“Hello.” She smiled. This must be the brother who worked with Roman. Alexandra knew Marco, the head of security, who’d worked those two nights she’d come in, but had yet to be introduced to the other Valentine.
“I’m Quinn,” he told her, smiling charmingly. Damn. Quinn had the kind of smile that made a woman want to hand over her panties, ready for whatever debauchery he placed on the menu.
“Alexandra.” He nodded, making small talk while they walked toward the entrance. She liked Quinn, he was easy to talk to, even though they were just making small talk.
Marco held out his fist when she walked to the door, and she returned the fist bump. They’d started the ritual when she’d first started coming on in. “How are you doing tonight?”
“Just living the dream.”
“I bet.” He chuckled, pointing at Quinn. “Make sure you keep an eye on this one. He’s slicker than his brother.”
“Trust me, I have my hands full with one of them. I don’t need a second.”
Quinn looked affronted. “I’m standing right here. No need for you two to ply me with compliments.”
Marco jerked his finger toward her, talking to Quinn. “Don’t worry, she won’t.”
“And on that note…” She hugged Marco, waving to Quinn and hoping to get out of there. Quinn didn’t take the hint. Following her onto the sidewalk, clearly he shared more with his brother other than looks.
“I can see why my brother’s so enamored with you,” he mused.
“I could say the same for him,” she answered honestly. They parted ways, and she practically skipped to her car riding high on Quinn’s mini seal of approval.
11
“Alexandra.” Wesley stopped her while she wished the single-serve coffee maker would magically work faster, but all she got were the splashes and sounds of the old machine sputtering out her choice.
“Can I help you, Wesley?” She smiled despite her irritation at running into him.
“No.” He turned his back on her, gathering his coffee cup from the sink so he could use it next. She reminded herself she needed his approval if she wanted to make partner. Snatching her cup as soon as it finished, she grabbed a couple packets of sugar and creamer. She would doctor it in her office, away from him. She could see freedom, the hallway where Wesley would be a distant memory when he spoke. “Follow the money.”
She turned back. “Excuse me?” Wesley rarely spoke to her, let alone gave her cryptic messages while she made coffee.
“Follow the money,” he repeated. He combed through the current coffee selections as though he wasn’t babbling on like a disoriented person. “I never understood these things, why people have to doctor their coffee with these frou-frou flavors. I like mine strong and black.” He made sure she was still paying attention before continuing. “When you start adding a bunch of crap to it, the coffee tends to get weaker. I don’t let my assistants make my coffee, either. Too many hands in the pot, things can get messy fast. You understand what I’m saying?” His steel-gray eyes narrowed, trying to communicate with his own fucked-up version of a coffee analogy.
“Yeah.” She nodded, going back to her office, trying to process what he said. She sat down, writing on her notepad everything he said as best she could so she’d have it for future reference. She checked her cell phone, seeing the text from Roman about seeing her that night.
Alexandra: I’ll think about it. I have a lot of work.
Roman: And I’ll think about smacking that ass again.
Alexandra: Is that a threat? Because you’re not scaring me. I enjoyed it.
Roman: Did you think it was a threat? It was a promise. I know it leaves you soaking and wanting me. You asked me to get you laid, and I can’t if you’re avoiding me.
Alexandra: I’m not avoiding you. I do have a lot of work.
Roman: Dinner at 7 then? You gotta eat, and I thought we decided we needed to be seen.
And there we have it, she thought, knowing him well enough to tell he wasn’t going to be persuaded to do something else. She’d made an agreement, had agreed to be seen with him in case someone mentioned she spent time at the club. Nothing more, nothing less. She could work when they were done with dinner.
Sending him a confirmation text, stressing it was only dinner, she put him out of her mind as she combed through the file Karen had gathered from the prosecution with the information about Corey’s case. She went through everything, but they didn’t have much either, save for the identification. She studied the paper, where Corey’s picture was circled with the date and time of the identification. Something was off, but she couldn’t figure out what. She stared at the picture for several minutes but nothing came to her.
“Knock, knock.” Her mother peeked her head through her office door. “How’s my baby?” Alexandra hopped up to hug her; she’d forgotten they had an appointment for lunch today. They’d made it two weeks before, but with everything going on, it had slipped her mind. And didn’t that beat all? There was a time when she’d never forget her mother, but her life had started to resemble a snowball. The kind that starts off small and goes barreling down the hill, gathering more and more things as it goes until it threatens to cause actual harm. She was in its sights, with her work and everything going on with Roman, and she needed to take a break.
“She’s great.” Alexandra kissed her, smelling the faint scent of flowers, her mother’s signature scent. Whenever Alexandra was near her, she found herself barreled back into her childhood when she used to play on her mother’s vanity while her mom watched on with pride. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready.” She grabbed her purse and the coffee she had no time to drink anyway so she could throw it out. Spotting the picture of her father, she asked the question on her mind. “Hey, Mom, do you know Franklin Williams?”
Adelaide folded her arms across her chest, repositioning herself so she stood with her feet hip-width apart. “No. Why are you asking about him?” She refused to look Alexandra in the eye, studying a spot over her shoulder.
Alexandra felt a sense of unease settle in the pit of her stomach. “No reason. He told me to tell you hello, though.”
Adelaide ran her hand through her hair, relaxing her shoulders and clasping her shaking hands in front of her clutch. “Really? Well, I don’t know who he is. Unless he’s some former associate. Oh, I forgot to remind you, we need to go shopping for the banquet soon, because I can’t have you going like a hag. Your grandmother wanted to make sure I reminded you since it’s in the name of your grandfather. Besides, you never know who will be there…” She trailed off, a sly smile gracing her face. Alexandra filed away her mother’s reaction about Franklin for later. She knew him, but why did she insist on lying about it?
“What have you done?” Alexandra dug through the black hole she called her purse so she could lock up and go. She’d come back to Corey’s case this afternoon. Maybe getting away would give her some clarity.
“Nothing, dear. You know me, I’m just rambling on in my old age.” She waved her off as though she was talking nonsense.
Alexandra chuckled. “Your mind is sharp as a tack, old lady, so I’m not buying it.”
“Maybe I just want to make sure my daughter looks amazing. Could you imagine if you came there looking crazy like Hilda’s grandchildren? Piercings and tattoos everywhere! Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but if you decide to get some man’s name on your neck, I will never hear the end of it.” Alexandra shook her head; her mother had a tattoo of her own, so she had no room to talk.
“Mom, you have a tattoo, and there is nothing wrong with people with tattoos.”
“Of course not, but if you put some man’s name smack dab on the side of your neck, I’m gonna complain.”
“Okay.” Alexandra laughed. “No neck tattoos. Wait…neck tattoos?” Her eyes widened. “That’s it. I figured it out.” Alexandra ran and grabbed the Davis file, flipping pages until she came to the document she was searching for. Her mother stood there,
watching her like she’d lost her mind, not that Alexandra blamed her.
“Mom, I gotta go by the jail.” Alexandra grabbed the folder, too excited to contain herself.
“What about lunch?” Her mother struggled to keep up with her.
“Lunch first, then I’ll go see a client. I gotta figure out if he’s still in jail.”
“Jail? Well, aren’t you just swimming in a stream of optimism and enthusiasm?” She huffed, probably seeing her dreams of a long lunch followed by some afternoon shopping evaporating before her very eyes.
Alexandra kissed her on the cheek, wrapping her arms around her to soften the blow. “All day, every day. And Parker and I will both go shopping with you this weekend.”
Lunch with her mother was wonderful, as usual, and the visit to the jail was both enlightening and exciting. She’d found the key to get him off. She had to have Karen do some follow-up interviews and gather more information, but Corey shouldn’t serve any more time.
***
“It’s just dinner, princess; I’m not breaking out rings.” Roman’s deep voice came across the speakerphone in her office. She’d texted him after lunch telling him she couldn’t meet him for dinner. She needed to go home; her mother lied about knowing Franklin and she wanted to know why. The envelope sat in her home office, waiting for her.
“Uh…I can’t tonight.”
“Can’t, or won’t? Because if you don’t want to try this, tell me now. But don’t get upset if someone questions us together.”
“I know.” She sighed. “But I have to work, so I would love to, but I can’t. I’m not getting out of it, there is a legitimate reason.”
“Don’t work too hard,” he said, not waiting for her goodbye before he hung up.
“I won’t, asshole, but you didn’t wait to hear me,” she muttered, her mind shifting back to the case. She would finish up then head out.
“We got this,” she told the photograph of her parents she’d put on her desk years before. It was a reminder of how far she’d come, and why she needed to stay focused if she wanted to achieve the goal of continuing her father’s legacy. The anniversary of his death was fast approaching, the up-coming banquet a stark reminder of all she’d lost.
“Alexandra.” Karen came to the door, her hands held out of front of her. “I tried to stop him.” Roman came into view, striding into the room, zeroing in on her quickly.
“Roman,” she bit out. “I told you I’m busy tonight.” Karen shot her a sympathetic smile and closed the door behind her.
He sat down in front of her desk, propping his legs out in front of him. “Yeah, you are. With me.”
“Noooo.” The promise of his company made her giddy with excitement, but responsibility told her to calm her happy ass down. She shook the yellow notepad toward him where she’d been taking notes, reminding them both why she shouldn’t. “I have to prep for a case.”
“Prep tomorrow. I want to have dinner tonight, and would love to have it with you. We’ll go to dinner and then you go home. I won’t bother you for sex and if you feel the need to work later, you can.” This was why she hadn’t dated, because men took time she wasn’t willing to give. But Roman wasn’t going away; he had actually parked his sexy ass in front of her desk, waiting for her to agree.
“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “But”—she stopped him when the smirk appeared—“you can’t do this again. I’m only agreeing because you’re taking me somewhere ridiculously expensive and I’m ordering a filet and the most expensive bottle of wine as your punishment.”
He stalked toward her, forcing her to tip her head back so she could look in his face. “That supposed to scare me?” He gave her a hard kiss. “Be grateful you came without a fight, or I would have dragged you by your hair.”
“Careful, your caveman’s showing.” She pinched his ass, making him jerk and pushing his crotch right in her face.
“There are so many ways to take advantage of this, but I figure you’d cut me if I attempted a blow job in your office.”
“You think right.” She would, she couldn’t resist him, but it’d get her fired. She pushed him so they could get out of her office and get her nice, juicy steak, before she gave into her desire to do him on her desk. Besides, the sooner they ate, the sooner she’d get home and see what Franklin gave her. The stares of her coworkers were unnerving when they left the office. Alexandra never brought a man there, but damn, they didn’t have to treat it like he was the Sasquatch. Something rumored to exist but never seen. Whatever, she thought, standing taller when Roman put his hand on the small of her back and guided her toward the elevators. Their reaction reinforced the idea they should be seen together.
He didn’t give her a choice when they reached the parking lot, ushering her into the waiting SUV.
“How many cars do you have?” she asked after they were on the way to the restaurant. His car smelled like him, the crisp, clean scent of his body wash. Distinct and subtle. Nothing spectacular, but all Roman.
“Two. This one and the GTO. Is that all you want to know, or would you like a list of all the items I own?” He smirked.
“Nah, your cars will do. You know what they say about the size of the man and the size of his car. Maybe you’re overcompensating.” She rubbed her hand over his thigh, heading directly to the seam of his pants. He stopped her right before she reached paradise.
“I’ll be happy to show you my stick shift later, but we both know I’m not overcompensating for anything.” He kissed her palm. She melted when he did little gestures such as that. He could be unbending, but when he showed her the softer side she dissolved.
“Fine, you’re not overcompensating. You’re just trying to show everybody your club makes more money than theirs,” she shot back, not letting on how she felt when he kissed her hand.
“Maybe,” he acquiesced. “Sex always sells. People don’t want to acknowledge it, but it’s true. Come on.” He opened the door, leaving the keys in the care of the valet. She did a happy dance when she saw her favorite steakhouse. “We’ll get your steak and wine.”
The hostess smiled brighter when he walked up. Back off, she wanted to tell the girl, who all but ignored Alexandra while she purred at Roman and asked if he was dining alone.
“No,” he told her, giving his name, pulling Alexandra closer and kissing her forehead. Feeling naughty, Alexandra stood on the balls of her feet so she could whisper in his ear.
“For that display, I promise to make you a very happy guy.” He turned his head, their lips mere centimeters away from each other so if either one moved, they would be kissing.
“Tonight?”
She nodded, then remembered her original plans for the evening and shook her head. “No, tomorrow. I have work.”
“You’re such a tease.” He rolled his eyes. “What good is sex on demand if you won’t put out?” The discrete cough brought them back to reality, where the hostess was glaring.
“Your table is ready, Mr. Valentine.” She pivoted on her heels, leading them to a darkened area of the restaurant designed for privacy. Roman held out her seat, making sure she was comfortable before he sat across for her.
He’s perfect for me. Why couldn’t we have met under different circumstances? Their waiter came, taking their drink order before leaving them alone.
“You knew I would come with you,” she accused, because the reservations had to have been made earlier, well before she told him yes.
“I was hopeful you’d be worn down by my charm.” He slid his arm across the table, palm side up, and Alexandra put her hand in his.
“It worked.” She turned his hand over, playing with his fingers and watching the water droplets fall from their glass as though it were the most interesting activity she’d seen in days.
“Talk to me.” She risked a glance up, her attention diverted to the platinum blonde sauntering toward their table as though she owned the place. The woman smirked at Alexandra, winking as she got closer, her attention on Roman. S
he stopped by the table, running her hand up the back of his head. Alexandra sat up straighter, pulling her hand away from his while he turned his attention to the blonde.
“Hello, darling.” The woman smiled, leaning down and kissing him squarely on the lips.
12
Roman jerked back from the unexpected kiss, wiping his mouth while Gina stood over him as though she were watching her prey. He risked a glance at Alexandra, who sat bemused, assessing the situation.
“What the hell is your problem?” he spat at Gina, ignoring the setting. If people stared, he didn’t give a shit; she accosted him for no reason, so she could deal with his anger.
“Darling.” She moved closer, her arms raised as though she would wrap them around his neck. She resembled a snake ready to suck the life out of her latest victim, and the smirk she sent him meant she knew what she was doing. He caught her arms moments before contact, moving her back forcefully so she wouldn’t touch him.
“Stop right there. I’m not your darling, and I’m trying to figure out why you’re over here pretending like we have a relationship. We don’t, we never will, and besides, won’t your husband have a problem with you over here kissing someone else?” She was still married, he’d never wanted her, and if he needed to take out a billboard or bang the words over her thick skull for her to get, it he would.
She raised her ringless hand, wiggling her fingers for emphasis. “What husband? The divorce will be finalized in no time. You knew we were getting a divorce. We’ve talked about it.”
“Once. In passing. I didn’t care, so why would I remember it? I have no clue why you’re coming up here and kissing me as though it’s your right. Alexandra is the only woman with the right to do so, and I made it clear weeks ago you weren’t allowed to touch me. You know I don’t stand for unwanted attention of any kind, and that’s twice now. What’s that saying? Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me. You don’t want there to be a third time. Understand?” The veiled threat simmered beneath the surface—if she messed with him again she was kicked out of the club. He’d told her to leave him alone, but she seemed to believe since she’d had her claws in him once, she could dig in and stay. He’d tried it tactfully, and wasn’t above playing hardball.
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