The Buchanan's Redemption

by Alexx Andria

  “Oh? You know her well?” Vince lifted his brow, unimpressed thus far and becoming annoyed at the general killjoy his twin had become as of late. “My brother, you’ve become far too prudish in your married old age. Lighten up and tell me what you know about my little dove.”

  “I probably shouldn’t but seeing as we’re both tied to Malvagio, here goes. Emma Winters is twenty-six and the oldest daughter of Mike and Sarah Winters — both deceased after a car accident when she was eighteen and her younger sister, Lana, was fourteen.”

  “Tragic,” Vince commented, wondering how he could use that information to his advantage. Given that information, it was readily apparent why Emma felt responsible for her sister Lana; Emma’s been taking care of her sister since she was a young girl.

  “Yeah, but she’s pretty tough. She managed to put herself through college, in spite of having to work two jobs and care for her sister. She graduated with a degree in journalism-”

  “Which nowadays is pretty much useless,” Vince cut in dryly and Nolan agreed.

  “Yeah, and that’s why she’s had a hard time finding a job. There just aren’t many newspapers looking to hire new journalists when a lot of print newspapers are going digital only or going out of business completely.”

  “Don’t we own a newspaper?” Vince asked, trying to jog his own memory.

  “We did but we sold it. It kept losing money year after year.”

  “Pity. I might’ve enjoyed offering her a job just to watch her gnash her teeth at me. She’s a spitfire,” he mused, mostly to himself. To Nolan, he asked, “Anything else?”

  Nolan shrugged. “Not really. She’s a poor, struggling freelance writer. She barely makes her rent most months but she’s honest. Everyone I talked with said she’s always professional and always does a good job.”

  “No boyfriend?”

  Nolan sighed, knowing Vince too well. “No,” he answered.

  “Excellent. I hate entanglements.”

  “Let’s stay focused on the issue at hand. We need her help to catch who poses a threat to the club, nothing else. Right?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with combining business with pleasure. Isn’t that what we’ve spent our twenties doing? I like to think I’m pretty good at multi-tasking.”

  “She’s nothing like the women we’re accustomed to,” Nolan warned.

  "Good. I bore easily." Vince lifted a strapless red dress that looked as if it’d need to be painted on and held it up for Nolan's opinion. "She has beautiful tits. What you think of this?"

  "Forget the dress. We have bigger problems. What are you doing with this woman? Laird told me that he's holding onto Emma’s sister on your orders. Are you blackmailing her into helping you?"

  Vince shot a look at his brother, irritated. "And what if I am? It's nothing you and I haven't done before. Sometimes the ends justify the means. I'm not about to go down in flames just because you were afraid to pull the trigger. There was a time when you were just as ruthless as I am. It's not my fault that your new wife is holding your nuts in Aubrey’s diaper bag."

  "Watch it.”

  “Hey, don’t get me wrong. I love my niece and Shannon’s pretty nice, too but you’ve made some major changes since they crashed into your life and I don’t even know you anymore. I want my brother back.” He regarded Nolan with sadness. “Remember when we used to prowl the clubs, taking what we wanted without apology? Fucking women together? Sharing everything?”

  “Of course I remember,” Nolan answered quietly. “I’m not that guy anymore and I don’t want to be.”

  “Why not?” Vince shot back. “There was nothing wrong with being who you are.”

  “It’s hard to explain. I guess I had an epiphany and I realized I didn’t want to be that guy anymore.”

  Vince stiffened. “And what guy was that?”

  “The guy that our own mother wouldn’t want to know,” he answered, pulling no punches. “If she knew half the shit we’d done…hell, it’s embarrassing just to think about it.”

  “Speak for yourself. I’m not ashamed of anything I’ve done,” Vince said, hating that Nolan had thrown the mother card in. “Besides, she died before we really got to know her at all and I don’t let the ghosts of strangers run my life.”

  Nolan realized he wasn’t going to win with anything he had to say, so he let it go. “I didn't come to fight with you. Nor did I come to listen to you insult my wife. Or my nuts. I'm worried about you, Vince. Lately, you haven't been the same. Dillon and I both worry that you're on some self-destructive course, and we want to make sure that that's not the case."

  "I'm touched by your concern. I'm fine." Great. An inter-fucking-vention from two of the biggest hypocrites of the year. Vince tossed the red dress in his hand and reached for another. "You know before Dillon came back and got all respectable, you and I were unstoppable in this town. Now both you and Dillon are neutered and I'm forced to prowl the streets alone. I'm not doing anything that you and I didn't do together so stop judging me and stop being such a pansy."

  "Yeah, we did a lot of shady things together. But that's the point. There comes a time when you have to stop dicking around and start taking responsibility for your life. Before Shannon, I never realized that money wasn't everything. That saying was just some trite statement that people who don't have money would say. At least that's what I thought. She made me realize that there is more to life than money and if I lost it all right now I'd be okay because of Shannon and Aubrey. What would you do if you lost all the money?" he asked in earnest but Vince wasn't interested in having a philosophical conversation. He was horny as hell and the one person he wanted to satisfy his urge with, was the one person who wanted to claw his eyes out. He tossed the second red dress and grabbed the third. Nolan pressed harder. "There was a time when you would've settled down. There was someone who made you want those things. And I feel responsible, as we all do, for what happened to Isabel. But she's been gone a long time, man. It's time to let her go and move on."

  Vince shot his brother a warning look. "Don't talk about shit that you know nothing about. I was using her just as you were. Don't try to make it into something it wasn't."

  "You can lie to anyone else but you can't lie to me. I know how you felt about her. There's no sense in putting up a front. I loved her too but not like you did. Hell, I'm pretty sure you loved her more than Dillon even, but she's gone and your soul climbed in the grave with her."

  "Don't waste your time rewriting history. You want to remember things how you want to remember them but I remember things as they were. Isabel was a pretty piece of ass that I wanted and so I took it. The relationship, if you can call it that, ended badly. End of story. But why the hell are you bringing up Isabel? She has nothing to do with what's going on with Emma. From a pure business standpoint, we all have a lot to lose if Malvagio goes down in flames because of this. Emma wasn't being cooperative so I had to find a way to force her hand. I don't feel bad about it and I'm not going to back down. Even if you are not interested in protecting the club’s interests, I am. Unlike you, I'm not ashamed to do whatever it takes."

  "Did it ever occur to you that you should be? That's the problem, Vince. We both lost sight of what it means to be human. We became our father — the one person that we swore we never would. And if you keep doing what you're doing, you’ll end up just like him or worse."

  Vincent threw the dress to the ground, eliciting a gasp from Dana as she hovered on the fringe. "We can agree to disagree and leave it at that,” he growled. “And I really suggest that you leave it because right about now I've had it with your self-righteous act. In case you've forgotten you’re no angel. The difference between you and me is, I never pretended to be."

  Nolan shook his head, disgusted with Vince. "You're impossible to deal with right now. When you pull your head out of your ass let me know and we’ll talk. Until then — you're on your own."

  Vince watched as Nolan stalked from the dress shop. Dana stood nervously of
f to the side, eyeing the discarded dresses with dismay. Vince barely glanced at her before curtly announcing, "I'll take the strapless in a size four. Add shoes to match."

  "Yes Mr. Buchanan," she said rushing over to pick up the red cloud of discarded dresses. "On your account then?"

  He nodded, adding, "Throw some jewelry in, too. Whatever would look good." He didn't know why he threw in the jewelry and he didn't really want to ask examine his reasoning too closely. Nolan had thrown him off with his amateur hour psychoanalyzing and now Vince was off-kilter.

  Why’d Nolan have to go poking at the hornet’s nest? He hated that Nolan knew him so well. He hated that Nolan knew how he’d called their personal jeweler to look at some rings because he’d been on the cusp of throwing everything he had on the table and asking Isabel to marry him. He would have even raised Dillon’s child as his own. In fact, he would have done anything for Isabel. But things had spiraled out of control so quickly, he hadn’t had the chance to make his offer. The day Isabel had taken a swan dive from the top of their building, was the day that Vince realized he'd been beyond foolish to imagine he would be a proper choice for anyone respectable. Deep down, he was missing something crucial — something that kept him from breaking other people. So, yes, there had been a time when he'd naïvely thought he was capable of settling down but he wasn't a foolish boy any longer and for that he was grateful. Now he went into each situation with his eyes wide open. He made no promises and he offered no sweetness. He liked a firm ass, nice tits, and plenty of variety and he made no apologies for it. And if anyone had a problem without they could go fuck themselves — including Nolan.

  #

  Emma had just exited the shower when there was a soft knock on the bedroom door. She quickly wrapped herself in a large fluffy white towel and for lack of any other clothing had no choice but to open the door wearing only the towel. She was surprised to see a plain-faced, but very kind looking older woman on the other side. "Hi,” she said with a smile wreathing her face. “I'm Janie. I'm here to do your hair and makeup."

  Hair and makeup? There had to be some mistake. "I'm sorry, I don't know why you would be here to do my hair and makeup."

  "I don't know but it must be something special because Mr. Buchanan said he wanted you to look your best, which shouldn't be hard because you're already beautiful."

  Emma blushed around a wan smile, not quite sure how to accept the compliment without seeming as if she were condoning Vince’s inappropriate gesture. She didn’t want the woman to get the wrong impression about her but then, Emma didn’t want to be rude, either. Her brain blanked and she had no choice but to allow the woman to walk in and get settled with her makeup trunk and hair accessories. Emma had never had anyone do her makeup and hair in her life. She’d missed out on prom, being too busy trying to scrape by with a little sister to feed. So when her girlfriends had been going to the salon for their special dates, Emma had stayed behind with Lana, splurging on popcorn and soda for a rental movie night. And it definitely felt weird to have it done now. Particularly knowing that Vince Buchanan had ordered it so. "This really isn't necessary," she began as she sat in the chair that Janie had pulled forward. "Mr. Buchanan I are not dating or anything like that." She wanted to make that very clear right away. "I don't even know why he wants this done. We have more of a business relationship. We’re not even friends. I don’t really like him in the least," she tacked on just to make sure there was no confusion as to how she felt.

  "Oh, honey you don't have to explain your relationship with Mr. Buchanan. It's none of my business."

  Emma cringed, wondering how many women this Janie had primped for dates with Vince Buchanan. He probably made silly women who valued silly things swoon at the attention. The idea made her want to shave her head so he had nothing to have primped but her hair was her one vanity and knew not even she could go that far. "I'm not that kind of woman," she felt it necessary to clarify. "We are working together to…" She searched for the right words. "Well, we have mutual business interests that we are trying to protect." What a total lie but she couldn't rightly say that Vince was blackmailing her into helping him solve a crime that should’ve been reported to the police. But it didn't matter what she said because Janie simply smiled and went about her business without comment. "Maybe just a blowout and some light makeup," Emma suggested, looking for the easiest way to be done with this embarrassing situation.

  Janie clucked and giggled. "Oh, no honey. Mr. Buchanan gave express instructions for you to have an updo. He wants to see your beautiful neck." Janie leaned down to whisper conspiratorially. "Don't be surprised if he wants to put a lovely necklace on that beautiful neck of yours. Mr. Buchanan loves showing his appreciation for a woman’s attributes."

  "God, I hope not," she muttered, appalled. "I don't want jewelry from him. I don't want anything from him," she couldn't help but add.

  "Be that as it may, Mr. Buchanan gets what he wants and if he wants you to look like a gorgeous princess on his arm that's what he's going to get because that's what he’s paying me for."

  "Not to be rude or anything but is there anything Vince Buchanan can't buy?"

  Janie didn't take offense and answered cheerfully. "Not that I'm aware of. He is a very good customer. In this economy when you find a good client you hold on to him even if sometimes his requests are a little bit different."

  Okay, that comment piqued her curiosity. "What do you mean? How different?"

  "Sorry, nondisclosure."

  "Oh yes, of course,” Emma said. “I'm being required to sign one of those tonight, too. Makes you wonder…what does he wish to hide from the rest of the world? Normal people certainly don’t walk around shoving nondisclosure paperwork in people’s faces the minute they meet unless they have something to hide."

  "Forgive me dear, but you’ve obviously never been around extreme wealth.”

  She frowned. “Well, that’s true but I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

  Janie’s voice was indulgent as she explained, “It's a necessary component when dealing with someone as highly sought after as Mr. Buchanan. You know how many women have tried to put a ring on that man's finger? They’ve chased him from one end of the globe to the other. Not that I blame them, Mr. Buchanan is a beautiful man."

  "I wouldn't say beautiful," Emma said, pursing her lips in disagreement. "Maybe mildly handsome or deviously charismatic or maybe even fiendishly seductive but definitely not beautiful. When I hear the word beautiful I think of nice people — people whose goodness radiates from the inside out. I definitely would not call Vince Buchanan beautiful. The man doesn't have a single cell of innate goodness in his entire body."

  "My my, he's sure made an impression on you I can see. You're probably the only woman in the city who doesn't want a piece of him."

  "Damn straight I don't want a piece of him. At the moment I have too much of him and it's definitely not on my list of desirable."

  Janie chuckled as she quickly blew out Emma’s hair and began setting it in big rollers. "I've worked with Mr. Buchanan for a very long time and I can tell you that while he may bark, he rarely bites. And that's all I’m going to say."

  "Oh, he bites all right." But Emma had to wonder what Janie meant by that. How could she possibly mean that he was all bark and no bite? He’d obviously never threatened Janie's livelihood. Perhaps he had never coerced her into doing something she didn't want to do. "Well, let's just say that perhaps the way he treats you is not the way he treats everyone."

  "Oh, that's entirely possible. But I know a thing or two about people. Comes with the territory. When people sit in my chair I become the therapist. I don't know how it happens but it does. And I can tell you Mr. Buchanan is one of those people who puts the meaning behind the saying ‘still waters run deep.’ Personally, I find a man like Mr. Buchanan fascinating. That and he's definitely not hard on the eyes. If I were just a bit younger and as pretty as someone like you I might be one of the many women chasing him down."
>
  Emma shuddered at the thought. "I'd rather be running in the opposite direction." At that Janie laughed and begin carefully applying Emma's makeup. "So how did you meet Vince?" No offense to Janie but she didn't seem the type to be running around Malvagio. "I mean, you seem nice."

  "Thank you honey, I like to think I am. I met Mr. Buchanan at a fundraiser."

  "Fundraiser?" She barked a short laugh filled with derision. “Fundraising for what?”

  “Breast cancer research,” Janie said, effectively snuffing out Emma’s plethora of rude comebacks she’d been thinking of spouting. “I was one of the speakers as a survivor and Mr. Buchanan was moved by my story. He’s been a loyal client ever since.”

  “Oh.” Now she felt like a jerk. “You’re a survivor?”

  “Yes, ma’am. And every day is a blessing that I won’t soon forget.”

  Should she ask? Emma had to know. “Not that it isn’t a great cause, but why was Vince at a breast cancer fundraiser?”

  “It isn’t for me to say but I can tell you that he feels very strongly about the research and he’s a generous contributor to the cause. Even if he can’t attend the local fundraiser, he always sends a big check. I wouldn’t say this if it weren’t already public knowledge, but it’s because of Buchanan Enterprises that anyone who can’t afford a mammogram can apply for a free exam, courtesy of a special fund facilitated by the Buchanan family.”

  Emma fell silent, unable to process this information. How had her research missed that little nugget of information? Because she hadn’t been looking for positive news about the Buchanans, only the dark, salacious kind that they would’ve been more inclined to hide. “I didn’t know that about the Buchanans,” Emma murmured, momentarily speechless at the information. Well, one good deed did not exonerate them, she told herself. But, she’d be lying if she didn’t admit that the information had tilted her ship just a little.