Someone cleared their throat. “Am I interrupting something?”
Symone pulled away flustered, turning to meet Brooklyn’s surprised face.
“Brook!” Symone said. Symone’s thoughts were jumbled. But Mason’s piercing gaze was steady on Symone’s succulent lips.
Slowly Symone turned back to Mason. “Um…” she rattled, “My friend is here to give me a ride home. I’ve taken up enough of your time today.” Her voice was sultry with a throaty heaviness.
“I don’t mind taking you home, Symone,” he offered. “In fact, it would be my pleasure.”
The heat rising from Symone turned into a furnace. Symone shook her head vehemently. “Raincheck,” was all she said.
He pulled back from Symone, finally giving Brooklyn a glance. Then, Mason returned his eyes to Symone. “I’ll check on you in a little while,” he assured.
“Okay.”
“This isn’t over,” he promised. Mason’s eyes fell to her lips again before he walked away.
Mason gave a slight head nod to Brooklyn as his stride took him passed her and out of the room.
Brooklyn arched a brow. “Somebodies got some explaining to do…”
Chapter Twelve
“What was that all about?”
Drew returned her eyes to the man she was sitting next to. He could ask the question now that they were removed from the commotion.
Drew wasn’t sure what she should say next. The level of shock she was experiencing from the situation with Symone following her, nearly paled in comparison to the man sitting next to her. Her heart was already in her throat when she entered the car to meet the connection. When she saw him, Drew’s heart nearly stopped. But she had to compose herself, to some degree, and for more than one reason. Taking a deep breath, Drew faced her source.
“I’m still trippin’,” she began. The same heat that rose in her cheeks when she stood in front of her dream man in the museum just minutes before, was the same exact heat she felt now.
“Did you know, I mean, did you make the connection?”
Legend smiled. She was an uncanny beauty, and her innocence made her even more attractive.
“No,” Legend replied. “I had no idea you were you.”
They both smiled. Even their open conversation sounded clandestine and mysterious.
“So…,” Drew began, fidgeting in the passenger seat. “Does this change anything for you?”
Legend sat back, relaxing in the driver’s seat. When Drew raised the question, she turned away from him, unsure of his response. This could be a precarious situation, and he understood not only the question but her hesitation.
“I come into the museum for two reasons, Drew,” Legend began. “I love the artwork… the masterpieces hanging on the wall…” He reached across and gently touched her chin, turning her face toward him. “… and you…”
Drew felt her protective wall giving way under his penetrating gaze. Legends’ eyes could melt wax, baby, and Drew found it hard to maintain her composure. She felt like he was looking through her, like he really saw her. She flashed to how the girls bashed Symone about her man crush and decided to shore things up. Keep it tight Drew, keep it tight, she chided herself before answering.
“So does that mean our arrangement is compromised,” Drew inquired, trying to bring the conversation back to a professional level, even though her knees were weak.
“I can still move the merchandise, that’s not a problem,” Legend replied confidently. And then he smiled, slowly. “I’m a professional,” he joked.
“Okay, Mr. Professional,” Drew teased back.
Legend liked Drew’s quick wit. He had designs on her and wanted to be clear. “The real question is,” Legend began, “will our professional relationship keep us from having a personal one?”
Brooklyn didn’t wait until they were out of the hospital before lighting into Symone.
“Explain!”
“Keep your voice down,” Symone replied, looking around embarrassed.
“Damn that Symone,” Brooklyn exploded. “Explain!”
Symone grabbed Brooklyn firmly by the wrist and wrestled to lead her the remaining feet to the exit door. Brooklyn resisted, not caring who overheard her.
“You gone tell me what the hell is going on, or I will turn this hospital all the way out. Now, explain!”
Brooklyn stopped their forward momentum just short of the door. Symone had no choice but to stop with her.
“Brooklyn,” she began, looking over her shoulder to see just how much of a scene they’d already caused. “I will explain everything, promise. But can we please go outside with this, please?” Symone looked around again, and ducked her head in her shoulders when she caught the glaring eyes of onlookers.
Brooklyn reluctantly acquiesced, allowing herself to be dragged out of the door. But the automatic-action door hadn’t completely closed before she addressed Symone again.
“What the fuck were you thinking? Don’t answer that, ‘cause clearly, you weren’t thinking… well, not with your damn head anyway.”
Brooklyn snatched away from Symone and walked several feet down the paved walkway. Symone chased behind her, all the while trying to figure out what she could say to Brooklyn. Symone could see from her slothful approach that Brooklyn wasn’t having it. Brooklyn’s hands were on her hips, and she was standing flat-footed, waiting.
“It’s not what you think,” Symone started as she got within ten feet of Brooklyn. It was the warm-up. Symone prayed there was more in the well.
“I didn’t plan for it at all,” Symone continued when there was no audible response from Brooklyn. “See what happened was, I was trailing Drew to her meet-up, and I realized, somebody was following me; the same person I saw in the museum when I was first watching Drew. Can you believe the trail rear-ended me? She was so busy trying to see what I was doing she wasn’t paying attention to what she was doing and hit my doggone car!”
Symone rubbed her neck for effect. Brooklyn still didn’t say anything; just shifted her weight from one foot to the other. The scowl on her face was unmoved.
They were standing face to face now; one looking pensive and hopeful, the other still pissed off. It was awkwardly tense. Symone looked away more than once, unable to bear Brooklyn’s glare.
“None of the shit you said makes a bit of damn difference.”
Brooklyn was seething at Symone’s shortsightedness.
“But I was just—”
Brooklyn cut Symone off before she could finish. Symone’s lame ass explanation was making things worse not better. Exacerbated by the whole situation, Brooklyn responded. Symone turned away knowing her excuses weren’t working.
“He saw me, Symone… he saw me, with you…”
When Symone turned back around to face Brooklyn, her mouth was agape. The realization as to why Brooklyn was so pissed registered like an anchor dropping on dry land. Her hands immediately went to her head as flashes of their past crimes and the connections Mason could now make raced through Symone’s mind. She knew she fucked up.
“…damn girl…I’m—”
Again, Brooklyn wasn’t there for the excuses or the apologies.
“You jeopardized everything, everything Symone! And for what? Some FBI dick?”
Symone had no reasonable response, so she said nothing.
“… you make me sick…”
Before anything else could happen, before Symone could muster up any new words to try, Brooklyn popped her lips, turned and walked away. The sinking feeling Symone had in the pit of her stomach was nearly enough to make her physically ill. As judgmental as she had been for the side steps and perceived missteps of the other girls in the group were nothing compared to the catastrophic mistake she just made. Symone couldn’t even convince herself that it was a matter of her not thinking. It was so much bigger than that. Brooklyn was right. She could have screwed the whole thing up because of a man.
Leah contemplated whether she should share the
letter from the court with the girls. Everyone was already dealing with so much. This would be yet another thing to pile on the already highly stacked pile of anxiety driven things to worry about.
“Mom, did you hear me?”
James and Leah were having dinner, but Leah didn’t have much of an appetite. She had been so lost in her own thoughts, she scarcely heard James talking.
“Sorry, big man,” Leah replied; disengaging from her own worries and focusing on what was really important.
“I need you to help me decide what I’m going to do for the science fair this year.”
“When is the fair again?”
“Mom, seriously?” James asked. “We have only been talking about it for the last two weeks. The date is even circled on the calendar on the refrigerator.”
“Remind me again, James, please?” Leah said, smooshing his hair. She knew he hated that, but it would always bring a smile.
James got up from the kitchen table and walked the short distance to the refrigerator. Removing the brightly colored magnets that held the calendar in place, James returned to the table and placed it in front of his mom.
“See,” he pointed to the date circled in red. “July 25th.”
Leah looked down at the calendar and indeed, that date was circled in bright red marker. It was like a jab to the heart.
“I see,” she replied without looking up. James repositioned himself at the kitchen table and resumed his dinner, shoving a forkful of green beans and mashed potatoes in his mouth. He didn’t wait until he sufficiently chewed before addressing his mother again.
“So, think mom, what are we going to do?”
Leah knew James was talking about the project. But what was she going to do about him?
Brittany couldn’t believe her partner left her stranded at the scene with no regard as to how she would get home. Even before the tow truck could arrive, her Captain was on the phone. Somehow he learned of the car accident before she had opportunity to tell him.
“I want a full fucking report on my desk immediately!”
“Yes sir,” Brittany answered. “I have called for a tow, but I don’t have a way back to the station.” She started to rat her partner out; tell the captain how he’d left her stranded. But before she could decide whether that was the next best move, the captain responded.
“Agent Stinson.” He waited until she replied to ensure she was listening.
“I know you are not trying to make that a concern for me, are you?”
Brittany knew better than to reply.
“I don’t care if you take a bus, train, cab, walk, hitchhike or tie a string to a gottdamn carrier pigeon, you get your ass back to this office and get me my damn report!”
Chapter Thirteen
Drew paced back and forth. What the hell was Symone doing following her and why wasn’t she answering her phone? Drew slid a hand across her forehead and paused, trying to settle her racing heart. What was going on? One minute she was having the most pleasant conversation with Legend and the next they were almost caught up in a traffic jam. Even after the exchange had been completed, Drew was stilled troubled by whatever was going on with Symone.
Legend had reassured Drew that knowing she was the seller wasn’t a problem for him. So they’d proceeded with Legend transferring dividends from his buyer’s account to Drew’s offshore account and Drew in return handing over the Saliera. They parted, going their separate ways so Legend could hand over the buyer’s prized possession and Drew could find out just what the hell was going on with Symone.
Just then her phone chirped. Swiftly, Drew connected the call.
“Hello!” irritation laced her voice.
“I can explain,” Symone began.
Drew rested her free hand on her hip. “You were following me, that much is clear.”
“Yes, I was, but it’s not because I didn’t have faith in your ability to get things done. It’s because I didn’t want you to be alone. I just wanted to have your back in case anything went down. I even took a snapshot of the guy’s license plate.”
“Bullshit!” Drew fumed.
“You were there to watch me because you didn’t believe I could get the job done. Just face it Symone, you’ve always thought I was a screw-up.”
“What the hell, Drew! I haven’t always thought that at all.”
“Lie to me again,” Drew said. “I swear to God, Symone!”
Drew’s feet moved, and she began to pace. “You could’ve ruined everything! I had the Saliera on me. What would’ve happened if I’d been caught up in that accident, huh? With a fucking federal agent no less!”
Drew was screaming; completely and utterly livid with Symone.
“I see you’ve talked to Brooklyn,” Symone stated flatly.
“Sure have, and she told me everything I needed to know. You should pay more attention to yourself and the way you’re fucking up with Mason,” she spat, saying his voice in a singsong mock.
“You know what, you’re right. From now on I’ll mind my own business.”
The line died, and Drew’s eyes bugged out.
“Hello?” she screeched. “Oh I know that heifer didn’t just hang up on me!”
Drew snatched the phone from her ear and glared at the screensaver floating around her phone. Symone had surely hung up. She had some nerve! Drew mused.
“I need a fucking drink.”
Drew jumped in her car and drove to Lamar’s Pub off Davison’s and Bowery. Whipping the vehicle into a parking spot, Drew climbed out and stalked through the door. At first glance, the bar seemed infested with young adults. But a closer look revealed men in jerseys that supported the team they favored crowded around pool tables and flat screen TV’s to watch the game.
Drew strutted to the bar flopping down on a barstool.
“What can I get you?” The tall, slim bartender questioned. The man eyed her closely already noticing that her day wasn’t going too well by the frown broadcasted in her gloomy features.
“I’ll have whatever you’ve got that’s strong.”
The bartender’s brows rose. “That could be a number of things.”
Drew let out a discontented breath. “Look, just make me something. Surprise me. Just give me what you’ve got.”
The bartender slid away uninterested in getting into a tiff with her. When he returned, a short glass with two ice cubes and clear liquid was produced. Without hesitation, Drew knocked back the liquor. The piercing sting of the alcohol coursed down her throat settling in her belly, bringing an instant heat to her core. Drew sighed. It was just what she needed. A fast-paced melody shrilled from her smartphone. Drew cast an eye at the screen. It was Brooklyn, most likely calling to find out her whereabouts.
“After all,” Drew mumbled, “I can’t be left alone. I’m incapable of doing anything without assistance.”
The ringing phone stopped but picked right back up with the same tone moments later. Drew rolled her eyes and answered, “What can I do for you, sis?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m at where I’m at, and I’ll be where I’ll be, is there anything else?”
Brooklyn was silent for a moment.
“I’m not your enemy,” Brooklyn offered.
“What. Do. You. Want. Brooklyn?” Drew was passed the small talk. She whistled for the bartender. “Can I get another one, please?” Drew watched him make her drink.
“How about this, when will you be home?”
“I don’t know.”
Drew’s nonchalant answers annoyed Brooklyn to no end. But, she understood her kid sister was probably still angry about everything that happened with Symone earlier, so she tried unsuccessfully to reach her another way.
Drew grabbed the glass from the bartender and rotated the barstool she sat in resting her back against the bar. Her eyes floated around the room stopping short on a familiar face sitting at a lone table watching her.
“I don’t want to fight with you,” Brooklyn assured her. “I
just called to talk.”
Approaching her now, Drew watched with inquisitive eyes as an incandescent need covered her.
“Sis, I gotta call you back.”
Drew closed the call before Brooklyn had a chance to object. He was standing mere inches in front of her now. Drew tossed back the rest of the liquor allowing a quaint smile to pull at her lips.
“Hello again,” she offered.
“Good evening, I couldn’t help but notice you sitting here at the bar.”
“Is that right?”
“It is.”
“I guess next you’ll tell me it was meant for us to see each other again?”
A deep groveling laugh oozed from him. “It doesn’t seem that I need too, since, you already know it.”
Drew took another glance around the room before settling her eyes back on him. “It’s nice to see you outside of the museum. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were following me.” She paused, “Are you following me, Legend?”
He took a step towards her, closing the gap. “What if I told you I was, would you be alarmed?”
“Should I be?”
His tongue snaked out of his mouth and swiped at his top lip.
“Maybe…”
Drew’s sour mood was removed and replaced by a courageous one. Legend’s gaze fell to the now empty glass in her hand.
“I was getting ready to leave, would you like to join me?”
Drew inhaled a deep breath. “As a matter of fact, I would.” She rose from her seat and placed the glass on the bar. In her small handbag, Drew fished out loose bills and dropped them on the counter. She turned to Legend.
“I’m ready whenever you are.”
Legend held a hand out. “After you.”
Drew sashayed out the door, going straight for his truck. Like a gentleman, Legend opened her door allowing Drew to get in before saddling his own seat behind the wheel.
Legend’s cologne was alluring enough that Drew wanted to lean over and bite him. But at least for now, she would keep her mouth to herself. On the road, Legend glanced to her.
Prowl (Nothing Else Matters But Survival Book 1) Page 8
