the words Southern Drawl written in script across his muscular chest. “See, I’m ready.”

  “Then grab Colby while I finish up,” I smile at him. He walks up behind me where I’m sitting at my vanity and places his hands on my shoulders.

  “You look gorgeous,” he states holding my gaze in the mirror.

  “You’re biased.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You’re the most beautiful thing in the world.”

  “You know I’m a sure thing, right,” I tease.

  He leans down, kissing the area where my neck and shoulder meet knowing it drives me wild.