Courting Gossip

by Kimberly Dean

  Why had she done that? She’d been half asleep, he knew. Had she even known who he was? Or was it habit? That possibility was like an elbow to the gut, but it hadn’t stopped him kissing her back – right after his brain had kicked back into gear.

  Which it needed to do right now.

  Realising he’d become distracted, Brody reached up to adjust his sunglasses. It was a sign to the senator’s aide to get things moving along, but just then Gunderson tapped the reporter on the shoulder and shook his hand. It looked like things were winding up on their own as the senator and his troupe began marching again up the Capitol steps.

  Brody watched until they made it all the way inside without any more reporters swooping in. He rapped his knuckles against the wooden bench and moved along, too. The first phase of his plan had gone well.

  Now he just had to catch up with two novice reporters and let them know just how unwise it would be to continue spreading unfounded rumours with charges already hanging over their heads. It hadn’t taken much digging to discover one had a Peeping Tom conviction from his college days. Something about the girls’ shower…The other had a mother who worked at a bump-and-grind in a questionable area downtown. It didn’t matter if she just served drinks. He could spin that.

  Brody straightened his tie and slid his hands into his pockets as he headed to the Metro entrance. As tired and ill-tempered as he was, he had no doubt Phase Two would be any different. For Jenny’s sake, he wouldn’t let it.

  Chapter Four

  Genieve was disoriented when she awoke. For a moment, panic flared when a bright light glared in her eyes, but she soon realised it was the sun, not intruding reporters. Brody’s house. She was at Brody’s. She rolled onto her back and waited for her heart to slow. She’d slept better than she should have, given the events of last night. Deeper. In her line of work, she didn’t often spend the night. When she did, she’d trained herself to doze rather than truly sleep. Apparently not here, though. She’d crashed.

  She stretched and felt the comfortable mattress adjust with her. The house sounded quiet around her. Was Brody still sleeping?

  She pushed back the covers and got up. She knew he’d stayed up late, strategising and using that evil-genius brain of his. The hallway was empty when she peeked outside the guest room. No grumpy hunks threatened to bump into her, and she felt mildly disappointed. She had to have been more than tired to kiss him last night. Delusional, really, but it had been nice.

  She pushed her hand through her tousled hair. Really nice.

  Tiptoeing down the hallway, she looked into the rooms. She found the master bedroom, but it was empty. Unable to help her curiosity, she stepped inside. The bed was made with hospital corners, and everything was shipshape. Was he a neat freak by nature or did he have a cleaning service come in to keep the place tidy?

  Did he sleep with them, too?

  Some of his patented grumpiness rubbed off on her, and she left the room as she found it. Silence still permeated the house. It felt wide and open, but welcoming in a strange sort of way. He’d brought her here to protect Samuel, she knew, but she still felt sheltered. Hidden safe in the den of the big bad wolf.

  She padded on bare feet back to the living room. There were an empty mug and some papers on the coffee table, and the cushions on the sofa were rumpled. Still, she saw no signs of the man who’d brought her here.

  ‘Brody?’ she called.

  When she got no answer, she went to the garage and discovered his car was gone. He’d told the senator he’d contact him with a plan in the morning. Apparently, he’d headed out to do that in person – leaving her all alone in his house. Interesting. She surveyed the place. Was he a trusting soul or was this a test?

  It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to do anything. She had more pride and class than that, but did he not know how much a person’s space told about him? Although she’d already read this space…She poked at a cashmere blanket draped over a chair. There was way too much decorator influence to learn much about the man.

  But what was that?

  She looked out the sliding glass door to the back yard. It had been too dark to see when she’d arrived, but the sun was high in the sky now. Through the big plate-glass door she saw a fire pit, gardens, an outdoor seating area and even some birdfeeders. Now that wasn’t done by a manila-and-beige decorator. She watched a bright-red cardinal land on a ground-level feeder.

  Fascinating. Now she was getting somewhere.

  She went to the sofa and curled up on the rumpled cushions. The papers on the table were filled with notes. How was he planning to handle this mess? And what was he planning to do with her? His handwriting was crisp and clean, but that didn’t help her. Her brow furrowed as she tried to follow the arrows and clouds of ideas. She blew out a calming breath. She really wanted to know what he was up to, but trying to translate his notes only gave her a headache.

  Grumbling in frustration, she turned on the television. By luck, she landed right in the middle of a news segment with Samuel. She sat up straighter. The senator was on the steps of the Capitol, talking to a reporter about the events of last night. Genieve held her breath as the reporter’s questions focused on the break-in. Samuel called her his girlfriend, and the interview ended with no bombshells exploding.

  ‘Good,’ she said with a sigh. The senator had handled the questions well, but she could see Brody’s fingerprints all over it.

  She flipped through the channels, trying to find anything else, but morning news segments about cooking and weight loss consumed the rest of the channels. Did nobody see the problem there?

  Unfortunately, she was as susceptible as anybody. Her stomach growled. Brody had told her to use whatever she needed, and a cup of coffee was high on her needs list. She headed to the kitchen as she kept an eye on the TV.

  The midday news reports would be the next big test. She didn’t know how Mr Fixer planned to contain everything. Was it even possible? She shook her head. Was this how he spent his days? Who went into this line of work?

  ‘And why?’ she muttered aloud. She found a Keurig machine on the counter and began looking for the flavour cups. The scent of Dark Magic blend was filling the kitchen when she heard the garage door opener start whirring.

  Brody was back.

  Her heart began beating faster, and she fluffed her hair. She didn’t know why the guy got to her. Last night was the most time they’d spent in one another’s company. The times they’d spoken before that had been short and to the point, yet her skin always felt sensitive whenever he was around. He just filled her with an insatiable need to ruffle him up. He was just so stern, controlled, stoic…and delicious.

  Oh, who was she fooling? She knew exactly why she’d kissed him.

  She glanced over her shoulder when he came in through the laundry room. The poor guy looked dead tired as he loosened his tie. He dropped his keys into the bowl by the door, but stopped short when he saw her.

  A charge went through her when his gaze slid down her back, rested on her bottom and eventually drifted over her legs. She wasn’t a morning person, and today was unlike any other. It took her a while to get going, and she hadn’t dressed yet. She was still wearing the same purple nightie she’d slept in…the same one she’d been wearing last night when she’d laid that lip-lock on him. The skimpy little slip rode high on her thighs and slits on each side dared to go even higher. Thin spaghetti straps were all that held the thing up, and the soft material clung to her curves.

  Genieve felt her slow-rising body wake up.

  Her hair slid over her shoulders as she turned. She leaned back against the counter and held her cup of coffee in both hands. ‘Did you go into the city?’

  He didn’t stop staring, and the heat in her belly started bubbling.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said as she glanced down. ‘I forgot to pack a robe, of all things.’

  He nodded. He could see that.

  She tugged at the short hemline, which only made the material pull tight
er over her breasts. ‘I suppose I could borrow one from you, if it makes you uncomfortable.’

  ‘You’re fine.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Unless you’re cold.’

  On the contrary. ‘It seems warm in here to me.’

  And getting warmer. She took a drink of her coffee and watched him over the lip of the cup. For such a ruthless wheeler-dealer, the guy certainly didn’t look the part. He’d hate to hear it, but he was a cutie. Younger than someone she’d expect in his position, fitter and hotter. How he managed to stay behind the scenes, she didn’t know. He turned her head whenever he was within spotting distance.

  He walked further into the room and put a leather folder on the dining-room table. She noticed how he stood behind the back of a chair and wrapped his fingers around it.

  ‘Did you just get up?’ he asked.

  ‘A little bit ago. I caught a clip on the morning news.’ She swept the remote off the counter and turned off the television in the next room. ‘You’ve been a busy boy.’

  ‘It was a productive morning.’

  Good to hear. If there were problems, she was heading straight for the airport – or maybe back to that guest bedroom to hide under the covers. ‘Did you really have to mummify Samuel?’

  His forehead rumpled.

  ‘The arm,’ he finally said. He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Too much?’

  ‘I was waiting for Steve Martin to start singing “King Tut” in the background.’

  He frowned. ‘We had limited time to make our point.’

  ‘Smoke and mirrors. I understand.’ She smothered a yawn and stretched in a way that had her nightie shifting dangerously. ‘All in all, the interview seemed like it went well to me.’

  ‘Better than expected,’ he said, his voice gruff. He shook his head and reached into his breast pocket. ‘There’s just one more thing that needs to be taken care of.’

  He pulled out a folded set of papers and crooked a finger at her. ‘Come with me.’

  He crossed the kitchen and strode straight to the fireplace in the living room. It was gas-powered. All it took was the flick of a switch and flames were jumping behind the glass doors. Genieve stopped at his side. She felt underdressed standing next to him in his suit and tie, but he seemed more discomfited than she did. She liked him off-centre. It made him seem more human. Less rigid and intimidating.

  ‘Here,’ he said as he passed her the papers. ‘You can do the honours.’

  She set her coffee cup down on the hearth of the fireplace and unfolded the document. She wasn’t surprised. It was her escort contract with the senator. ‘You do realise that by burning this I make myself unemployed.’

  ‘Would you prefer those two reporters get their hands on it?’

  She went quiet. Those two had truly scared her, first for her safety and now for her reputation and livelihood. Were they still in a jail cell? What were they telling the police?

  Brody watched her closely. ‘Don’t worry. They won’t be a bother to you any more.’

  How could he know that?

  She slowly lifted her gaze. ‘What did you do to them?’

  He shrugged as if it were inconsequential. ‘I applied pressure to weaknesses.’

  And there was the incongruity. As handsome and clean-cut as he was, Brody fought dirty. He didn’t deal in the physical that she knew of, but with the right information the tactics were the same. She didn’t know if she should be relieved or scared.

  But she did feel safer.

  She sighed and flipped through the pages. ‘Did you get them to keep quiet about Samuel, too?’

  Brody’s jaw stiffened. She knew that video was the fly in the ointment. ‘They won’t say what they saw.’

  She tilted her head. ‘All of it?’

  He pulled off his tie with a snap. ‘Let’s just drop it, OK?’

  No, she had a commitment to her client, and her contract was still intact in her hot little hands. She felt compelled to protect the senator. Nothing that had happened last night was his fault either. ‘Samuel would be mortified by that more than anything, you know.’

  ‘He might be embarrassed to be caught bare-assed, but I doubt he’d be mortified to be caught with you.’

  Her eyebrows rose. ‘It’s not his bare ass I’m talking about.’

  Brody stared at her. He was tired, she knew, but it suddenly dawned on her that he wasn’t thinking slowly.

  ‘You don’t know, do you?’ She threw up her hands. Now who was thinking slowly? Why would Brody know? It wasn’t something that a man shared with his buddies like beer and sports.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ he asked.

  And Brody and Samuel weren’t friends. Technically, Brody worked as a contractor for the senator. So did she, but she was on a need-to-know basis.

  He turned towards her, some of that hunter energy coming back. ‘If you have information that affects the senator, I need to hear it.’

  He really couldn’t stand being left out of the loop, could he? The papers twisted in Genieve’s hands. She’d promised to keep it confidential.

  ‘Jenny,’ he growled.

  She glared at him. ‘I’m not supposed to tell anyone – but the reporters saw it.’

  ‘Saw what?’

  ‘One-eyed Willie,’ she hissed.

  ‘What?’

  She squirmed. She was well acquainted with the human body and all its quirks, but she wasn’t comfortable talking to him about it. ‘Bacon with one egg? The ball-peen hammer? The Uniballer?’

  ‘Are you speaking English?’

  ‘You know…his…package.’

  Brody’s jaw went slack. ‘He…’

  ‘Only has one…’ She pointed down there, but then felt her face flare. ‘Those two noticed. They got it on tape.’

  Brody clapped his hand to his forehead, and she winced. She knew he had to clean up a lot of messes after his clients. He hid bad press and made things look better than they should, but how did one pretty that up with a bow?

  He dug his fingers into his temples and began to rub. ‘Jesus, they got that on tape?’

  She nodded ruefully.

  And it was currently with the police.

  ‘I can’t even—’ He shook his head. ‘He might be on his own with that one.’

  It was beyond the spin machine of even the great Brody Haynes?

  ‘Unless we use it. We say that the reporters were trying to confirm the rumour. We make him the spokesperson for men with his condition.’

  ‘Brody!’

  He cursed under his breath. ‘Give me a few more hours.’

  Now she truly did feel bad. Poor Samuel. He had two huge secrets that were threatening to come out. She straightened the pages of her contract that had wrinkled in her hand. ‘How did he take the news that I’ll no longer be his escort?’

  Brody wrapped the tie around his hand and closed it within his fist. ‘He’s disappointed, but he wishes you the best.’

  Genieve narrowed her eyes on him as every one of her radar detectors went off. The senator wished her the best? Like Samuel would ever say that. She’d slept with the man; she hadn’t polished his shoes. ‘Liar.’

  Brody’s head snapped back as if she’d just bopped him on the chin.

  ‘You never told him.’ She made damn sure her clients would be more than disappointed without her. She did her job well – even if it took some creative fantasising on her part. Men begged when their time with her was over. ‘Don’t lie to me, Brody boy. You stink at it.’

  He looked dumbfounded. ‘I’m a very good liar. It’s how I earn my money.’

  ‘Yeah? Well, so do I.’

  He held her look for a long time, but then broke it to stare into the flames. ‘I’ll tell him. It just wasn’t the right time this morning. I needed him to perform.’

  He opened the glass door to the fireplace, and Genieve felt the warmth of the fire hit her. ‘Just like I need you to get rid of that damn thing.’

  He waited stubbornly.

  �
�Now, Jenny.’

  And there he was, the dictatorial fiend. She sighed. The senator was a nice, if shallow, man. She knew he was sweet on her, yet the relationship was merely contractual on her part. They’d had a good run. Extending it any further would be foolhardy. She tossed the pages into the flames. The fire leaped as it was fed, and the paper curled in upon itself before charring and bursting into flames. It only took seconds until the evidence was gone, never to be seen again. For good measure, Brody took a fire poker and stirred the ashes.

  ‘Are there more of those out there?’ he asked.

  The question took the wind right out of her sails, and it hurt. ‘No! There’s a reason it’s called an exclusive contract.’

  ‘Not for you.’ Colour actually lit his cheeks. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply…I meant other exclusive contracts for Luxxor.’ His fingers began tapping against his leg. ‘Does Luxxor have exclusive contracts with other politicians?’

  Genieve folded her arms over her chest, suddenly uncomfortable. ‘I don’t know.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘You know.’

  ‘I don’t. Nina keeps that all confidential.’

  ‘But you have a pretty good idea. You see people together.’

  ‘I don’t see anything.’

  ‘You see everything.’ He stepped closer. ‘If there are other exclusive contracts out there, they need to be dealt with. I need to know.’

  ‘No, you don’t.’

  ‘If the press starts picking at loose threads…’

  ‘Then somebody else’s pants will fall down.’

  His chin snapped back again, and Genieve felt a flare of triumph. He wasn’t the only one who could fight dirty.

  He tried again. ‘You can’t withhold this from me. I told Nina I’d protect you.’

  ‘And you think it will help if I give away her client list?’ She laughed. ‘Try again, smooth operator.’

  ‘Jenny…’

  ‘It’s Genieve.’

  The poker wobbled as he put it back in the stand. It looked about as steady as he did on his feet. He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘We’ll pick this up again later. Right now, I need to catch a few hours of sleep.’