Up in Smoke (Kisses and Crimes Book 2)

by Natalie E. Wrye

  But I couldn’t lie…

  The kid had some brass ones.

  I motioned for him to follow Penelope and me down the stairs, shaking my head. Her eyes widened as she watched us, and I suppressed a grin, not wanting to encourage my irresponsible associate even further.

  Pea never took her eyes off me.

  “Just… stay close to us,” I warned Jeff. “If you wander off again, not only will I fire you… I’ll beat your ass for good measure.”

  He tailed us dutifully. “Say no more.”

  The three of us composed ourselves and paraded down the grand stairwell. Forcing one foot in front of the other, I made myself ignore the very real danger that we were almost in. I made myself ignore the mission that I was so close to botching.

  I made myself ignore the woman with whom I almost botched it.

  We reached the first floor, and I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this fucking relieved.

  I needed a drink.

  But before I could even think the word “bar,” before I could utter another word to Jeff, someone had a few of their own for me.

  Penelope whirled on me.

  “You’re not leaving now, are you?”

  “Actually,” I looked at Jeff, snagging the Chambers file out of his hand. “That’s exactly what I’m doing. I’ve had enough fun for one night, and if it’s all the same to you… I’d rather not risk the Senator’s security snipping my balls off tonight.”

  She stared at me. No, she stared at the folder in my hands, actually. Her blue eyes were suspicious and as much as I enjoyed looking into them, I needed a break from their scrutiny.

  She had no way of knowing what I was up to, and frankly, I had no intentions on telling her. But I knew she knew.

  You didn’t know someone for fifteen years and expect that they couldn’t smell the secrecy on you. It was one of the things I hated most about her… and respected the strongest.

  I needed to get the fuck away from her. Seeing her was still a shock, and honestly? I was more afraid of what I might do to her than the other way around. Her nearness was driving my sensibilities through the roof.

  I turned, walking away, and she grabbed me.

  “Jackson.” Her voice was sharp. “That’s it? You’re not going to tell me what you were doing in… there?” She looked around self-consciously. “You’re not even going to ask what I was doing in there?”

  I blinked hard. “No.”

  I turned once again, and she followed. For the first time since I’d known her, I was the one being chased. Silent, her footsteps nipped at my heels as I headed through the mansion doors and towards the curbside.

  Jeff tagged along wordlessly, a satisfied grin on his face. And outside we went: the “Joker,” the Batman and his infamous lady love. The irony was so thick you could pour it on pancakes.

  I stopped at the pavement as an eager valet approached with a smile.

  “Need your car, sir?”

  “No.” I shook my head, motioning to Pea. “But the lady does…”

  “Wha…?”

  “Dark blue BMW,” I cut in. “New York tags. License plate AJK450.” I nodded towards the young guy. “Thanks.”

  Penelope opened her mouth, gaping, and I cut off her unspoken question with a swift hand to her waist. I placed it there, swooping in with the other one before she could speak. I kissed her forehead.

  As I had a million times before.

  I whispered.

  “Notice the man to your left?” I moved my lips over her brow. “He’s been watching us since we came down the stairs. Threesomes aren’t a big deal around here, but they are when there are no obvious signs of ‘foreplay’ involved. We don’t exactly give off the swinging vibe. He’s got curious eyes.” I pulled back, looking down at her. “I need you to leave before I blacken one of them.”

  Penelope flinched and before she could say anything else, the sound of approaching wheels interrupted, the soft crunch of sliding rubber over gravel echoing quietly beside us.

  The valet hopped out. I tipped him generously and slid Penelope in his place. Her hips were in my hands before she even realized it.

  I sat her down. Standing at her door, I reached over to buckle her seat belt. As I did, my hands touched the tip of one of her hard nipples.

  I could feel the heat from her blush.

  Her voice was hushed.

  “I’ve been trying to reach you, Jackson.”

  “So I see.”

  “I’m not going to let you get away so easily.” Her breath was cool on my cheek. “Tell me where to find you.” Her eyes were pleading.

  She wouldn’t beg. Couldn’t. But her eyes always gave her away. Those dark blue gems were the windows to her soul, and at the moment, I could see right into it.

  As always, it stole my goddamned breath.

  I retreated, taking a step back from her doorway. I slammed her blue driver’s door shut and leaned into the window.

  “Don’t worry. Being back in New York has made you easier to find. Not for nothing will I always know where to find you when I want to. Right now, I want to.”

  I tapped her chin.

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  AN OLD FLAME

  PENELOPE

  The stove was scorching to the touch. Smoke filled the room.

  I slapped at rising flames, trying to smother the blazing grease fire I had just started. Waving a dishtowel, choking on the acrid smell of carbon dioxide, I couldn’t believe how perfectly a kitchen accident was mirroring my life.

  I was going to die.

  I was going to die of smoke inhalation and a potential heart attack because the one person I never expected Bishop to tell… he told.

  I specifically told Bishop not to tell anyone, and what does he do? He tells…him.

  And now I’d stubbed my toe, dropped my food on a gas stove flame and nearly singed my eyebrows off because in the middle of my lunch hour, during the one peaceful time I’d managed to sneak to myself all day, I’d been rudely interrupted.

  And not just by anybody…

  It had been ten years. Ten years since I’d seen Jackson Reed and he had waltzed right into my apartment as if he belonged there.

  He was taller than I remembered—broader. His dark blond hair was buzzed into a military cut, and a layer of scruff covered the lower half of his face that hadn’t been there when he was just a teenager.

  I’d been just a teen… when I loved him. At twenty-seven I should have been immune to his charms. I should have kicked him the fuck out. I should have done anything besides what I had done.

  He smiled at me. He told me “Hi.”

  And you know what I did when I saw him…?

  I said “Hi” right back.

  And that’s when the phone rang.

  My body was jolted, ripped from a dream that was more memory than anything else. I raised my head up off a pile of papers on my desk.

  Dazed, confused about my whereabouts, it took me half a second to realize that I was in my office. That I wasn’t in D.C. and that I wasn’t in the apartment that I had nearly burned down four years ago.

  That all happened back in Washington. Back when I was just starting out.

  Making it in D.C. had been a dream, and back then I felt like I was living it. The apartment I now lived in, in Manhattan, was much bigger than that… and ten times more lonely.

  I was only reminded of it on nights like this.

  Nights when I secretly waited for his call.

  And as had become customary for the past half-week, my heart skipped a beat when I realized my phone was actually ringing.

  I reached for it, clearing my throat behind my desk, as I prepared myself for what undoubtedly would be a hard conversation. I didn’t even check the caller ID.

  If I had… I would never have picked up.

  “Penelope Castalano,” I declared.

  “Hello, Penny.” Her voice was fiery ice.

  “Hello, Governor Price.”

&
nbsp; “Long time, no speak.” The voice on the other end of the line was clipped. “I’m surprised you picked up.”

  “I am, too. I’m knee-deep in briefs.” Lie. “But if you need me, I can always make an exception for you. I’ve decided to give Sienna a bit of a break today.”

  “Lucky Sienna.” She paused, delaying the conversation. “I want to talk to you about Senator Fletcher, Penelope.”

  “The senator?” My pulse quickened. “What about the senator?”

  “I take it you have everything set-up perfectly for Tuesday’s meeting?”

  My heart slowed. Just a bit. Define “perfectly.”

  “Yes.” I faked a smile that no one could see. “Everything’s in order. I talked to his assistant. It’s on his schedule.”

  “His schedule?” she inquired, half-amused. “I wouldn’t call his hell-ish habits this month a ‘schedule’ but I understand your sentiment all the same…”

  I nodded, knowing she couldn’t see it.

  We were two and a half weeks away from election night. All the polls had the senator slated to win. The senator’s offices were inextricably intertwined with the governor’s… and I’d just used my own boss’s invitation to get inside of the Senator’s private mansion.

  Truth be told… Governor Shelly Price was the most important and well-respected client I’d ever had. I was an experienced lawyer at the firm when she’d taken an interest in me years ago, and I’d used my connection to her to swipe her invitation to the senator’s Halloween ball after she declined.

  Since then, I’d been avoiding her. And Jackson had been avoiding me.

  The governor’s call two days after the party had been brief. The call was disconnected from it before we could delve into any real details, and from the way she was saying my name, I knew she wasn’t letting today’s phone call drop.

  The fact that she purrrrrred my name tipped me off.

  The governor’s “tell” was interwoven in the intonation of her silky voice. She could use that voice to uplift the entire state of New York. But she could just as easily use it to cut you down to size.

  Today, as we spoke, she was taking little swipes at me with her weapon of choice. Like a pro, I took the quick stabbing, and I let her words cut me for as long as I could before I interrupted.

  “Are you going to cut me any slack, or am I going to have to beg here, Shelly?”

  I could tell. She knew I’d swiped her invitation. Today she was going to be the “bitter cow” she’d been called a few times in D.C., and with the way things were looking, my ass was grass.

  I was too stubborn for my own good. I’d compromised my boss’s agenda so that I could pursue my own, and not only was I going to get fired for it, but I had failed at accomplishing my own mission.

  But at least I could go out with a little bit of dignity. I steeled my chin, waiting for the final blow. After Jackson’s rejection and now Governor Price’s… I knew it would be the only thing I had left.

  I waited on the line.

  “Yes,” the governor finally declared. “You are going to have to beg.” She paused. “On your knees. Over gravel. And for as long as I say so… for missing my tenth anniversary party.”

  My heart slammed.

  Relief breathed life into my lungs, and I took a breath that expanded my chest to twice its size. Holy shit. Her anniversary party… She’s upset that I missed her anniversary party. I forgot that it was this weekend.

  That was why she was currently chomping on my ass. I grinned into the receiver.

  “You missed me that much, governor?”

  “Only your deviled eggs.” She laughed low. “Seriously, Penny. I was looking forward to you being there. I’d been planning that party for an entire year.”

  I shook my head.

  “I’m sorry, Shelly. One of these days, I’ll make it up to you.”

  “You know how you can make it up to me…?”

  I waited.

  “By attending my meeting with the senator.” She inhaled. “Fletcher’s on edge about a possible slip in the polls, and I need someone to help me stay on task.”

  I tried to speak.

  “And not only that,” she interrupted quickly. “I need the best. And Pen, you’re the best. We have to put our full resources behind him. He is our incumbent senator, and we need to make nice.”

  Make nice. I couldn’t express how much I didn’t want to “make nice” with Fletcher.

  Not with a man whose dealings were dirtier than the devil’s. Not with a man who almost ruined my life four years ago, and did his best to ruin my best friend Bishop’s.

  Make nice? I would never make anything with that man… but I would never tell the governor that. So I smiled. And then I agreed. And then I hung up before she could pull me in further. I placed the phone back on the receiver.

  Sienna’s heel clicking at my doorway matched the sound of my ending phone line.

  “Bad day?”

  “Bad decade,” I answered.

  “Anything I can do to help?” she asked, leaning against the wooden door frame.

  I shrugged, placing my forehead on my desk once more. I could hear the underlying excitement in Sienna’s voice. She was practically salivating. I grunted.

  “Tequila?” she crooned.

  I peered up at her, and our eyes met. I nodded.

  “Tequila.”

  FIGHTING FIRE WITH FIRE

  PENELOPE

  Sienna was right.

  Her bar around the corner, the one she’d been dying to take me to, was just what I needed.

  The men were hot, the drinks were strong, and Sienna’s stomach was even stronger. A fourth Patrón shot of the night had set the tone for laughs and liquor. By the time I was on the fifth, I could no longer taste the bite from the tequila, and I’d thrown away the salt and lime along with any inhibitions.

  I talked to Sienna about things I probably shouldn’t have…

  I slammed my shot glass on the bar.

  “You can’t keep letting this happen,” Sienna shot at me.

  “What?”

  “This,” she motioned in the air. “Getting riled up. Letting a little phone call throw you off your game.”

  “It didn’t.” I gripped the edge of the bar. “I’m not letting that phone call ruin my day.” I giggled, starting to laugh.

  The liquor was definitely kicking in.

  “I’m not talking about the phone call you received.” My secretary tapped me. “I’m talking about the one you didn’t.”

  I froze, lowering my shot glass as the young brunette stared at me. She was right. The conversation with the governor had certainly shook me up, but it was nothing compared to what I was really upset about.

  He said he’d be in touch.

  I knew better than to believe in his promises, but as I always had, some piece of me thought that this time would be different. Every time Jackson Reed disappointed me, I’d swear that it would be the last.

  But it never was.

  And I hated myself for being so sensitive to his whims. I circled a finger in the air for another round. I sighed.

  “I don’t know why I let him do this to me.”

  Sienna blew out air, waving a hand dismissively.

  “Ugh. Exes always do that.”

  “He’s not my…” I stopped. Well, technically, he was, but he hadn’t been for a very long time.

  Even at eighteen, the burgeoning man I knew was experienced beyond his years. At sixteen, I was an inexperienced, loud-mouthed virgin, and in one summer, he had turned me into a woman.

  He was napalm to my nerves—always had been. And a part of me must have loved the torture. Even hating him, I’d never stopped coming back for more. God, how I wanted to just forget him.

  And Sienna read me like a book. She nudged me.

  “Come on,” she beckoned. “We’re not going to do this. We’re not going to share our sob stories. We’re not going to cry into our tequilas. We’re going to dance.”

>   I slumped at the bar. “We are?”

  “Yes.” She stood. “And we’re going to mingle and flirt with guys and the bartender won’t be the only one serving up ‘Buttery Nipples.’”

  I glanced at her quickly and she shrugged, but I followed anyway.

  The small dance space before the bar was crowded. Old wooden boards lined the floor beneath our feet and we navigated over them clumsily, moving our feet to the beat of the music, letting the rhythm guide our hips as we tried to swing them.

  In business attire, fresh from a day’s work, we were more out of place than in, our pencil skirts no match for the sea of mini ones we were surrounded by. But I didn’t care.

  God had given me legs, tequila had given me tempo, and I was going to use both to forget today. To forget the senator. To forget Jackson. And I was well on my way when a pair of hands settled around my waist, gripping me from behind.

  A nose pressed against my neck, right below my hairline, breathing me in. I turned… and found myself staring into the blackest pair of eyes I’d ever seen. His accent overwhelmed me when he spoke.

  “ ‘ello, there, m’lady. Looks like you could use a partner.”

  The stranger smiled, and his eyes creased deeply at the corners. I could see my reflection in their deep, dark depths, and it was all I could do not to stare.

  And it wasn’t that he was attractive… because he wasn’t. His skin was fleshy, the whites of his eyes were slightly yellowed, and he had more lines on his face than a man his age probably should have.

  He looked to be sort of handsome once… maybe, but the signs of alcoholism were apparent on his face. I knew. I’d seen a face like this once before.

  That face was one too similar to Jackson’s. This one wasn’t, but it unnerved me all the same.

  I backed up from the man, suddenly wanting to be anywhere but where I was. The man with the cockneyed voice was standing way too damn close, and the familiarity with which he touched me was making my skin crawl.

  My eyes were glued to his face. My stare hardened into a scowl.

  “Do I know you?” I asked.

  The leering dark-haired stranger flashed a toothy grin.