Exposed

by Naomi Chase

  “Thanks for waiting.” She stepped into the elevator, a Louis Vuitton purse slung over her shoulder.

  Brandon stared in surprise.“Mrs. Archer?”

  Isabel Archer harrumphed. “Not for much longer.” She turned and looked at him, her eyes widening with warm recognition.“Oh, hello. We met at the mayor’s fund-raiser dinner. Brandon Chambers, right? The lieutenant governor’s son?”

  “Right.” He smiled, wondering if her husband had told her that he and Brandon were at war. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “You, too.” Her expression soured. “Although these aren’t the most pleasant circumstances for me.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Brandon waited for her to elaborate.

  She did.“I just had a consultation with one of your firm’s divorce attorneys. I’m leaving Dominic.”

  “Really?” Brandon injected just enough gentle concern into his voice to sound convincing.“That’s too bad.”

  “Is it?” Her tone was bitterly mocking. “I’m not so sure about that.”

  Brandon hesitated.“What do you mean?”

  She glared up at the electronic monitor above the doors. “I’m fed up with his damn cheating. I’ve put up with it for years, but enough is enough.”

  Brandon said nothing, keeping his expression carefully neutral.

  But Isabel obviously needed to vent.“The final straw came a few weeks ago. He had the nerve to take his latest mistress home to St. Croix. I caught them having sex in the shower at the hotel where he was hiding her. Some ghetto bitch named Tamyra—”

  “Tamia,” Brandon murmured.

  “Yeah, that’s her name.” Isabel snorted, shooting him a disgruntled look. “That hussy must really get around. Don’t tell me you know her, too?”

  “No,” Brandon said sadly.“I don’t know her at all.”

  Chapter 41

  “I owe you an apology.”

  It was late Friday night. Brandon and Cynthia were in his office, seated around a worktable littered with papers, reports, deposition statements, volumes of the U.S. Code—every manner of legal flotsam. They were poring through documents, silently passing materials back and forth. The trial started in three days. It was crunch time.

  Without glancing up from his reading, Brandon mumbled distractedly,“An apology for what?”

  Cynthia sighed.“For the way I’ve been acting lately. I’ve always prided myself on being a consummate professional, but my recent behavior has been anything but professional. After the way I lectured you about keeping your personal issues out of the office, it was hypocritical of me not to heed my own advice. So I owe you an apology.”

  “Okay.” Brandon nodded, still not looking at her. “Apology accepted.”

  “Thank you,” Cynthia said humbly.

  A full minute passed.

  He sensed that she wanted to say more, so he waited.

  “You may have already heard that Tamia and I had a … disagreement at the dinner party.”

  He nodded.“I heard.”

  Cynthia sighed. “Well, some of the things she said to me cut deep … and I unfairly took out my frustration on you.” Her tone was self-deprecating.“I’m not proud of the fact that I’ve been consumed with jealousy ever since she told me that you’ve been buying her expensive clothes and jewelry and, uh, pleasing her in bed. I know I have no right to be jealous, but—”

  “We’re not together anymore.”

  Cynthia gasped.

  Slowly Brandon raised his head and met her shocked gaze.

  “Did you just say what I think you did?” she whispered.

  He nodded slowly. “As of one week ago, Tamia and I are history.”

  Cynthia gaped at him.“What … happened?”

  His lips twisted into a bitterly sardonic smile.“Let’s just say she’s not the person I thought she was.”

  “I see.” Cynthia pursed her lips, choosing her next words with care. “I’m sorry that you’re hurting—because you obviously are. But I’m not sorry that you and Tamia are no longer together. Honestly, I didn’t think she was right for you—and it has nothing to do with whether or not she has the right background, whatever the hell that means.”

  Brandon nodded slowly in agreement.

  Cynthia hesitated, then set aside the report she’d been perusing and inhaled a deep, steadying breath. As if she were shoring up the courage to speak what else was on her mind.

  Brandon waited.

  “Another reason I was so rattled by the argument with Tamia was that she called me out on something very personal. Something I’d been in denial about for a long time.”

  Brandon remained silent, barely breathing.

  Cynthia bit her lower lip, her eyes trained on his throat, as if she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. “I have feelings for you, Brandon. Very powerful … feelings.”

  He swallowed, staring intently at her.“What about Shane?”

  She shook her head slowly.“I’m not seeing him anymore. After the party I told him that I was being unfair to him, dating him when I knew that I was in love with someone else.” Her eyes lifted to Brandon’s.“In love with you.”

  They stared at each other.

  There was a long, charged silence.

  Without a word passing between them, they got slowly to their feet.

  Brandon started around the table. Cynthia met him halfway. And the next thing he knew they were wrapped in each other’s arms. Lips, teeth, and tongues mashing—sucking, licking, barely drawing breath.

  Gasping, Brandon broke the kiss and knelt down, reaching beneath Cynthia’s skirt and yanking off the scrap of silk between her thighs. And then he was lifting her, and her legs were wrapped around him, her skirt bunched around her hips. The worktable was too low, not the right height. So he swung around and carried her over to his cluttered desk, shoving aside paperwork and files, not caring where they landed. He set her down quickly, and together they attacked his belt buckle and zipper like his pants were on fire.

  And then his dick was stretched out between them, bobbing eagerly in anticipation, veins bulging. She stroked him, a slow, sensual caress, and he groaned with pleasure. Reaching down, he dug inside his pants pocket and fumbled out a condom from his wallet.

  Licking her lips, she watched as he hurriedly sheathed himself. And then he was cradled between her beautiful brown thighs, her ankles crossed behind his back. Their stares locked as he entered her, burying himself deep. He groaned as she flung back her head and screamed in ecstasy. But it didn’t mat-ter. They were completely alone. No one would hear them.

  No one would disturb this groove.

  He began thrusting into her, giving her what she wanted, taking what he desperately needed. This woman had the power to heal him, to make him whole again. If only he’d realized sooner.

  But nothing else mattered right now. There was only this moment, this unleashing of raw, explosive passion … suppressed for so long. He groaned as he pounded into her, telling himself he’d be gentle next time. But she didn’t seem to mind in the least. She was as voracious as he was, hips bucking against his, nails clawing his back hard enough to tear his shirt into ribbons. She was wild and primitive, uninhibited in a way he never would have imagined. It ignited his blood, captured his soul.

  He cupped her face between his hands and seized her mouth, swallowing her cries and moans, thrusting his tongue to the rhythm of his deep, slamming strokes.

  And then she was screaming his name, thighs shaking, pussy walls clutching and contracting around his shaft. His head went back, eyes closed, neck muscles straining as he felt his orgasm rush to the tip and explode, wrenching an exultant shout from his throat.

  Moments later he opened his eyes, and he and Cynthia stared at each other, both recognizing the profound significance of what they’d just done.

  Several seconds passed.

  And then they both laughed, breathless, before Brandon collapsed on top of her, pushing her back onto the desk, keeping their b
odies joined. He nuzzled her flat stomach, her blouse damp beneath his cheek.

  She stroked his head, slowly and tenderly.“I love you,” she whispered.

  And Brandon closed his eyes, smiled contentedly, and thought, I know. …

  Tamia was nervous as she stepped off the elevator and entered the dark reception area that fronted the litigation department of Chernoff, Dewitt & Strathmore. As with her previous visit, the large reception desk was empty.

  But unlike before, Brandon wasn’t expecting her.

  It had been a week since their painful breakup. Since he refused to answer or return any of her phone calls, she’d decided to pay him a visit at the office, to make one last desperate appeal to him. When she arrived, she’d been relieved to encounter the same friendly security guard who’d let her into the building the first time. She’d flirted shamelessly with him, convincing him to let her upstairs so she could surprise Brandon.

  Her stomach was a jumble of nerves as she started down the carpeted corridor toward his office. She knew she was taking a huge risk by showing up unexpectedly, but she had no other choice since she couldn’t get him on the phone. At least she knew she could always find him here, at his job, burning the midnight oil.

  As she neared the end of the darkened corridor, she saw that the door to Brandon’s office was ajar. A sliver of light spilled out into the hallway … along with something else.

  Noises …

  … muffled grunts and moans.

  Tamia’s steps slowed, a horrible suspicion taking root even as Brandon’s voice whispered through her mind.

  I’m talking ghost town here … no one would ever have to know….

  Swallowing hard, she reached the door and peered through the narrow opening.

  Instantly she recoiled from the sight that assaulted her.

  Cynthia was bent over Brandon’s desk, her palms braced on the surface and her legs spread apart as he fucked her from behind. His hands were under her blouse, fondling her small breasts. And his head was thrown back, his face taut with ecstasy as he pummeled her ass, each slapping thrust echoing around the room.

  “Oh God, Brandon …” Cynthia moaned uncontrollably. “Ohhh shit, baby. This is yours … Right there … right there … yes, yesss!”

  Tears rushed to Tamia’s eyes.

  As she watched, too stunned to move, Brandon slipped his hands from under Cynthia’s blouse and grabbed her by the waist. As he fucked her harder and faster, her screams of pleasure were nearly drowned out by the blood pounding against Tamia’s eardrums.

  With a choked sob, she spun away from the door and fled blindly down the corridor, tears gushing from her eyes and pouring down her face.

  The last of her hopes and dreams had been shattered.

  And she realized, then, that this was the way Isabel Archer must have felt.

  Chapter 42

  A week later, Tamia received the summons to her boss’s office that she’d been dreading for the past two months.

  It was Friday—the day that employers notoriously chose for terminating employees. Although Tamia had been working overtime in recent weeks to salvage not only her promotion but her job, she knew her efforts may have come too late. And considering the heartache that the previous two Fridays had brought her, she had no reason to feel remotely optimistic.

  Taking a deep breath and bravely squaring her shoulders, she rose from her desk and marched through the maze of glass cubicles, pretending not to notice the speculative stares of her colleagues.

  Her boss, Steve Hollman, sat behind his desk in the large corner office he enjoyed as a member of senior management. Midforties, attractive, with a shock of black hair and keen blue eyes.

  Tamia hovered in the open doorway. “You wanted to see me?”

  “Yes.” He swiveled away from his computer, gesturing to the chair opposite his desk.“Have a seat.”

  She did, perching tensely on the edge.

  Resting his elbows on the desk, Steve steepled his fingers and calmly appraised her.“How’re you doing?”

  “I’m … fine,” she responded haltingly.

  “Are you?”

  Tamia was silent, mouth dry, pulse thudding against her breastbone.

  “You’ve had some rough stretches these past two months.” Which was his diplomatic way of saying, You’ve been fucking up big time.

  Tamia gulped. “I know, Steve, and I’m really sorry. I’ve been dealing with some … personal issues.”

  He nodded grimly. “I figured as much. But you know what, Tamia? We all deal with personal issues at some point or another. But that’s life—shit happens. When you have clients and team members counting on you to give 100 percent, you can’t afford to deliver anything less. The agency can’t afford it. Especially during these tough economic times when the advertising industry is suffering huge financial losses.”

  Tamia nodded meekly, taking the tongue-lashing as her just due.

  “You’re a hard worker, Tamia. You’ve always been. Which is why it’s so noticeable when your productivity drops off. During the seven years you’ve been here, you’ve established yourself as a workhorse, a team player, someone who’s conscientious and dependable. You’ve established yourself as a leader. So with that said”—a broad grin stretched across his face—“congratu-lations. You’ve just been promoted to assistant brand manager of advertising.”

  Stunned, Tamia stared at him.“Are … are you serious?”

  “As a heart attack. Your recent work on the Houston Rockets account reminded me why I hired you in the first place. Your instincts on their youth literacy campaign were right on the money. I just got off the phone with the team president, who couldn’t stop raving about the ‘fresh, hip’ concept you spearheaded.” Beaming with satisfaction, Steve leaned back in his leather executive chair. “You’ve got talent, Tamia. You’re creative, cutting-edge, and you think outside the box, which are the core principles this agency was founded upon. So I look forward to seeing what else you bring to the table in your new leadership role.”

  Tamia felt like someone had just handed her a lifeline, rescuing her from the abyss. She smiled—her first real one in weeks.“Thank you so much, Steve. I won’t let you down.”

  “I’m holding you to that.”The note of stern warning in his tone was unmistakable.

  Swallowing hard, she nodded to let him know she’d received the message loud and clear.

  “At some point today, you need to stop by Shanell’s office so you can fill out the necessary paperwork for the salary increase.” Steve smiled. “I’m sure she can’t wait to congratulate you.”

  Tamia grinned.

  As she was leaving the office, Steve called out,“By the way, how’s Brandon doing?”

  He might as well have shoved a knife between her ribs. Tamia froze, then turned slowly to face him.“Brandon?”

  “Yeah. Your boyfriend. I’ve been following the Quasar trial in the news—sounds like it’s going really well for Brandon.” Steve smiled ironically. “I’m not sure that I agree with his firm’s defense of a diagnostics laboratory whose employees made a careless mistake that inadvertently caused a man’s death. But I’m impressed, as always, by Brandon’s legal prowess. Innocent or guilty, it seems that he’s the right man to have in your corner.”

  Tamia forced a bright smile.“I couldn’t agree more.”

  And then she left before Steve realized that she’d never actually answered his question.

  *  *  *

  Shortly after she’d returned to her cubicle, her cell phone vibrated on the desk. When she checked caller ID and saw Dominic’s name, a wave of hot fury swept through her. She hadn’t seen or spoken to him since the night of the car chase, when he’d threatened to expose her secrets unless she convinced Brandon to leave his company alone. Now that Dominic had no leverage over her, she relished the thought of cussing him out for all the havoc he’d wreaked in her life.

  But the bane of working in a cubicle was the complete lack of privacy.
So she grabbed her vibrating cell and made a beeline to the ladies’ restroom, locking herself in the nearest stall. She answered the phone seconds before voice mail intercepted.

  “You lowlife, sorry motherfucker,” she began without pre-amble.“You’ve got some damn nerve calling me after—”

  “This is Isabel Archer.”

  Taken aback, Tamia gasped. After several speechless moments, she stammered,“I-I thought you were Dominic.”

  “Clearly.” Isabel sounded coolly amused.“My cell phone is registered under his name. I assume that’s the only reason you took the call.”

  Tamia frowned.“How did you get my number?”

  “From Dominic’s cell phone. I tried your home number first … just in case you’d taken the day off to play hooky with someone else’s husband.”

  Tamia bristled at the insult.“Look, Mrs. Archer, I told you before that I didn’t know Dominic was married when we started sleeping together—”

  “Sleeping?” Isabel snorted derisively.“Based on what I witnessed that day in the shower, I’d hardly classify what the two of you were doing as sleeping. And even if you honestly didn’t know he was married when you first met him, you sure as hell knew by the time he whisked you off to St. Croix!”

  Tamia’s face burned with shame. Propping her shoulder against the side of the stall, she inhaled a shaky breath and let it out slowly.“Look, I’m sorry. All right? I’m truly sorry for any pain I caused you by having an affair with your husband. I know you won’t believe this, but getting involved with Dominic was the absolute last thing I wanted to do, and it damn near cost me everything. So if you think I haven’t suffered the repercussions for my actions, think again.”

  Isabel was silent, pondering her heartfelt words.

  Tamia added,“And in case Dominic hasn’t told you, the affair is over. We haven’t been together since that day you walked in on us. We’re through, and I have no intention of ever seeing him again. So you can stop having me followed!”

  There was a startled pause on the other end.“What are you talking about?” Isabel demanded, sounding perplexed. “I’m not having you followed.”