Sleeping With My Boss: A Standalone Novel (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (A Dirty Office Romance)

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Sleeping With My Boss: A Standalone Novel (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (A Dirty Office Romance) Page 107

by Adams,Claire


  We set up another meeting before his arraignment the following week, and I gathered my things and headed down toward the office. I was walking across the courtyard when I saw something that stopped me in my tracks.

  Two men were standing near the edge of the sidewalk. I was too far away to hear what we were saying, but the man facing me looked agitated and the man with his back to me was waving his arms as he talked. They were both well dressed, and I absolutely recognized the one facing me as Alex. The other, although I couldn’t see his face, closely resembled Jack. I stood watching for a minute hoping the man would turn towards me.

  They seemed to have reached a boiling point though and the man facing away from me pushed his body up against Alex in an aggressive nature. I was sure we were about to come to blows when suddenly, the other man stepped back and shoved past Alex, taking off down the sidewalk at a hurried pace.

  Alex stood there watching him go for a few seconds, and then glancing in both directions quickly, he hurried across the street away from the courtyard. His eyes skimmed across me, but the courtyard was already filling with people in business attire and I don’t think he realized it was me.

  I was confused. I didn’t think that Alex and Jack knew each other. What could they possibly have to argue about? I told myself that maybe I had been mistaken about it being Jack. After all, I hadn’t seen the other man’s face. Maybe it hadn’t been Jack at all, but whoever it was is not a fan of Alex, that was for sure.

  I continued my walk to the office, and when I saw the reporters out front, I cringed. Fortunately, our security was there, as well, and they forced the crowd to clear a path for me to the door. They couldn’t stop the reporters from yelling out their intrusive and insulting questions and comments, however.

  “Ms. Winston, did Mr. Hanson kill his wife? Are you sleeping with him? Were you sleeping with him while we were still together? Was he getting back together with her? Did you assault her in your office yesterday?”

  I had seen plenty of media circuses in my few years as an attorney, but had never been at the center of one myself. It was disturbing, but I tried to practice what I always told my clients, “Hold your head up, act like they’re not there, don’t respond, and don’t take any of it personally.” My own advice was harder to take than I had ever known. Just as the door was opened for me by the building doorman, Rose Dugan came up behind me and asked,

  “Ms. Winston, did you kill Marjorie Hanson?”

  I looked in her direction, but thankfully caught myself before I replied. Don’t let her get to you, I told myself and continued into the office. I breathed a long sigh of relief as the doors swung closed behind me.

  Carla was at her desk as usual with my messages sorted and ready for me. As she said good morning and handed them to me, she asked, “How are you doing?”

  I smiled at her. “I see you’ve heard what happened last night?” When she nodded, I said, “I’m doing as well as you would expect. I do appreciate you asking.”

  Once I was in my office with the door closed and hopefully the world shut out for the time being, I took out my file on Miles V. I flipped through the pages until I got to the statements that Miles IV and his daughter had given to police the day after Miles’ third wife was killed. I winced as I read the words the police had taken down as they spoke to Miles IV.

  “Mr. Brigham, why was your wife out climbing in the wilderness, along a steep cliff, alone?”

  “Because she was a spoiled, selfish little viper,” Miles had told them, as if a matter of fact.

  “And by that, you mean what?” the detective had asked him.

  “Just what the hell I said. We had an argument, about money, again. She spent my money like there was going to be no end to it. We had planned on a climbing trip that day to de-stress. What a joke that was. I got to listen to her bitch and whine and pout until I could hardly stand it any longer. She gave me an out by telling me to go on and leave her alone. I did just that. When I got back to the lodge later and found out she hadn’t returned, though, I went right back out to look for her.”

  “And discovered her, dead,” the detective had said. “Mr. Brigham, do you believe your wife’s death was an accident?”

  “If you’re asking me if I think someone killed her, the answer is no. No one cared enough about her to even expend the energy, I think. She just shouldn’t a been out there alone. She was stupid, plain and simple. I was stupid to for leaving her out there and I feel bad about that, but you have to believe me that girl was proof positive you can take the girl outta the trailer, but you can’t take the trailer outta the girl.”

  It went on like that for three pages. I sat it down for a few seconds and massaged the leftover headache behind my eyes.

  I just couldn’t believe that a man could be so smart in business and finance that he had amassed a veritable fortune, and yet he could also be completely ignorant to the fact that you couldn’t just go around saying whatever you felt like, giving no consideration to what it may make people think of you or what the consequences may be. I was about to pick the file back up to continue reading when my phone rang. It was the investigator, Brett.

  “Ms. Winston, I found out why the feds are interested in David Tyler.”

  “Why?” I asked, anxious to hear the answer.

  “Mr. Tyler apparently has some information with regards to a fortune in missing campaign contributions. Mr. Brigham’s money was apparently not the only funds Mr. Landon had misappropriated, and Tyler has agreed to testify before the Grand Jury regarding all of that, as well as naming others that were allegedly involved.”

  “Wow,” I said with a sigh. “This thing is a lot bigger than I thought.”

  “Do you want me to keep digging?” Brett asked. “Maybe see if I can come up with some names of people he’s fingering, stuff like that?”

  “Yes, Brett, thanks,” I told him. I hung up and tried to sort out my thoughts. I was starting to get more than a feeling that somehow everything that was happening led back to the oil spill. That was where this mess had all started. Miles was being sued by some very angry people. Vick was stealing from some very powerful people. Lots of them had motive to want Vick dead, and many of them also had motive to want Miles to be blamed for that murder.

  I hated to think it, but even Alex had a stake in all of this. Once Vick was killed, Alex was able to step right into his position as campaign manager for the President of the United States. That was a position that some people would kill for.

  I shook off that thought. I was being silly and as Adam had said this morning, a little paranoid. Alex was Adam’s good friend. He wasn’t a murderer.

  I thought about Marjorie then. How did she tie in to all of this, or did she at all? Was her murder, coming so close on the heels of Vick’s, just a coincidence? None of it was making much sense to my tired brain.

  I looked at the clock and realized it was mid-afternoon. I hadn’t eaten a thing all day. I grabbed my purse, and decided to take a walk to the sandwich kiosk down the street. As I stepped outside of the office, I took a deep breath of the fresh, cold air. The reporters had disbursed some, and the few that were left yelled out some questions at me that I let fall on deaf ears. I took my time walking. The city was decorated beautifully for the Christmas season. I strolled along and tried to lose my stress in the beauty all around me.

  When I got to the kiosk, I ordered a turkey sandwich and a coffee. I took them to a bench in the little park across the street and sat down. Just as I was about to take a bite, I heard Jack’s voice, again, “Hi.”

  I looked up at him. I didn’t want to be angry or suspicious right then so I just said, “Hi.”

  “May I join you?” he asked, holding out a sandwich and coffee he had in his hands.

  “Sure,” I told him. “I’m not the best company today, though.”

  “It’s alright,” Jack told me sounding sincere. “I understand you’ve been through a lot. How is Adam holding up?”

  I studied his fa
ce, trying to ascertain if he was still being sincere. I didn’t see anything threatening there, however, so I said, “He’s doing as well as can be expected, I guess. It’s been a rough couple of days.”

  “I can’t imagine,” Jack said between bites of his sandwich. “The news reports are calling him a ‘person of interest’ in Marjorie’s death. Did you see the press conference today?”

  “No…what press conference?” I’d suddenly lost my appetite.

  Between bites of his sandwich, Jack said, “The Chief of Detectives was asked by one of the reporters if Adam was a suspect. He said no, however, Adam was a person of interest.”

  I knew well from my job that being a person of interest in a murder case was not good. What it technically meant was that the police had no evidence that Adam was involved, however, they had strong suspicions about him. What it said to the public unfortunately was that Adam was guilty, and the police just didn’t have enough evidence to convict him. It was a term that could very well ruin a person’s life.

  I had defended a man not long ago in a civil suit who had been declared a person of interest in the death of his wife. That man had lost his job; his friends and family no longer wanted to have anything to do with him. His credit was ruined, and the worst part as far as I was concerned, was that I had firmly believed he was innocent.

  “I’m sorry, Jack,” I said as I got up from the bench. “I need to get back to the office.”

  Jack stood, as well. “I am really sorry I upset you,” he said. “It wasn’t my intention.”

  “I know,” I told him. “I just need to get back to work. I’ll speak to you later.”

  He said okay and I began to walk away. I got a few steps down the sidewalk and turned back around. “Jack, do you know a man named Alex Fritz?”

  “Hmm, the name sounds familiar, but I can’t place it. Who is he?” I wasn’t sure, but I thought there was a slight change in Jack’s demeanor. He looked worried or anxious, maybe.

  “Just a friend of Adam’s,” I told him. “I thought maybe I saw you with him earlier today. I must have been mistaken.” With that, I turned back around and continued my walk back to the office.

  I waited until I was almost a block away before glancing back again. The man I had seen arguing with Alex this morning had been wearing a black suit and overcoat. When I looked back, Jack was walking away in the other direction. The overcoat was thrown over his arm, and his black suit really stood out against the light cover of snow on the ground. I was sure it was him.

  I continued on my walk back to work, stopping at a small newsstand about a block from the office. The little Chinese man who waited on me could barely speak English, yet he knew enough to point at the front page and say, “The lady looks like you.”

  I gave him a tight smile paid for my paper, tucking it under my arm as I went on my way. When I was back in the safety of my office, I opened it. There was Adam and I on the front page. It was mostly me since I had turned to look at Rose Dugan. Adam was holding my hand, but he was still facing the other way and trying to pull me along behind him.

  The look on my face was sure to not win me any fans. Rose’s question about the fight with Marjorie had thrown me off guard. I was looking at the camera with daggers in my eyes. Not exactly the face of a woman who was broken up about the loss of a life that had just taken place.

  I folded it closed with the intention of tossing it in the recycle bin, but then with a heavy sigh I opened it once again. I was compelled to see what Rose Dugan had written. I hated to, but I had to admit that the girl was good. Although she used words that would float heavy suspicion around both Adam and I, she was very careful to state only facts and nothing that we could possibly use later in a libel suit.

  For instance, there was no mention of the fight. It had only been witnessed by Carla and since I was sure that it must have been Marjorie who had given her the information, the informant was now dead and wouldn’t be here to back it up in court if it had come to that.

  My headache was growing again. I still had so much to do, both here at work and to get ready for my parents’ visit. I hadn’t even gone grocery shopping yet. Tossing the paper in the recycle bin where I should have put it in the first place and glancing at the gorgeous diamond that Adam had placed on my finger only the night before for strength, I got back to work.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ADAM

  I tried to make it through the day without bothering Alicia, but it was sucking so badly about two p.m. that I had to at least hear her voice to make it through the rest of it. Carla buzzed her for me and when Alicia answered, I instantly felt better.

  “Hi, baby,” I said, “how’s your day going?”

  “Well, not my best day ever,” she told me. “Better now that I’m hearing your voice. And yours?”

  I sighed. “I’ve also definitely had better days. I’ve gotten about a hundred phone calls today. Some of them are saying ‘Ding Dong the Witch is dead,’ and others are acting like they believe I killed her. I suppose you’ve seen the news?”

  “Yes, I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m just glad I have you,” I told her. “I wouldn’t know what to do if you decided all of this was too much. Not that I would blame you.”

  “Oh, Adam, that is not going to happen. This is not your fault. You are a victim here, too.”

  “Well, I definitely don’t say this often enough, but I appreciate you, and I love you, and I need you.”

  “You’re right,” she said with a laugh. “You don’t say it often enough. Will you be staying with me again tonight?”

  “If it’s okay. Detective Samuels called earlier. He says I can probably go home tomorrow…just in time for your parents to come into the country and not find you harboring a ‘person of interest’ in a murder case.”

  Alicia groaned. I knew she couldn’t be looking forward to that conversation. She changed the subject and said, “I have to go grocery shopping this afternoon. How about I make us a nice dinner?”

  “Sounds like just what I need. I should be there by about seven, if that will work?”

  “Perfect. And Adam...”

  “Yes?”

  “I love, need, and appreciate you, too,”

  “I know,” I said with a little laugh. “How could you not?”

  I felt so much better after I had hung up the phone. I had something to look forward to tonight, something so simple, but a definite change from where my head had been at ten minutes earlier. I got back to work with the sound of her voice in my head. I could get through this, with Alicia’s help.

  ********

  Alicia already had the table set with candles and a hot meal waiting when I got to her place. She never fails to amaze me. I took her into my arms and just held her for a few minutes, breathing in her energy. When I let her go, I kissed her lips softly, and then my eyes landed on a copy of the National Inquisitor lying on the counter. Alicia’s picture was on the front of it but they had done something to it with photoshop.

  “Baby, why did you buy that crap?” I went over and picked it up. They had transposed a picture of Marjorie into the shot and it looked like Alicia was glaring at her. The words above it said, “Maybe Looks Can Kill.”

  “I don’t know. I guess I figured it would be one less in circulation. Or, I’m a glutton for punishment. It’s awful.”

  I tossed it face down on the counter. “It’s trash.”

  “I know. I’m handling this all as well as I can, I promise.”

  I took her back into my arms. I felt slightly ashamed that touching her was turning me on at a time like this. She just sincerely overwhelmed me. “I’m sorry. I know you are,” I told her.

  She pulled back and said, “Let’s sit down.” We took our seats at the table and she picked up her napkin as she said, “On my way home from the office, I went by the store to buy groceries. The simple and mundane task of shopping for my home made me feel better at first. It was so…normal and that was all I really wanted lately.
<
br />   “All that was shattered suddenly when I got into line to pay for my things. The lady in front of me kept staring when she didn’t think I was looking, she snapped a picture of me on her phone. I was confused until I looked to the right and saw these awful rags there.”

  “I’m so sorry I’ve pulled you into all of this.”

  “I don’t blame you, Adam, really. It’s just…surreal, I guess.”

  “Yes, it is. How about we try and make tonight as normal as we can?”

  She held up her wine glass and I picked up mine. She clinked her glass to mine and said, “To normal.”

  “To normal.” We drank and then started in on the delicious meal she’d made.

  Afterwards, I helped her clean up the kitchen and made a fire while she got the dessert ready. She came out with two plates of strawberry shortcake, and we ate and talked about one of our cases that had nothing to do with Miles or Marjorie or anything remotely close to either of them.

  Once we finished our dessert, she wanted to watch a chick flick on DVD. I agreed, but I really had other “normal” things on my mind. I was working her clothes off of her once again. I had her blouse up under her arms and was going for her bra strap when she sat up and said, “Are we finished with the movie?”

  I unhooked the bra and when her breast spilled out, I took one in my hand and rolled the nipple as I looked into her eyes and said, “You can go ahead and watch it if you like.”

  She sucked in a hard breath. “I might be slightly distracted by what you’re doing.”

  “You want me to stop?”

  She moaned. “No…not even a little bit.”

  I grabbed one of her hands with my free one and pressed it to the front of my pants. “Good.” She groaned again and started rubbing me. I leaned in to kissed her hard, and at some point, I stood up and picked her up with me. She wrapped her sexy legs around my waist and I carried her down the hall to the bedroom.

 

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