Dirty Scandal

by Amelia Wilde

  God knows what Charlie would do.

  “The Hamptons it is,” Jett said, and he reels off several instructions to Stuart as he climbs out of the driver’s seat to open the doors for us.

  All weekend at Jett’s absurdly large mansion in the Hamptons, I force down the urge to tell him everything and beg him to drive me to the airport. Charlie might not know where my brother is, but I do—and if you know where to look, he wouldn’t be hard to find.

  Maybe I should have told Adam to hide, to go somewhere nobody would think of looking, but of course that hadn’t been on my mind. I was the idiot who thought that silence meant his involvement was over.

  I compromise by calling Adam on Sunday while Jett’s in the shower. He picks up on the third ring, laughter in his voice.

  “What’s up, Angie?”

  “You haven’t seen anybody following you, have you?” The moment I hear my brother’s voice, all of my carefully planned words fly right out of my head.

  “No. Why?” I can hear him swallow worriedly over the phone. “Did...did something happen?”

  “Charlie found out you left the city, and he’s not happy.”

  There’s a short pause, then, “I’m coming back today.”

  “Don’t!”

  “What the fuck, Angie? You can’t expect me to stay here while you’re all—”

  “What are you going to do, Adam? Be a sitting duck in your apartment, or at the bar?” I take in a deep breath, let it out. “I don’t have a lot of time to talk, but… listen, it’s taking longer than I thought to resolve all this, and if you’re here, Charlie’s going to use you against me. Be on the lookout. He made it seem like they were trying to find you.”

  “Okay,” Adam says, his voice tight. “But what the hell? This was supposed to be a one-time thing.”

  I can’t keep the exasperation out of my voice. “We both know that’s bullshit.” I hear the shower turn off in the bathroom. “I have to go. Be careful. I love you.”

  “I will. Love you, too.”

  “Angelica?”

  I drop my phone guiltily onto the surface of the bed as Jett strides in from the master bathroom, gloriously naked, ripped abs on full display, toweling off his dark hair and grinning at me.

  “Hey,” I say. No matter what’s happening, the sight of him like this takes my breath away. It would break my heart if I let it—the thought that sooner rather than later, this is all going to come crashing down around me like a plane that’s lost both of its engines.

  “You’re still dressed,” he says, pursing his lips, then steps over to me and takes the end of the belt of my robe in his hands.

  I look down as if I’m only now noticing the blushing pink silk robe I threw on over my naked self when we climbed out of bed earlier this morning. “I guess I am....”

  “Don’t worry,” Jett says, undoing the belt and sliding the robe off my shoulders. “I can help.” He kisses me softly, tasting minty and happy, and for a minute I forget myself in the depths of his kiss. The robe drops to the floor and pools around my feet.

  “Now I’m totally naked,” I say, curling my arms around his neck.

  “You’re right. We should get back in bed.”

  He scoops me up in his arms and deposits me, laughing, onto the rumpled sheets, then he climbs in after me. “I don’t care.”

  “You don’t care about what?”

  “That we’re going to be late getting back to the city.”

  Jett laughs, then leans down and runs his tongue along my collarbone before kissing his way up the side of my neck. “Late? Do you have plans?”

  Yes. I need to download the latest information from your computer and then make plans to give it to the leader of a crime ring.

  “Being with you.”

  “That’s the only plan I’m interested in.” He traces a finger around my nipple, making it stand out from the swell of my breast, and his skin against mine sends an electric jolt of need straight down between my legs.

  It’s several hours before we leave for the city.

  Monday hits me like a sucker punch.

  The instructions from Charlie come in at noon. A different cafe, 5:15. The flash drive burns a hole in my purse. He doesn’t mention Adam or my mom. Is that a good sign or not?

  I push the fearful thought out of my head and bury myself into the latest work project, generating content for one of the websites that is scheduled to go live at the end of the week. Hadley must be busy saving Sisterspark from imminent bankruptcy because she doesn’t interrupt me once.

  I think I’m home free until 5:05, when I hurry through the front doors of the high rise where Sisterspark’s offices are housed...and find Jett leaning against his Town Car, arms crossed over his chest, smiling at me like today is the best day of his life.

  I’m smiling back at him before I can stop myself, even though my entire body goes hot at the prospect of standing Charlie up. Hot, and then ice cold.

  “Jett Brandon,” I say, stepping up to him and kissing him hard. “This is a surprise.”

  “I left early to pick you up.” He reaches down and opens the back door of the Town Car. “It occurred to me that we ended the weekend too early.”

  “Yes, we did.”

  While Jett is sliding in beside me and pulling the car door closed, I slip my phone out of my purse and send a hasty text to Charlie. The answer comes back right away.

  Have it to me before the sun comes up.

  26

  Jett

  Something causes me to wake me up in the middle of the night.

  The digital clock integrated into the smooth surface of the bedside table reads 3:17.

  Angelica is not in bed.

  It’s the first time in weeks I’ve woken up without her next to me. Not that I’ve been waking up at night. She’s insatiable. We fell asleep around midnight after our final round of sex, one in which she reveled like a woman possessed.

  She was riding me, lifting her hips up and down so powerfully I thought I might come right then. Angelica ground down onto me, her muscles clenching around my cock, and then, with a gasp, she rolled over onto her back.

  “Pin me,” she said breathlessly. “My arms. Please....”

  What was I going to do, deny the lady’s request?

  There was a kind of desperation in her eyes, a kind of hope, but there was no way in hell I was going to stop to chat.

  Her final orgasm of the night was a shuddering, ecstatic thing, and afterward she’d curled away from me, sighing, stretching, burrowing herself underneath the covers.

  It was the most natural thing in the world to fit my body to hers and fall asleep.

  Which is why it’s so jarring that she’s not here.

  I squint into the dark. There’s no light coming from around the bathroom door.

  Maybe she left it off. It’s the middle of the night, after all.

  But there’s no sound from the bathroom, no door opening, no padding feet.

  Where the hell is she?

  I throw my legs over the side of the bed, wiping the sleep from my eyes. If something’s wrong, why didn’t she wake me up? I don’t need that much beauty sleep, for God’s sake.

  The boxers I discarded before our little marathon are bunched on the carpet next to the bed. I could hunt for her without them for the pleasure of watching her eyes sparkle when she looks up and down my naked body, but if something is wrong—maybe she’s sick and embarrassed about it—that approach might fall flat. So I pull them on and grab a fresh t-shirt from one of the drawers in my walk-in closet.

  She’s not in any of the rooms in the master suite. The bathroom is empty and still, and so is the den.

  That leaves the rest of the penthouse.

  The running lights at the baseboards illuminate the floor enough for me to make my way through the penthouse. She’s not in my office, or the second bathroom, or the guest bedroom. In the living room, ambient light from the skyscrapers of Manhattan casts a glow to the room.

>   No Angelica.

  She’s also not in the guest suite on the opposite end of the floor, or the kitchen, or the massive pantry.

  I’m standing in the middle of the kitchen listening to the silence when I hear the front door swing open.

  My heart beats faster.

  The door clicks as she closes it behind her, and then there’s a beep as the lock engages. I told her what the code was the day she worked from home in case she needed to go out without me.

  For some reason I’d been holding out hope that Angelica had fallen asleep in one of the many overstuffed armchairs I’ve got scattered throughout the penthouse, but when I cross the living room toward the foyer, she’s fully dressed and slowly, carefully hanging her purse back on the hook, taking her shoes off without a sound.

  When she turns to creep back to the bedroom, she catches sight of me in the dim light and gasps so sharply it could be a quiet scream. Her hands fly to her mouth.

  It takes her a moment to recover.

  “Jett, you scared the shit out of me.”

  “What’s going on?”

  She drops her hands to her sides, then lifts one up and rubs at her forehead. “I had to run out.”

  “At three in the morning?”

  “Two-thirty in the morning, actually.”

  I cross my arms in front of my chest. What is happening right now? “Why didn’t you wake me up? Whatever it was, I could have sent someone.”

  Angelica shakes her head, then blows out a breath through pursed lips. “Not...really.” She shifts her weight to the side, then steps over to me, putting both hands one of my forearms. Her eyes are wide in the darkness. “My brother is having some trouble.”

  We’ve talked about her brother before, but she didn’t mention the fact that he lives in the city.

  “He’s in the city?”

  She hesitates for a split second. “Yeah. He lives here. Life has always been more difficult for him than it is for me. It’s been a rough time for him lately.” Angelica leans down and kisses my arm between her hands. “I didn’t want to bother you,” she says softly, and my heart turns over in my chest.

  “It’s all right.” I kiss the top of her head, then put my arm around her shoulders. “Is your brother going to be okay?”

  “For tonight, yeah. I told him things would be better in the morning.”

  “Good advice.” I start walking us back toward the bedroom. “I think we should sleep on it.”

  Angelica laughs, sounding tired, relieved...and something else that I can’t put my finger on. “I agree. So much.”

  We move through the darkness of the penthouse together, Angelica leaning her head against my shoulder. It feels so right my heart nearly explodes.

  And yet...

  Something pricks in the back of my mind. It’s odd that she decided to sneak out without leaving a note, or even sending me a text that I’d see when I woke up. She was trying so hard not to make any noise when she came back....

  I try to shake off the doubt. When she strips off her clothes and climbs back into bed next to me, I almost succeed.

  Almost.

  27

  Angelica

  I met Charlie three blocks from Jett’s penthouse in front of a bagel shop that’s open twenty-four hours. He lurked in the shadows, hidden away from the light that poured through the front windows, wearing shorts and a black hoodie. The sight of him sent a shiver down my spine. I was glad for the yoga pants and three-quarter length shirt I pulled on in the dark of Jett’s bedroom.

  I was next to him in seconds, shoving the flash drive into his hand. “Here.”

  He clicked his tongue. “Someone’s in a pissy mood.”

  “It’s almost three in the morning.”

  Charlie shrugged, spreading his hands wide in front of him. “You’re the one who blew me off earlier.

  “Yeah.”

  Looking at him, in front of that stupid bagel shop…it was too much. All of it. The sneaking around in the middle of the night, lying to the man I love—

  The man I love....

  I wanted it to to be over. So what if Adam has to start over somewhere new? It’s a great big world, for Christ’s sake.

  I turned to go, but Charlie followed. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

  “I’m done with this, Charlie. You got what you wanted. My brother’s debt is paid. This is ridiculous.”

  He wrapped his hand around my arm in a vise grip and jerked me around to face him. His mouth is twisted, teeth gritted together, eyes flashing.

  “Are you sure you want to say that?” he hisses.

  I shook my arm—hard—and he let go. “Get. Away. From. Me.”

  Charlie glanced to the left and right, but the sidewalk was empty. My heart beat fast, furious. “You’re a stupid bitch, aren’t you?”

  “Not as stupid as you.” I turned away again.

  Charlie as by my side in an instant. “Think about what you’re doing.”

  “I’ve thought about it.”

  “How does your mother like living in Elsie?”

  My shoe caught on the sidewalk as soon as his words registered. My mouth went dry. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Charlie.”

  “Elsie, where your mother lives. In Michigan. You grew up there. Your brother’s visiting her right now.”

  My heart pounded against my ribs and I swallowed down an acid burst of panic.

  He knew where they are. That doesn’t mean he can get there.

  Does it?

  “I don’t know who you got your information from, but they’re an idiot.”

  Charlie laughed like I’m a stand-up comedian. “You’re a bad liar.”

  “If you’re going to threaten me, then do it.”

  “Oh, I’m not threatening you,” he said, his voice smooth and disgusting. “I’m giving you all the information you need to make a good decision.”

  “You’re so kind.”

  Charlie’s hand shot out from his body at lightning speed, and I jumped backward. “See? You’re scared of me. And you should be. Because if you walk away from me right now, it won’t be you who faces the consequences. It’ll be your mother. And your precious brother.”

  I bit my lip to stop my chin from quivering. “I don’t believe you.”

  Charlie whipped a phone out from his back pocket and held it up to my face. “Do you believe this?”

  On the screen was a picture of my mom and brother sitting in a corner booth at the only cafe in town. The next image was one of a rough-looking man holding up yesterday’s paper.

  I swallowed hard.

  “I know where they are, and you know what I’ll do. Choose.”

  I wanted to slap his face. I wanted to kick him in the balls and call 9-1-1. I wanted to put my own hands around his neck and make him feel like I felt—like all the air had gone out of my lungs.

  Instead, I held out my hand, face up.

  He drops a new flash drive into it.

  “See you in a week.”

  Even now, with Jett’s arm wrapped around me, safe in his penthouse, the fear is still icy at the pit of my gut and my hands feel filthy from clutching that flash drive.

  He was waiting for me when I got back. Did he believe that shit I babbled about Adam’s difficult life? Does he believe me now? He seemed to accept that I didn’t want to wake him. That I was being kind, not a dirty liar who’s taking him for all he’s worth and then sleeping with him on top of it.

  He comforted me. The guilt leaves a bad taste in my mouth, and I shift under his arm, trying not to feel like such an unbelievable asshole.

  Jett breathes deep, his chest against my back, and he sighs in his sleep. It guts me.

  What would happen if I woke him up right now and told him everything?

  I turn onto my back and Jett shifts, his arm curling around my waist. My heart thuds, one, two three, in my chest. The pressure builds, the words on the tip of my tongue. I could tell him. I could do it.

&nb
sp; “Jett.” I whisper the word into the dark and some of the pressure releases. His breathing doesn’t change. “Jett…” I run a hand over his arm and move again.

  He’s not waking up. The courage I’d built up for this moment is fading fast.

  One last try.

  I clear my throat. “Wake up.”

  He stirs, his arm tightening around my waist. “Sweet thing,” he says, his voice low and sleepy. “Are you all right?”

  “No,” I whisper.

  The photos Charlie showed me flicker up into my mind.

  “What’s wrong?” He pulls me in closer and brushes his lips against my ear. “Tell me.”

  “I’ve been—” How do I say this? How do I beg him for help after all that I’ve done? The photos from Charlie’s phone flicker up into my memory and my chest seizes. What the hell am I thinking? “I can’t sleep,” I finish lamely.

  “I can help you with that.”

  Got help me, I let him.

  28

  Jett

  Connor stands next to me inside the lobby of the Brandon, Inc. building. We’re receiving another deluge of information from Riley, a spritely woman from the PR department who has endless red, curly hair and talks about a mile a minute.

  “What we need to make clear is that none of our resources were benchmarked for their technology needs, so any investments we made in LoveLink were strictly campaign-oriented. At no time did we fund the hosting of any inappropriate materials.”

  “Got it,” Connor says, nodding down at the tablet containing his prepared statement. This press conference has been arranged for the sole purpose of putting the LoveLink connection far, far behind Brandon, Inc. I’m going to reassure the public that we’re an upstanding corporation deserving of their trust, and Connor is going to outline our now-defunct financial ties so that there’s no question about our involvement in the future.

  There will be questions, of course, but this position statement will be the perfect thing to point people toward.