Exposed

by Naomi Chase

  That’s what I’m afraid of, Tamia mused grimly.

  *  *  *

  When she pulled into her driveway two hours later, she was still preoccupied with thoughts of how to regain Brandon’s trust. So she paid no attention to the dark, nondescript sedan parked across the street.

  Grabbing her belongings, she climbed out of the car and bumped the door shut with her hip. As she started toward the house, she heard the blare of a neighbor’s television and the lazy drone of voices wafting from a nearby porch. Down the street, an ornery dog barked and an arguing couple shouted profanities at each other. The sounds were strangely comforting in their familiarity.

  Balancing her purse, attaché case, and the soggy newspaper she’d retrieved from the bottom porch step, Tamia muttered a curse when she dropped her keys. As she bent to pick them up, she caught a flash of light in her peripheral vision. She glanced up sharply at the dark sedan parked across the street just as three more flash bulbs lit up the night like fire erupting from a shotgun.

  Tamia gasped and stumbled back against her front door.

  As she watched, the driver’s side window rolled up and the mystery car sped off down the street.

  Trembling violently, Tamia rushed inside her house, slammed the door, and hurriedly reset the security alarm. As she sagged against the door, struggling to catch her breath, she considered calling the police to report the disturbing incident. But what, exactly, would she tell them? How could she explain something she herself didn’t understand?

  Who on earth would stake out her home and take pictures of her? Was it a stranger—or someone she knew? And what did the person plan to do with the photos?

  The troubling questions swirled through Tamia’s mind, leaving her more confused and frightened than she’d ever been in her life.

  Calm down, she told herself. There must be a perfectly rational explanation for what just happened. Maybe the driver had the wrong address. Or maybe someone was just playing a prank on you.

  Tamia frowned, instinctively rejecting both possibilities.

  Deep in her gut, she knew that something else was going on here.

  But the truth was too unsettling to even contemplate.

  Chapter 23

  “Thanks for agreeing to meet your mother and me for lunch today.”

  Brandon sent his father a wry look across the linen-covered table.“You don’t have to thank me. You’re my parents.”

  “True,” Bernard Chambers agreed, “but we both know how busy you are, especially with the Quasar Diagnostics trial coming up in June. Speaking of which, I can’t tell you enough how proud we are of you for landing a case of that magnitude. The fact that the partners entrusted you with such a high-profile wrongful-death lawsuit means that your partnership is a foregone conclusion. Not that there was ever any doubt,” he added with a wink.

  Brandon sipped his chardonnay without comment. He didn’t feel like reminding his father that unlike everyone else, he didn’t take his partnership for granted. He wasn’t in the mood for the lengthy debate that would follow such a remark. Truth be told, he hadn’t been in the mood for much of anything lately.

  He’d left work early that afternoon to have lunch with his parents at their sprawling estate in River Oaks, the most exclusive residential community in Houston. The pristine streets and boulevards were lined by rows of white-columned mansions that boasted maids’ quarters and meticulously landscaped lawns and gardens. The eight-bedroom Mediterranean-style house where Brandon and his siblings grew up had been built by their great-grandparents, the first black couple to integrate the affluent neighborhood. The property would eventually be passed down to Brandon, as his parents’ eldest child. In recent months, he’d often imagined living there someday with Tamia and their own children. But now …

  “Is something wrong with your meal, darling?” Gwen Chambers asked, breaking into Brandon’s thoughts.

  He glanced up from his plate.“Hmm?”

  “You’ve been picking at your food since it was served. Is something wrong with the sea bass?”

  “Not at all. It’s perfect.” He smiled wanly. “I’m just not very hungry.”

  Her shrewd, dark eyes narrowed in on his face. She was a maple-toned, elegantly attractive woman who bore a striking resemblance to the actress Diahann Carroll—as she’d been told by everyone from President Obama to criminal defendants who appeared in her courtroom.

  “You look tired,” she observed.

  Brandon’s smile turned wry.“You always say that, Mom.”

  “Only when it’s true.” Lips pursed, she silently appraised him. “You’re not getting enough sleep. Something’s weighing on your mind.”

  “Oh, leave the boy alone, Gwen,” her husband interjected. “He works for one of the top law firms in the country, and he’s preparing to litigate one of the biggest cases of his career. Of course he has things on his mind.”

  Giving his father a grateful look, Brandon said, “Besides, Mom, you didn’t invite me over for lunch to hear about my heavy caseload. You said you and Dad had something important to share with me.”

  “That’s right. We do.”

  Joining hands on the table, Bernard and Gwen beamed at their son. “I’ve decided to run for governor in the next election,” Bernard announced.

  Brandon grinned broadly.“Really? That’s great, Dad. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks, son. Your mother and I figured it was time to make a decision and put an end to the speculation once and for all.”

  “That’s a relief,” Brandon admitted. “Everywhere I go, people are always asking me when you’re going to announce your candidacy. I’ve run out of things to tell them.”

  His father smiled. “Your mother and I certainly didn’t arrive at this decision overnight. There’s a big difference between serving as lieutenant governor versus governor.”

  “That’s true,” Brandon agreed ironically. “You currently preside over the state legislature, which means you technically have more political power than your own boss.”

  “Brandon,” Gwen gently scolded.

  “What? I’m just speaking the truth. Everyone knows that Dad’s already running the show, which is why they’ve been pushing for him to make it official.”

  Bernard laughed, shaking his head at his wife. “What can you say? The boy knows what he’s talking about. He’s a chip off the old block—a constitutional scholar just like his parents.”

  Gwen sighed. “Yes, but we’re going to need David’s full support during the campaign, so we can’t have one of our own children going around saying that he’s merely a figurehead while you’re the brains behind the administration.” She smiled smugly.“Even if it’s true.”

  Brandon and his father chuckled.

  “As I was saying,” Bernard continued, trying to steer the conversation back on track, “going from lieutenant governor to governor will require a whole new level of commitment, responsibility, and sacrifice. If I win the election, your mother will have to take an extended hiatus from the bench to serve as first lady.”

  “But it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make,” Gwen assured him. “Honestly, I’m just looking forward to living under the same roof with you again, instead of only seeing you on the weekends when you drive down from Austin.”

  “Yes, that would be a welcome change,” Bernard agreed, gently kissing her hand. “Although we always make good use of our weekends together.”

  They grinned suggestively at each other until Brandon made a loud gagging noise that drew their attention.

  “If I hadn’t already lost my appetite,” he told them, “that little exchange would have done the trick.”

  They laughed.

  As two uniformed servers emerged from the house to clear their dishes, Brandon absently surveyed his familiar surroundings. His mother had suggested eating outdoors to take advantage of the balmy spring weather. From the flagstone veranda, they could also enjoy the view of an enormous lawn that included a koi pond, a t
ennis court, and an Olympic-size swimming pool and cabana that were bordered by tall manicured hedges and palm trees.

  After dessert had been served, Bernard picked up where the conversation had left off. “Since you’re the oldest, Brandon, your mother and I decided to share the big news with you first.”

  Brandon made a pained face.“And you wonder why Beau and Brooke hate my guts.”

  His mother laughingly guffawed. “Oh, hush! You know how much your brother and sister look up to you.”

  Brandon grinned, sampling a spoonful of his baked Alaska.

  “As you know,” his father continued, “my decision to run for governor means that the entire family will come under intense scrutiny.”

  “Not again.” Brandon groaned. “Didn’t we go through enough vetting when you ran on the ticket the first time?”

  “Yes, but that was over six years ago. A lot can change in that amount of time.”

  “That’s right,” Gwen chimed in. “So we wanted to meet individually with you and your siblings to see if you have any concerns you’d like to share with us.”

  “In other words,” Brandon translated,“you want to know if we have any skeletons in our closets that could be potentially damaging to the campaign.”

  “Well … yes,” Gwen admitted.

  “Not that we expect anything less than model behavior from our children,” Bernard confidently declared.

  “Of course.” Brandon hid a smile in his glass as he took a long sip of wine.

  His parents eyed him expectantly.“Well?”

  “‘Well’ what?”

  “Is there anything you’d like to share with us?” Bernard prodded.“Anything at all?”

  “Well, now that you mention it …” Brandon made an exaggerated show of glancing around the veranda, then leaned across the table and dropped his voice to a low, confiding murmur. “I guess now’s the time to come clean about the sixty grand bribe I took from that corporate embezzler I defended last year.”

  His mother gasped.“Brandon!”

  His father frowned with disapproval. “That’s not funny, son.”

  Brandon laughed.“Relax, folks. I was just kidding.” Leaning back in his chair, he twirled the stem of his glass between his long fingers.“I can assure both of you that I haven’t done anything to make myself a liability to the campaign. Not that I know of anyway.”

  “Good.” Bernard and Gwen traded quick, uneasy glances. “What about that woman you’ve been seeing?”

  Brandon froze mid-twirl and stared at his parents. “How do you know about her?”

  Another shared glance.

  “The last time I saw Mort Chernoff at the country club,” Bernard explained, “he told me about a beautiful young lady you’ve taken to several company functions. He said her name was Tamara—”

  “Tamia,” Brandon corrected. Shit! How could he have forgotten that his father played golf with one of the founding partners of the law firm?

  “Tamia,” Gwen mused, tapping an elegant finger to her lips.“What an … interesting name.”

  Brandon knew by her tone that it wasn’t a compliment.

  “Your mother and I have been waiting for you to mention her. But you never have.” There was a trace of censure in Bernard’s voice.“How long have you been dating her?”

  Brandon hesitated, carefully setting down his wineglass. “Eight months now.”

  “Eight months!” his mother burst out incredulously.

  His father looked equally shocked. “That’s longer than you’ve ever dated anyone, son. You must be getting pretty serious about her.”

  “Maybe.” Brandon saw no reason to tell his parents that his relationship with Tamia had been on shaky ground ever since he’d caught her in a blatant lie—and God only knows what else.

  His mother covered his hand with hers, urgent with cu-riosity.“Who is she, darling?”

  That’s funny, Brandon mused. I’ve been asking myself the same question all week.

  “Her name is Tamia Luke,” he said aloud.“She’s an account executive at Richards Carruth. You’ve probably noticed some of her advertising work on billboards around town. She’s very talented.”

  “Where did she attend school?” his mother wanted to know.

  “She graduated from a local university.”

  “Rice?”

  “No. Not Rice.”

  “I see.” Gwen exchanged a meaningful glance with her husband.“Is she from Houston?”

  Translation:Who are her people and how connected are they?

  Brandon sighed.“Her parents died several years ago. So it’s just her and her younger sister, a junior at Hampton.”

  “Hampton, huh?” Bernard smiled approvingly.“You know President Harvey is an old friend of mine.”

  Brandon chuckled dryly. “Yes, Dad, I know. And, no, you shouldn’t have him look up Tamia’s sister’s transcript.”

  Bernard took umbrage.“I would do no such thing.”

  “I would,” Gwen drawled unapologetically.

  Brandon and his father shared a laugh.

  “So, darling, when do we get to meet Tamia?” Gwen asked smoothly.

  Brandon immediately sobered.“I don’t know, Mom.”

  She frowned. “What on earth do you mean? You’ve been dating this woman for eight months, even taking her to company functions to meet your colleagues. Don’t you think we have a right to meet her as well?”

  “Honestly,” Brandon said sardonically, “I didn’t want you guys raking her over the coals. You know, sorta like you just did with me.”

  His parents had the grace to look sheepish.

  It didn’t last long.

  “There’s nothing wrong with your father and me wanting to make sure that Tamia is suitable for you,” Gwen said in that cool, haughty voice Brandon recognized all too well. “We’re only looking out for your best interests.”

  “Umm hmm.” He knew there was no point in arguing with her.

  She briskly patted his hand. “We’re officially kicking off your father’s campaign with a dinner party here at the house next month. Some of our closest friends, advisers, and supporters will be in attendance. Why don’t you invite Tamia?”

  “Yes, absolutely. Invite her so we can meet her before the campaign gets under way.” Bernard smiled to soften the snap of authority in his voice. “You know I don’t like surprises, son.”

  “Neither do I, Dad,” Brandon murmured, raising his glass to his lips.“Neither do I.”

  “It’s me. Tamia.”

  There was a long pause on the other end.“I thought I told you I’d be in touch when I was ready to see you again.”

  She scowled into the phone.“Nigga, this ain’t some damn booty call. I’m calling about something else.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Tamia glanced in her rearview mirror. The glow of headlights from other vehicles conjured images of demon eyes watching her in the dark night. She swallowed nervously. “I think your wife is having me followed.”

  Dominic paused again.“Why do you think that?”

  “Last night when I got home, there was a strange car parked across the street from my house. The driver took several photos of me before speeding off.” She gulped hard, still shaken by the incident.“And then tonight when I left work, I could have sworn I saw the same dark car following me. I started driving really slow, so he must have realized that I spotted him because he got off at the next exit, and I haven’t seen him since.”

  “Calm down, woman. You sound terrified.”

  “I’m not terrified,” Tamia snapped. “I’m rattled. There’s a big difference.”

  “Are you on your way home now?”

  “No. I have a hair appointment across town.”After that, she was heading straight to Brandon’s condo. She’d packed enough clothes to last her for two weeks. She wasn’t taking any more chances by returning home.

  “I don’t think Isabel is having you followed,” Dominic said quietly.

  “How t
he hell do you know?”Tamia shouted.“You didn’t even know she was stalking me until she showed up at the coffee shop!”

  “Fair enough. But now that she knows who you are, why would she keep following you?”

  “Maybe she’s planning to divorce your cheating ass and take you to the cleaners, so she hired a private investigator to get her the proof she needs. Or maybe she just wants to fuck with my mind. I told you the bitch is crazy!”

  He was silent for a moment, pondering her words.“Have you considered another possibility?”

  Tamia’s heart knocked against her rib cage. She knew what he was going to say, but she didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to believe it.

  “I think the lies you’ve told your boyfriend are finally catching up to you.”

  “Excuse me?” Tamia sputtered indignantly. “And whose fault is it that I’ve been lying to Brandon?”

  “Ah, but even before I entered the picture, you’d already established a pattern of deception.” Dominic chuckled softly. “That’s what made you such an easy target.”

  Tamia felt chilled to the bone.“So this has all been a fucking game to you? Is that what you’re telling me?”

  “Not at all. I miss you, and I can’t wait to be with you again. But I want you to understand that the stakes have just gotten higher—for both of us. Because not only does my wife know about our affair, but it’s highly possible that your boyfriend does, too. Deep down inside, I think you know that the one who’s having you followed isn’t Isabel. And that’s what’s scaring you.”

  Tamia swallowed hard, her stomach churning with dread because she knew Dominic was right.

  “I have to go,” he drawled.“I was in the middle of having dinner with Isabel when you called. I told her it was a business call, but the longer I’m gone, the more suspicious she’ll become.” He paused.“I’ll be in touch soon.”

  And with that, the line went dead.

  Chapter 24