Jackie lifted her mug to her lips and took a long sip. “Wow. It’s a lot. I thought you wanted to see me to go over the male auction shenanigans. Boy, was I wrong.”
“That’s still in place, but I need you to tell me what you remember about Pamela.”
“Hmmm…” Jackie sat the mug on the desk, looking up at the ceiling. “Not much. We selected her because she had spunk and a Texan flavor. Remember we picked the cowgirl theme for her?”
“Yes,” she sighed, guilt clogging her throat. The confused look on Brooks’s face popped in her mind, squeezing her heart. She hadn’t meant to hurt him, but pain had touched his eyes the minute he probably realized his dear sister had worn some of those props and costumes, too. I should have known. How would she? She had zero experience with relationships or dealing with men on an intimate level.
Her abuse had emotionally stunted her, and she’d pay that high price for the rest of her life. “What else do you remember?”
“I’ll go through my notes.”
“Good. Mr. Taylor should be arriving soon, and I don’t want him to wait.”
“I’ll be right back.” Jackie clutched her tablet and scurried out the door.
Alexa glanced at the paperweight a former auctionee had sent her. A bit cheesy in the shape of a graduation hat, it read in cursive letters, “I’m sharing this with you. Thank you.” She scooped it from the desk and squeezed the keepsake, feeling the cold weight on her palm.
Michele had been a grad student who needed cash badly to finish university. She’d come to Alexa, and during her first interview all but begged for an opportunity. While this behavior usually put her off, Alexa had made an exception and chosen Michele to be her virgin. Michele had made a lot of money, had finished her dream course, and had even put some money down for a condo.
Alexa had been elated for Michele’s victories. Her story wasn’t the exception. Throughout the years, House of Alexa had sent many women to college or higher education and had helped them make their dreams come true. At least, she’d given them financial independence and security. A couple of auctionees had even married the men who had bid on them. Yep. Pretty Woman on acid. Amaya and Abby both were still happily married. One to a Greek billionaire, and the other to an African king. Of course, the world didn’t know how they’d met their husbands—and Alexa did everything in her power to ensure no one ever would.
Alexa slumped her shoulders, the memory of Pamela sneaking into her mind. Somehow, Pamela had entered her building and not come out of it alive. If this information leaked out, she’d have to close her business earlier than intended. Her name would be in the news, not just in the variety section of men’s magazines. The media would destroy her, and in the process, find out her true identity.
Fear knotted inside her. Her stepfather would find out about her existence, and the fact he was behind bars didn’t soothe her at all. She didn’t want to live in a world where people could link the two of them together. She’d never escape her past.
“Alexa,” said the male baritone she’d come to recognize, making her heart race.
She swiveled her chair to face Brooks wearing a black top and denim jeans. Though his damp hair hinted at a recent shower, the rings under his eyes told her he hadn’t gotten much sleep himself. “Have a seat,” she said.
He shortened the gap between them but didn’t sit, choosing to pace the Persian rug instead. “I can’t. I’m too riled up. Where’s your assistant?”
“She’ll be right back. I told her to fetch her files. She’s up to speed.”
“Good.”
She rubbed the back of her neck, uneasiness creeping under her skin. “How are you?” she asked in a small voice, giving him a once-over.
He rubbed his eyes, then ran his fingers down his face and yawned. “Not good. I didn’t sleep much last night.”
“Listen, Brooks, we’ll do whatever we can to help you,” she said, fighting the impulse to walk up to him and give him a hug. Whoa. Where did that come from? First the small talk, and now this? She bit her lip to keep from saying something she’d regret.
“Thanks.” He inclined his head, then flashed her a look of appreciation. “I will find out what happened. That’s my promise to Pamela, and I’ll honor it. But something is getting in the way of my thoughts and common sense.”
She swallowed.
He leaned onto the desk, splaying his hands on either side. “You,” he said, the accusatory tone evident in his whisper.
She shifted in her chair, searching for the right position to handle the situation, her heart leaping up her throat. A wave of heat washed over her, and she sucked in a deep breath, the need for him turning into an ache. What to say?
“Last night after we fucked I was still so turned on, I checked into my hotel and masturbated twice, but still couldn’t sleep.”
She licked her dry lips. A sensuous light passed between them, and her heart turned over in agreement.
“I’m done screwing you one moment, then worrying about where we stand the next. I need a clear head to deal with everything that’s coming my way,” he said. “So I propose while we look into what happened and you go through with Scott’s auction, let’s keep having sex so we can work together knowing there will be some release at the end of the day.”
She stared at him, his eyes seductive and soulful. His confession clawed its way down her throat and clutched her heart, releasing a powerful rush of blood through her, revving her up inside. An affair with him could leave her hurt later, yes, but denying herself the affair messed with her brain now. “Okay.”
“Can’t hear you.”
“Fine. We’ll keep this going while you’re in Nevada.” Wasn’t she leaving as well? Maybe after she left, her memories of him would fade as she dove head first into perfecting her Spanish and assuming a new identity—using her time and wealth to help women across the globe. Women who would have no idea about the person she used to be and wouldn’t judge her.
A small smile curled his lips, and he inched closer. “Good.”
His gaze slid to her lips, anticipation filling her like air in a balloon. She angled her head, parting her mouth, ready to seal the deal with a scorching kiss.
“Excuse me.” Jackie coughed behind them.
Brooks pulled back, stood upright, and turned to meet Jackie, who had a faint red shade on her cheeks.
Alexa bit back a smile; her assistant had never seen her with a man. Thankfully, Jackie straightened her shoulders and maintained her composure, sitting across from Alexa with a folder on her lap. “What do you have?” Alexa asked.
Jackie opened the folder and handed Alexa a sheet of paper. “I’ve printed a list with names from the outsourced employees from the catering company and the security firm.” She glanced at Brooks, explaining, “They’re all required to sign in when they enter the building, for confidentiality reasons.”
Brooks finally sat next to Jackie, and the easy charm disappeared from his face. With squared shoulders and thinned lips, he paid attention to the exchange between them.
Without bothering to look, Alexa gave him the list. “Here you go.” If any of her employees had kidnapped his sister or worse, he would never forgive her. Acid spilled into her stomach, but she swallowed the sour lump in her throat and peered at Jackie, asking calmly, “What else?”
Jackie stood, then shifted from foot to foot, visibly uncomfortable with the silent threat Brooks represented against House of Alexa. “I saved the interviews we had with her on this pen drive,” she said, fishing the small device out from the folder. She handed him the folder and the pen drive.
“Thank you,” Brooks said, quick to open the folder and study its contents.
“Anything else you need?” Alexa looked at Brooks.
“Not for now,” he said.
Jackie nodded. “I need to check our liquor order, but please call
me if you need me, I’ll be in my office,” she said, before dashing out of the office.
Brooks squinted at the list, probably trying to see if he recognized any names. “This helps a lot. I know a guy I can ask to do a background check on these people and find out if any of them have any history of domestic violence or anything that could point us in the right direction.”
Alexa’s shoulders dropped a notch, temporary relief loosening the ball of tension in her stomach. At least he could count on someone with experience to help him and hopefully figure out what had happened. Did this mean he no longer needed her? The idea should have brought her further relief, but instead, her body tensed up again, worse than before. “That’s a good idea.”
“These videos…it’s strange to me…” He rubbed his temple, looking away. “If I watch them…”
Alexa rocked back in her chair. “There’s nothing sexual about them. I ask them questions and they answer. No nudity. It’s just a standard interview I review later to figure out who’s the best fit,” she said matter-of-factly. “It’s no different than the questions I asked Scott.” Inwardly, she doubted her words would comfort him. After all, he was about to see a video of his late sister. Her heart tightened in her chest.
He inched closer, and a veneer of vulnerability cloaked him, his cocoa-colored eyes a tad darker. “Will you watch them with me?”
…
Brooks popped his knuckles, jaw clenching. He’d hoped by watching the recordings he’d find some clue as to why Pamela had made that decision—to sell her virginity in an auction. Alexa had brought him to her viewing room, a small room with a projector and two oversize reclining chairs. She turned off the lights, and the ambiance reminded him of a tiny movie theater.
He was about to see Pamela in the worst light. Nausea rolled in his stomach, and cold sweat slicked his forehead.
Alexa, sitting next to him, reached out and took his hand in hers, squeezing it. “Are you sure? If you want, I can watch by myself and take notes.”
“I’m sure,” he said. He motioned to move his hand, which prompted her to clasp it more tightly, and coincidently, the nausea eased, and he breathed easier. When he’d asked her to watch the video with him, he’d repeated to himself the reason had been purely pragmatic. It’d be much easier to ask Alexa a question in real time than later.
Now, in the safety of the darkness, the truth boiled in his chest. He needed Alexa to be with him, to watch Pamela in her last video before she died. A video that no brother wanted to see his sister in.
He reached for his collar to loosen it, but when he touched his neck, it dawned on him he wore a collarless shirt. He rubbed his neck, fidgeting, having a hard time sitting still. But he remained, gathering his strength as Alexa pressed play from a remote.
The screen lit up, and the image of Pamela, wearing a blue shirt and jeans, appeared before him. She sat on a chair, like the ones in Alexa’s office, and had a mug of coffee on the side table next to her.
“Hi. I’m Pamela Johnson, twenty-five years old, from Texas.”
“I’ve read your application, Pamela. Why do you think you’d be a good fit for the auction?” Alexa’s voice sounded. He couldn’t see her on camera but could tell she was close to Pamela.
Pamela stared straight into the camera, without a flinch. “Because I’ve waited to meet a nice guy for a long time, and that hasn’t happened. So I decided to kill two birds with one stone and at least make some money off of my virginity.”
“Sounds practical enough. Do you understand whoever bids the highest will have you at their service for a maximum of thirty days? We have some rules in place to guarantee your safety—no violent acts, no sex unless you agree. But we can’t pick the highest bidder for you. He might be sixty years old, unattractive, annoying.”
“I understand. I grew up on a farm. I can work really hard, and I can certainly pretend for one month.”
“Good. Also, is there someone in your life who would be against you doing this? Your parents, a boyfriend, a concerned friend?”
The camera zoomed in on her, and Pamela looked at the floor for a moment, before facing the lenses again. “My mother has passed. No one will be concerned about me. I have no one else.”
Her words were like stones thrown at him, coming from all angles. After her mother had passed, she’d become even more aware of all she’d lost by being the unclaimed daughter of Craig Taylor. And all that Brooks had gained—the intact family, the alive mother, the wealth, the opportunities.
Suddenly, the reason why she’d done this dawned on him. “She wanted to make it on her own.”
Alexa paused the clip and looked at him. “What?”
“She wanted the money to become rich on her own, to stick it to our father, who never gave a shit about her and didn’t think she’d amount to anything.”
Alexa inched closer. “I’m so sorry,” she said.
He removed his hand from hers, drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair. “She thought she had no one else. She died believing she didn’t have anyone,” he said, sadness wrapping around him like a heavy blanket. God, he’d never forgive himself. “I always took pride in doing the right thing. In being a better brother than my father had been a father.”
Yet, none of this had mattered. He hadn’t done enough.
“Brooks. I’m showing this to you in the spirit of transparency, but don’t take her words at face value. Candidates know we ask those questions, because if they say they have a jealous boyfriend or a conservative father, we might turn them down. We don’t want any trouble, so when someone comes from a family that seems like they would come after us, we avoid that person. She knew if she mentioned you, we wouldn’t consider her.”
“All this time, I held you accountable for what happened to her. For having this platform, where she could come and sell herself.” He inclined his head, needing to say it to Alexa. His icky family had sent her to House of Alexa…and who knew, maybe she’d have gone somewhere worse. “I appreciate you asking those questions.” Could he still say Alexa didn’t care about the auctionee’s safety? No.
“Don’t dwell on it. Wherever she is now, she wouldn’t want you to feel this way.”
Alexa reached to him and encircled him in a hug, a hug he hadn’t realized he needed until he leaned his head on her shoulder and a long sigh escaped. Once again, her nearness alleviated some of his pain, his guilt, his truth. Pamela wouldn’t have turned to the auction if he’d been there for her. She’d lost her mother, and she’d never had a dad. She’d had him, and he’d been selfish and impatient. He’d expected her to go back to being the fun carefree friend she’d been before her life had changed.
He caught a whiff of Alexa’s cologne and closed his eyes, thankful for how his muscles relaxed and his brain no longer hurt. “Thank you, Alexa,” he whispered in her ear, unsure of all he was grateful for.
Chapter Ten
Alexa finger combed her hair for the tenth time, determined to ensure the waves she’d carefully curled with the styling iron looked natural and carefree. Then, she checked on the food in the kitchen.
Hours earlier, when she’d shown Brooks the video, she’d spontaneously invited him for dinner at her place. And now, she had fluffed the pillows on the sofa five times and had run between her bedroom and the living room with Olympic precision, fumbling with the decor and arrangement of flowers.
Why did all this matter? It didn’t, not one bit, but she still over-cleaned and organized her place. He wouldn’t be around for a long time, as they had discussed, so to keep him from tasting her dubious cooking, she’d ordered dinner from the French restaurant nearby and transferred the food to her serving trays to get the credit.
A warm sensation ran over her skin. When was the last time she’d had a guy over for dinner? Never.
She finger combed her hair again, this time faster, more vigorously. This is a bad idea
. They could have met at a restaurant or his hotel room.
The doorbell rang, and a thrill of excitement zapped through her. Good idea or not, she sprinted through the kitchen and foyer to open the door. A vibrant ardor spiraled inside her, and she’d never felt more alive.
When she opened the door, her heart slammed into her chest. A dark gray shirt with a V-neck clung to his muscles, and denim showcased his long legs. But the sexiest part of him, his eyes, greeted her like she was already naked and in his arms.
He carried a bottle of wine in one hand and a vase with a blue orchid in the other. “Hi, stranger. Long time no see.”
She showed him inside and took the flower from his hand. “Welcome to my hideout.”
“Thanks.” He placed the wine on the counter. “Smells fabulous. What are we having?”
“Oyster and shrimp.”
“Oysters. Hhmmm. You really want to take advantage of me tonight, don’t you Madam?”
She batted her eyelashes, feigning innocence. “Never crossed my mind.”
“By the way, I contacted my guy and sent him the list of employees who worked that night. He might take a few days to get back to me.”
“All right.”
“I’m saying it now because from now on, I don’t want to discuss the subject tonight. I want to talk about you.”
“You already know more about me than anyone else,” she said, then lifted her hand to her mouth, wishing she could take it back.
“That makes me feel special.”
“Don’t. I also say that to everyone.” She injected some sarcasm in her voice, but the glint in his eyes told her she didn’t fool him. Crap.
He winked at her. “Where’s your corkscrew?”
“First drawer to your right.” She pointed. Brooks in her kitchen, searching for the corkscrew and wineglasses squeezed a sigh out of her. She licked her lips, hungry rather than thirsty.
The Billionaire's Betrayal (Highest Bidder Book 3) Page 9