Web of Lies: A Brook Brothers Novel

by Delaney, Tracie

  The door slammed shut. A sob broke from Dex’s throat. Bernard was a terrible boss, but the pay was great. She couldn’t afford to take a lesser paid job and maintain the payments on Mom’s nursing home. Damn Nate Brook. Why couldn’t he have done as he was told and waited? And now, she was unemployed, and it was all his fault.

  With trembling hands, Dex packed up her desk. Her vision kept blurring as tears sprang to her eyes. What now? She couldn’t afford to be out of work for a day, let alone permanently. What about Mom? Two weeks to find something else that had equivalent pay was almost impossible, especially as she’d be asked why she’d left her last job. Even if she didn’t reveal she’d been fired, it wouldn’t take long for them to find out. Bernard had a big mouth. Bigger than his ass, and that was saying something. She couldn’t even use the fact he’d been cheating on his wife as leverage. Bernard would ruin her. He’d said he would, and she believed him.

  It didn’t take Dex long to get her stuff together and, with her shoulders back and head held high, she left the building, but not before she heard the two receptionists gossiping about “Yet another one Bernard has fired.”

  Dex put the small cardboard box containing her things in the trunk of her car and climbed inside the ancient Ford. She turned the key in the ignition, and her exhaust made a horrible rattling sound. Goddammit. The last thing she needed was a hefty auto repair bill.

  As the enormity of her situation came over her, Dex slammed the palm of her hand into the steering wheel. Fuck Bernard. And fuck Nate Brook. Maybe she should give up and move back to Wisconsin. But that would mean finding another nursing home for Mom, and she was so settled at Oak Ridge.

  As soon as her anger subsided, she put the car into drive and set off for her apartment. The minute she stepped through the door, her cell rang. She answered with one hand and opened a tin of cat food for Milo with the other.

  “Hello.”

  “When were you going to tell me you’ve been fired?”

  Dex’s heart plummeted. Elva, her sister.

  “How did you find out?”

  “I stopped by your office to see if you wanted to go out tonight, and there was a smug little blonde who couldn’t have been older than eighteen sitting at your desk.”

  Dex ignored the sharp pain that raced across her chest. It hadn’t taken Bernard long to replace her, even temporarily.

  “When I’d absorbed it enough to get my own head around the disaster that is my life.”

  Her sister tsked. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re young, smart, pretty enough to work in Hollywood, you’ll be fine.”

  Dex winced at Elva’s backhanded compliment. “It might be a little more difficult than that. Once it gets around Bernard fired me, it won’t be easy to get another well-paying job. I’m worried about how on earth I’m going to keep the payments up on Mom’s home.”

  “We’ll work it out, sis,” Elva said, her tone softening. “Maybe I can put in a bit more.”

  “No,” Dex said, her tone firm and determined. “Any spare money you have should go on the kids. I’ll figure it out.” Somehow.

  “Look, why don’t we go out for a drink tonight. I haven’t been out in ages. Andy isn’t working, so he can look after the kids, and you can tell me why Bernard fired you.”

  Except I can’t. Dex made a mental note to come up with a plausible story. Although her sister was discreet, Dex couldn’t risk Elva letting something slip to Andy who then, in turn, told his co-workers over a beer. No, better to make something up. This town thrived on gossip, and she couldn’t allow his indiscretion to get around.

  “Okay,” she said. “Sounds good.”

  A few hours later, Dex met Elva at a bar on Sunset. Dex had to bite the side of her cheek to stop the tears from coming as they hugged. Elva picked a booth near the entrance where a light breeze cooled the heat inside the bar. Even though it was a Tuesday night, the place was still busy, although not nearly as packed as a Friday or Saturday night.

  After ordering their drinks, Elva took Dex’s hands in hers. “I know you’re worried, sis, but it will all work out. Things always do.”

  “I hope so,” Dex said, forcing an external positivity she most certainly wasn’t feeling internally.

  “So…” Elva tilted her head to one side as she asked, “What happened?”

  “Oh, it was nothing really,” Dex said, feigning nonchalance. “Bernard’s a bastard.”

  “We know that.” Elva grinned. “But that doesn’t give him the right to fire you for nothing. There’s such a thing as worker’s rights.”

  Dex bit her lip in what she hoped would look coy. “Okay, it wasn’t nothing exactly. I was rude to a client who got a bit over-friendly, if you know what I mean. I should have just brushed it off.”

  “Why should you?” Elva said, outraged on Dex’s behalf. “You’re not a piece of meat that can be mauled. This town pisses me off. Its attitude is still unbelievably outdated, despite the #metoo campaign.”

  Dex shrugged. “It doesn’t matter anyway. What’s done is done. I’ll pick myself up and start looking for another job in the morning.”

  Elva’s cocked eyebrow gave Dex a clear message that said, “This isn’t over”, but at least her sister let it drop for now.

  Dex drank three Long Island Iced Teas that she really couldn’t afford, but the alcohol did cool the fire brewing inside. Calling it a night, she and Elva wandered outside. Once Dex had settled Elva in a taxi—her sister was traveling in the opposite direction to Dex—she glanced left and right, hoping to spot another soon. While she waited, her gaze caught a familiar figure on the other side of the street. Someone she’d recognize in a heartbeat, considering she spent far too much time studying him. Every. Single. Thing.

  Nate Brook.

  He was sporting a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes in an attempt at a disguise, but she’d know that over-confident strut anywhere. He was with a couple of friends. They were laughing as they walked down the street, without a care in the world.

  He clearly hadn’t given her, or the trouble he’d gotten her into, a second thought. Burning rage hissed through her, demanding release. Her hands formed into fists. What a bastard! Gorgeous, yes. Her secret obsession, absolutely, but still a bastard. How dare he be out enjoying himself when he’d gotten her fired. He needed a lesson, and she was going to give it to him—with both barrels. What else did she have to lose? If she hadn’t been on the wrong side of sober, she’d never pluck up the courage to tackle him, but the alcohol had emboldened her.

  She started across the road. “Hey, you,” she yelled as he and his friends were about to enter a club.

  A car came out of nowhere, blaring its horn at the crazy woman in the middle of the street. Dex flipped up her middle finger as the car swerved around her. The driver’s arm came out of the window, and he returned the favor.

  Nate and his two friends turned around. Nate gave her an arrogant stare followed by a good old-fashioned eye sweep. When he didn’t see anything that caught his interest, he shoved one of his friends on the shoulder, encouraging him inside.

  “Nate Brook, stop right there.”

  Nate paused, turning his attention to her. “Sorry, sweetheart, no autographs tonight.”

  His friends sniggered and stepped inside. Nate followed. Dex put her hands on her hips. Fine. If he wanted his humiliation to be public, she was happy to oblige.

  She sprinted the rest of the way across the street and stormed into the club after them. She hadn’t gotten very far when a huge guy put his arm out, stopping her from going any farther.

  “Can I help you, miss?”

  Dex set her shoulders. If she didn’t act quick, she’d lose her chance. So she went for it.

  “Nate Brook, you complete bastard,” she yelled at his retreating back. “You fucking got me fired today.”

  Nate froze, one foot in front of the other. He slowly turned around, recognition sparking in those magnetic eyes of his.

  “You’re Bernard’s
PA,” he said.

  Dex’s anger scored a fiery trail through her veins. She was going to kill him. “Not anymore, thanks to you,” she hissed.

  Nate frowned and stroked his chin. Then he gestured to the bouncer to let her through. She stepped over the threshold and found her elbow in a firm grip as Nate Brook propelled her into the club.

  Chapter 3

  Nate towed Bernard’s pint-sized PA—he still couldn’t remember her fucking name—toward the VIP area. Velvet ropes were pulled back as he approached and then were immediately dropped back in place. He gave his friends the nod that he wanted a few minutes alone to find out what the hell was going on. Two bouncers stood in front of the rope. No one was getting through them unless Nate gave the go-ahead.

  He let go of… of… oh for fuck’s sake. “What’s your name?”

  She looked at him with utter loathing and planted her hands on her hips. “I’ve worked for Bernard Sullivan for six months, during which time you must have been to the office on more than ten occasions, and you don’t know my goddamn name.”

  Nate theatrically clamped his hands over his ears as she screamed the last part. “All right, sweetheart, no need to pierce an eardrum.”

  She jabbed a finger in his face. “My name is Dex, you complete and total ass. And you got me fired from my job. A job I need!”

  Nate took a step back and made a calming motion with his hands. “One thing at a time, sweetheart. Firstly, what kind of a name is Dex for a girl?”

  Her eyes widened. “Are you trying to be rude on purpose, or does it just come naturally?”

  Nate’s lips twitched. This one was a little fireball. It had been a while—too long—since he’d been called out on his shit. Apart from his brothers, obviously. One of the reasons he kept his distance. Not the main reason, of course. Regardless, he was definitely enjoying the experience.

  “If you think that was rude, you must have led a very sheltered life.”

  She kicked her chin up and drew herself up to her full height, which must have been all of five-foot one if she was lucky.

  “What’s the point,” she said. “The great Nate Brook is hardly likely to give a shit about a nobody like me.”

  She went to brush past him.

  Nate stuck out his arm. “Whoa there, Titch. Where d’you think you’re going?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Titch? What the hell does that mean? Some stupid Hollywood ‘in joke’ I presume.”

  Nate sniggered. It was a word he’d picked up at school in London. It meant a small person. Suited Dex perfectly, in height if not in personality. When he didn’t answer her question, she huffed.

  “I’m going home,” she spat. “To search for a job.”

  She tried to leave once more. Nate grabbed her around the waist and lifted her in the air. She weighed next to nothing, but what she lacked in physical stature, she made up for in one hell of a pair of lungs, evidenced by the loud squeal she made when he picked her up and plunked her on the navy leather couch at the back of the VIP area.

  He stood in front of her, barring her way. “You’ll leave when I say you can leave. And can you drop the decibel level? I can barely hear myself think.”

  Her mouth dropped open in astonishment at his sheer gall. “You can’t keep me here against my will. And I am not loud.”

  He grinned. “I can do anything I want to, sweetheart. Fancy your chances getting past me, and then past them two?” He jerked his head back, indicating the bouncers standing guard. “And believe me, loud is a polite term. Fucking deafening would be more accurate.”

  Her lips pressed together in a fierce grimace as she glared at him, fire pouring from navy-blue eyes that had him staring longer than he should have. He could almost see her mind ticking over, weighing up her options. And then her shoulders bowed in defeat.

  “If you must know, my dad named me after Soren Dexter, the pro-footballer who played defense for the Green Bay Packers. Dad was a huge fan. It didn’t occur to him that Dexter wasn’t the most suitable name for a girl. I use Dex because… well, just because.”

  “At least you weren’t named after Dexter Morgan.” Dex gave him a confused head-tilt—which was fucking adorable by the way—and he grinned. “TV show. The male lead, Dexter, was a serial killer. It’s a great show. You should get it on Netflix.”

  “Oh, nice.” Dex’s tone dripped sarcasm. “Although I’d like to kill you for getting me fired today.”

  Nate took a seat beside her, his arm stretched along the back of the couch. He didn’t miss the burn creeping up Dex’s neck, and the quiet sigh she let out as his thigh pressed against hers. Looked like Little Miss Dex had a crush on him. Except unlike the other starlet sycophants who constantly pawed and begged for attention, Dex wasn’t going to let the small matter of physical attraction detract from the actual bodily harm she wanted to dole out.

  “Yes, let’s get to that. So are you gonna tell me what happened?”

  Her eyes flashed all kinds of hatred his way. “I wasn’t supposed to let anyone into Bernard’s office.”

  Nate chuckled. “And we all know why, don’t we?”

  Dex’s lips twitched, despite her predicament. Maybe she was starting to thaw out. Good. He wanted to see whether he still found her interesting when she wasn’t breathing fire.

  “And because you ignored my instruction, Bernard fired me.”

  Nate’s temper rose on her behalf, even though before tonight, he’d barely noticed she existed. Bernard Sullivan was a fuckwit and a bully. To blame a woman who didn’t stand a chance of stopping Nate, even if she’d been several inches taller, was unacceptable.

  As an idea took hold, Nate got to his feet and held out his hand.

  “Okay, Titch, let’s go.”

  Dex frowned. “Where to? And stop calling me Titch.”

  Nate flashed her the kind of grin he knew from experience girls found hard to resist. Dex was no exception. Without question, she took his hand, the resultant blush confirming his earlier assertion. The thought brought a smile to his lips. He liked this little dynamo, and he wasn’t going to stand for Bernard Sullivan thinking he could get away with what he’d done to her.

  Not if Nate had anything to do with it.

  * * *

  Dex sat quietly beside Nate as he drove east. Her senses were on high alert sitting so close to him. She breathed deeply through her nose. His cologne tickled her nostrils, the scent extremely pleasant. She’d even go so far as to say sensual. Oh, who was she kidding? The masculine smell of him, his close proximity, the way he’d held her hand as they’d left the bar—yeah, she was warm from the inside out.

  All those months she’d fantasized about what she’d say to Nate Brook if she got the chance, but those practiced conversations had been moot when he’d never so much as glanced her way. Yet today, he’d touched her not once, but three times. At the office earlier and then twice in the club. And now she had the chance to say everything she’d ever wanted, the proverbial cat had gotten her damn tongue.

  “How did a girl like you end up working for Bernard Sullivan anyway?” Nate asked.

  Dex bristled—and her tongue untwisted itself. “What do you mean, ‘a girl like me’? One who doesn’t think fame and fortune is everything, one who isn’t pretty enough, or one that won’t let a disgusting fat bastard like Bernard stick it in me in the hope he’ll get me a walk-on part in the latest sitcom to hit Hollywood Boulevard?”

  Nate briefly took his hands off the steering wheel to hold them in the air. “Whoa, mama. That’s a fucking big chip you’ve got there. Must be weighing you down. Is that why you’re so small?”

  It was a good job Nate’s lips twitched, because if she hadn’t figured he was teasing her, she’d have slammed her elbow into his gonads.

  “I’m small in stature. Big in personality.”

  Nate threw back his head and laughed, two rarely seen dimples briefly softening the brooding features he was known for. “You’re not kidding.”

>   Dex couldn’t help herself. He might be an arrogant ass who was far too attractive for his own good, but she found his humor infectious. She started laughing along with him.

  “I don’t think you understand how tough it is for someone like me. I’m not interested in being an actress, a producer, anything to do with the film industry. I want to do an honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay.”

  “If you’re not interested in movies, why are you living in Los Angeles?”

  Dex grazed her bottom lip with her teeth. Nate wouldn’t care that Mom’s nursing home sucked every spare penny from Dex. He’d hardly be interested in the fact she worked most weekends on the checkout at her local supermarket because as well-paid as the job with Bernard was—had been—it wasn’t nearly enough to pay the bills that kept rolling in. He wouldn’t give a shit that she lived on packs of ramen noodles that were filling and damned cheap.

  Instead she settled for, “My sister lives close by.”

  “Is she in the business?”

  “No, but her husband is. He’s a cameraman.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  No, you don’t.

  Nate turned into a tree-lined street with grass edges so perfect, they had to have been styled by a hairdresser. Not a blade of grass was out of place. They must be in Beverly Hills. Nowhere else in the greater Los Angeles area smelled of so much money. Dex guessed where they were going, and she stiffened in her seat.

  “Tell me we’re not going to Bernard’s house.”