by Alexa Davis
Suddenly, it dawned on me what they were doing. They were willing to hack into Lydia's system and get her client list and then break it down to the most viable converts, but I was going to have to sell the idea to the targets. I was the bait.
"You're going to send me into these peoples' place of business – and I use that term loosely," I said in a calm voice that hid the level of anger I was now feeling. "I'm the bait that will be used to lure these shady clients into our firm so we can practice law below the legal level."
"Brooke, that's not fair," Jordie said. "Sure, we want you to go in and sell the idea, but that's because you're smart and articulate and you know criminal law better than both Roger and I combined."
"And because I look hot in a skirt and a tight blouse," I added.
"Well, there's that..." Roger said as Jordie smacked him on the back of the head. "Ouch! What'd you do that for?"
"Idiot!" Jordie yelled at him. "I told you to shut the hell up about how she looks!"
"But it's true!" Roger shot back.
"Uh, hello? I'm still in the room," I said as I hid a smile. These two could be idiots, but they were well-intentioned idiots who truly wanted to save the firm from destruction.
"Okay, you two work on the list and when you're ready, come find me and we'll figure out our next step," I said as I walked out of the room. In the hallway, I ran into Alma who was returning from filling her coffee mug. "Alma, they're idiots," I said shaking my head.
"Yes, but they are well-intentioned idiots and that should not be discounted," she replied as she continued down the hall.
She was right.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Dax
"The fuck, Dax!" Beck shouted as he slammed open the door to my office. "What the fuck are you doing to me?"
"What are you talking about?" I asked as I looked over the books on my desk and compared them to the files on my computer. I kept several sets of books just in case something happened to one of them, and every week, I personally squared each of them to make sure that no one was cheating me. So far, so good, but I knew I couldn't ever drop my guard or they'd be at me like wolves on blood.
"I'm talking about the fact that you cut me off, big brother!" He was frantically pacing the floor in front of my desk. He was obviously in need of a fix, but not jonesing too hard yet. "You told all the street dealers not to sell to me! The fuck, man?"
"Beck, I've given you every opportunity to sober up and get clean," I repeated the same speech I'd been giving him for the past five years, knowing full well that it would do as much good as all the other speeches I'd given him. Beck hadn't yet hit bottom and until he did, he wasn't going to be motivated to get clean. My heart ached from wanting my little brother back, but I also knew that I couldn't do anything for him. He had to want it for himself.
"Fuck that clean shit, man," he waved at me as he paced restlessly. "Take your do-gooder bullshit to another audience, bro."
"It's not bullshit, Beck," I said as I watched him. He was deep in the grip of a heroin addiction, and I could see the effects. His skin was pocked and bleeding in places where he'd picked at it. He was wearing a long sleeved shirt covered by a sweatshirt and a hoodie even though it was ninety degrees outside. And, I could see that he still hadn't gone to see the dentist I'd found for him. He needed to get his teeth looked at, but he refused to go.
"It's absolute bullshit, Dax, and you know it," he said.
"Why do you say that? I'm doing everything I can to help you," I replied.
"Yeah, but you're still selling the shit," he shot back. "You're a fuckin' street dealer who counts on the junkies like me to need what you're selling. You feed on us, bro. You create the habit and then you keep us weak and enslaved so you can sit in your penthouse counting your cash."
"That's not fair, Beck," I said in a measured tone. "You know what I do. I provide a product to those who require it. It's as simple as that."
"Yeah, but it's not simple when you're sitting on your high horse preaching to your little brother who is a smack addict, now is it?" he said pointedly.
"You have a choice," I replied.
"And so do you, big brother," he said as he put his palms on my desk and leaned over to look me straight in the eye. "You've got a choice to hook me up with what I need or to face the consequences of your actions."
"What the hell are you talking about?" I said as I waved him off. "Get the fuck out of here!"
"I'm talking about what we both know," he said. His eyes were burning with a fevered light. "You know what I'm talking about. If you don't hook me up, I'm gonna go down to the precinct and tell them everything I know about this business."
"Beck," I warned. He'd threatened this a hundred times, and every single time I'd explained how it would work if he did that. Somehow the fact that he was a junkie didn't quite sink in and the fact that I'd worked hard to keep the business buried deep underneath a number of legitimate businesses buried under a number of other legitimate businesses didn't seem to register. "You don't want to do that."
"No, you don't want to do that!" he yelled. "Give me my stuff! Dammit, Dax! Give me my stuff!"
He was dangerously close to a total meltdown, but we'd been to this edge many times before. I watched him as he spun further and further out of control, hoping that this time would be the time he realized that he needed help. He stomped and screamed and threatened me with every violent act he could think of before he turned and looked at me and screamed, "I hate you!"
"I know you do," I said. "But I love you enough to let you hate me if it means you'll get help and come back and be my brother again."
"Fuck that shit, man," he scoffed. "Why the fuck would I want to be your brother? A fuckin' loser like you? Hell no, motherfucker!"
"Beck, please," I said quietly.
"Fuck you, man," he said as he stalked to the door and flung it open. "You're so fucking selfish, Dax. Always have been and always will be. No wonder everyone we love is dead. They couldn't compete with your self-centered need to be the focus of the universe. Don't worry, I'm next up!"
He turned and raced down the stairs and tore across the dance floor to the exit. I could tell he was crying and it killed me. The hateful things he said to me when he was in desperate need of a fix tore me up and left a gaping wound that took a long time to scab over. Unfortunately, every time I thought maybe it would get the chance to heal, Beck would tear the scab off and thrust a knife deep into the tender part.
I rested my elbows on my desk and dropped my head into my hands as I breathed through the pain and vowed never to let him flay me like that again.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Brooke
Later that afternoon, Jordie stuck his head in my office and asked me to come down to the conference room. I grabbed my coffee mug and walked down the hall to join them. Alma had made yet another fresh pot of coffee and I silently thanked her for keeping us caffeinated.
"What's up?" I asked as I walked into the room.
"Come sit down and listen to what we've got," Jordie said. He was holding a stack of papers that looked like they'd been stuffed in the bottom of a backpack.
"Okay, lay it on me, guys," I said as I sat down and prepared to hear their game plan. Jordie looked at Roger and nodded.
"Alright, well, we've gone through Lydia's client list and narrowed it down to the top ten clients we think we might be able to attract," Roger began.
"Just ten?" I asked with mock surprise.
"Well, we've got another ten backups just in case these don't work out," Roger said. "But we thought that if we went after more than ten it would look suspicious."
"Oh, and mining a dead lawyer's client list the day after she's pulled out of the water isn't at all suspicious?" I said.
"There's no need for sarcasm, Brooke," Jordie warned. He was right, but I was thinking about how all of this would play out in the papers. Especially since I'd be the face of the firm.
"I know, I'm just thinking ahead," I said. "
You guys have thought about how this is going to play out, right?"
"Yep, we certainly have," Roger said. "That's why we've got a schedule for how each of these clients should be approached and an individual plan for how we can put ourselves in the path of client so that it doesn't look fishy."
"Seriously, Roger?" I said incredulously.
"What? Too soon?" he said with a crooked grin.
"Definitely too soon," Jordie piped in. "Okay, so what we're going to do is fan out and do a wide sweep of the client list. Roger and I are good for the clubs and parties since we're already well-known on the circuit."
"I guess your wild ways will come in handy, after all," I said with a wry grin.
"I told you we were laying the ground for something important," Roger insisted. I wanted to smack the goofy grin off of his face, but I knew he was completely serious, so I let it pass.
"So, where do I come in?" I asked.
"We want you to land the big fish," Jordie said as he handed me a crisp sheet of paper that contained three names. I looked at it and inhaled sharply. "I know it's asking a lot for you to try and talk with these people, but we figured that with your dad's connections you might be the one best suited to approach them."
"Jesus, Jordie, are you serious?" I asked.
"Deadly," he replied. "If we can land one of those three, then we'll be set for at least a year, and the publicity alone will give us a high profile and attract more clients."
"You're talking about vying for one of three different high profile businessmen in LA," I said. "Don't you think that they might be wary of the fact that we'd offer to represent their rivals?"
"We thought about that," Roger said. "And, we decided that it's more of a push game. We play them off of each other and then pick the one that shows the most promise."
"Or we end up pissing them all off and being frozen out entirely," I said. "Did you wise guys think about that?"
"It's a risk no matter how you look at it, Brooke," Jordie shrugged. "Either we go big or we go home."
"What's the game plan if they find out that we're playing them against each other?" I asked.
"We tell each of them that the others have pursued us, but that we only want to represent them," Roger said.
"This is a very risky game, my friends," I said shaking my head. I had a sinking feeling about this for more than one reason. I knew that the guys had done the best they could, but I didn't like where this was headed and I wasn't sure I was willing to do what it would take to play the game the way they wanted.
"It's not worth it if it's not a big risk," Jordie said. "Are you in?"
I looked back down at the list in front of me: William Grant III, Ari Bloomberg, and Dax Malone. I took a deep breath and said, "Okay, I'm in, but I want you to know that it's reluctantly. I don't like this one bit."
"Duly noted," Jordie nodded. "We'll do our best to make it work on our end, Brooke."
"We'll do everything in our power to try and mine our list first," Roger added.
"I hope this works," I said as I looked at the two of them. "Because if it doesn't, we're going to be in hot water."
"Well, you know what they say," Jordie said. "Getting into hot water helps keep you clean!"
I raised an eyebrow, nodded and stood up. "I hope that's true, Jordie," I said as I turned and walked out the door clutching the list that was either going to make or break us.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Dax
"We need to do something about Beck, Ri," I said. I'd called her the minute Beck had stormed out of my office and told her to come up. She'd walked through the door minutes later and perched herself on the arm of one of the chairs in front of my desk.
"What do you want me to do?" she asked. She was wearing her usual uniform, a black t-shirt topped with a fashionably distressed camouflage jacket, tight black leather pants, and a pair of tightly laced Doc Martens. Her hair was pulled back in a neat braid that stretched down to the center of her back and, even without makeup, she was incredibly striking. I'd always told her she should try for a modeling career, but when I did, she'd give me look like she thought I was crazy and go back to whatever daredevil thing she was aiming to attempt. Riza had a penchant for risk taking, and that's why I made her my right hand. She'd do things that I couldn't afford to do while trying to maintain a legitimate face in the business community.
"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.