London laughed…then it hit her. “Claudia Rivera!” she exclaimed. “Oh my god, Michael. It’s so perfect!”
He smiled down at her as he watched her put it all together.
“She hires the females who’ve been subjected to Dion’s disgusting attentions.” Michael felt a white hot anger rise in him as he watched London shudder at the memory of her own encounter with Dion. He suppressed it as he watched her work out the plan he had already devised.
“This way, they get to out Dion for the disgusting pig that he is, maintain their political careers, and Claudia gets bonus points with the female vote while Dion sinks into oblivion. It’s so perfect, Michael!” she squealed, falling back into him.
Then she pulled herself up again. “But you said Marissa wasn’t biting? And how do we know Claudia will go along with this? Dion is still the party favorite, even though that’s seriously waning.”
Michael reached down to pull London back into his chest. “That’s where we come in as a team. As far as the Democratic party goes, they’ll back the winning horse. Claudia Rivera will do the right thing because I suspect she has a bit of integrity, and because it can only help her. I think you’ll be able to bring Marissa around.”
He could sense her doubt in the stiffening of her body against his. “Just talk to her. You both went through the same unpleasant experience. I think you’ll be the one to bring her around…and any others who want to join the fight.”
Chapter 35
Brooklyn, anxiously sipped the champagne from the glass in her hand, just one of the many things that she had to be grateful for when it came to her soulmate. Which was what she had come to think of Alex these days.
It was Wednesday, the date of her very first art showing. Never mind that it took place in a night club during an off night. Never mind that the guest list consisted solely of friends and acquaintances of her “boyfriend.” Never mind that—
She nipped all these negative thoughts in the bud. She looked down at herself, thinking that at least she looked and felt beautiful. She had on a black, silk cami top with silver chains for straps that joined together at mid-back, leaving a stretch of satiny smooth skin with her tattoo on full display. Written in Sanskrit right down the length of her spine were the words: Art is my life, my life is art.
It was fitting that it should be so blatantly exposed, especially tonight of all nights.
Her knee-length skirt was a geometric pattern that looked as though the designer had sewn several white rectangles with black edges together creating an uneven hemline.
She matched the geometric feel of her outfit with bold earrings of a large, silver hexagonal shape from which a large matching triangle hung. Her wrists had two large cuffs made out of diamond shaped onyx pieces welded together.
She had somehow managed to bundle her natural hair into a large bun on her head, deceptively held together with nothing more than two black chopsticks. In reality there were a million bobby pins holding it all in place.
She walked through the small foyer on the arm of her boyfriend in gladiator heels that extended just past her ankles. Even though she had no problem walking in heels, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to manage making it into the club if she hadn’t been clinging to his arm, full of nervous anticipation.
“Don’t be nervous,” he said, sensing exactly what she was thinking. “Your work will sell itself. All you have to do is sit there and look pretty.” He bent over to kiss the tip of her nose, making her smile and easing her anxiety.
She looked over at him dressed in dark gray fitted slacks and jacket with a black dress shirt open underneath, the top button casually undone. It brought out the turquoise in his eyes with sharp contrast as they winked down at her.
As they walked into the main club area of Jalouse, she stared around in wonder. She’d been there with Alex during the opening, when it actually functioned as a nightclub. Tonight it looked far different. It was hosting a special event—her special event—and the colorful strobe lighting had been replaced with bright white, strategically placed lights, bringing out the details of her canvases.
Each piece was set up on its own easel around the main floor area. She was pleased to see at least 5 or so people surrounding each of the works. There was a table set up on the side with hors d'oeuvres and the bar was in full operation. Waitresses walked around with glasses of champagne and Brooklyn noted the white wigs and corset tops that was the usual attire of Club Jalouse. Somehow it all worked perfectly.
“Excuse me everyone,” Alex said, grabbing two glasses of champagne from the tray of a nearby waitress. He replaced Brooklyn’s empty one with a new one. “May I have your attention!”
“Puis-je avoir votre attention!” he said again in French.
That quieted most everyone down as they turned to look at the couple that had just entered. Brooklyn’s heart began beating faster and she wanted nothing more than to down the glass of champagne in her hand, but she held it together while Alex introduced her.
“I’d like to introduce the artist of the work that you have all come out to view—and hopefully purchase—tonight. This is Brooklyn Jefferson.”
He repeated everything in French and after she heard her name repeated again for the final time, there was a surprisingly boisterous applause, that caused her face to get warm with embarrassment and gratitude.
Alex brought his glass over to hers and clinked it. She bit her lip, smiling as she looked up at him, thinking she couldn’t love him any more than she did tonight.
Then she swallowed the champagne in one large gulp.
* * *
After several more glasses, Brooklyn had actually started to enjoy herself. It didn’t hurt that over half the pieces had already been sold by the time she had arrived.
She wandered around explaining her process and inspiration and “statement” to inquirers, often needing Alex to translate in French. It didn’t bother her; it meant he stayed by her side the whole night.
A DJ on the upper level had started playing French pop music in the background and the champagne and open bar had turned the showing into more of a party feel by the end of the night.
Right now she was standing in front of Paris at Dawn, admiring the pink and purple hues overlaying digitally created geometric shapes that had a semblance of Paris architecture. It completely captured the feel of the morning she and Alex had spent on the balcony of his apartment months ago. It already had a SOLD sign on it when they arrived.
She felt him come up behind her and wrap his arms around her, putting another glass of champagne in her hand. She smiled and leaned back into him.
“Someone has bought your favorite piece,” she said.
“Lucky man,” he murmured.
She laughed lightly then sighed. “I can’t believe you did all this, it all feels so surreal.”
“It’s real, babe, and it’s all you.”
“Well, you did most of it,” she replied.
“Hey,” he said, leaning down closer to her ear. “All I did was bring the horses to the water. You’re the one that made them drink.”
“It never would have happened if it wasn’t for you.”
“It would have happened, you just needed a helping hand. Everyone does, you just have to be willing to accept it. You think I’m able to do what I do for a living because I just fell into it? I was born with a big fat platinum spoon in my mouth and that earned me a lot of benefits in life. What good am I if I can’t pass those on?”
He took her shoulders and spun her around to face him.
“Brooklyn, you’re so reluctant to accept help, whether it’s from your family or your boyfriend,” he laughed. “I basically had to lure you over here by not telling you what I had planned.”
She looked at him then broke out in a smile and nodded. “Okay, okay. By the way,” she added, squinting one eye closed and twisting her face, “I don’t think I thanked you properly.”
“Well, you’re very welcome,” he said.
She leaned in closer to him. “Oh, that wasn’t my thank you,” she whispered in his ear, then smiled seductively and wandered off to mingle and dance with the crowd that was really beginning to enjoy themselves.
Chapter 36
Around the time Alex was convincing Brooklyn to embrace the idea of accepting a helping hand, Michael was escorting London to a private meeting with a certain candidate for Mayor.
They were in her office at her campaign headquarters and London watched the woman across from her with quiet admiration.
“I have to say,” Claudia Rivera began, crossing her legs and leaning back in her chair to look back and forth between the two of them speculatively, “this meeting could get me in a lot of hot water, politically.
“The son of the leading Republican candidate—well formerly leading.” She gave Michael a wryly amused smile, which he more than willingly returned.
“And you,” she said turning to London, “could get into trouble yourself meeting with me. Didn’t you represent Dion Davis once upon a time? I have to say, I don’t like conflicts of interest. We both went to law school. You know the rules.”
London took the ball volleyed to her side of the court and tossed it right back. “Well, let me assure you, this meeting has nothing at all to do with Dion Davis. I’m here solely on behalf of certain individuals who are interested in becoming members of your campaign.”
Claudia actually laughed. “Let’s hope the ethics board sees it the same way,” she replied.
“As I told Mr. Wright—”
“Michael, please.”
Claudia gave him a patient smile, “As I told Michael, I can’t steal staff from another Democratic candidate. It would destroy my campaign before it begins, no matter what distasteful acts he’s been accused of.”
London and Michael looked at each other then nodded. “So basically you’re asking them to come forward first, then leave to join your team,” Michael said.
“I’m not asking them to do anything,” Claudia said, giving him a warning glance.
He gave her a smile. “Understood.”
“If they did come forward with their accusations and left the Davis campaign, would you take them on as staff members of your own campaign?” London asked, getting to the point.
“Officially? I can’t make promises,” Claudia said.
London felt her stomach drop. This was going nowhere. The woman was already in politician mode.
“Unofficially,” Claudia continued, “it would look very good for my campaign if I were to graciously offer to hire members of the Dion Davis campaign who had been subjected to sexual harassment and took the heroic stance of publicly accusing him, no doubt causing them to either be fired from or willingly leave his camp. After the fact of course,” she stressed.
The three of them stared at each other, coming to an understanding. Marissa and any other women who wanted to step forward, would have to make the first move.
Claudia stood up, signaling an end to the meeting. “We of course never had this meeting,” she said as she walked them to the door.
“What meeting?” Michael said as he walked through the crowded floor of her campaign headquarters.
* * *
“I should probably leave you both to it,” Michael said, getting up from the booth the three of them were seated at, later that day.
“You can’t point the finger yourself, so you want me to do your dirty work,” Marissa began, looking at London.
Michael had ordered a drink for Marissa which she sipped eagerly. London drank from her own glass of water as she chose her words wisely.
“I did try pointing the finger. You saw what happened to me,” she said.
“Exactly!” Marissa said. “What makes you think I want the same thing?”
“It wouldn’t be the same—”
Marissa gave a sharp sarcastic laugh as she sipped her drink.
London looked at her. This was a far cry from the sweet and nice girl she’d first met with the Davis campaign. Even if she had ended up with London’s ex, she’d never seemed so bitter.
“He’s obviously done some number on you,” she noted.
Marissa’s eyes shot up to look at London. “What do you mean?” she asked suspiciously.
“You’re different. Which is why I can’t understand why you wouldn’t take this offer being handed to you. Yes, it will be tough, but is it any worse than working for that…man.” London spat the last word, remembering how disgusted she felt after her interaction with Dion Davis.
Marissa just looked off to the side.
“I know you aren’t the only one he’s messed with. You could all form a united front. What could he do then?” London urged.
“What could he do?” Marissa asked looking at her incredulously. “Why do you think he threw Clayton under the bus with that whole Summer Lunch Program thing? Because he was dating me.”
London looked at her with surprise.
Marissa gave her a patronizing smile. “You don’t think Clayton actually had anything to do with that, do you? Totally innocent,” her eyes blinked toward London guiltily. “I mean, what he did to you and the firm was totally wrong. He deserved to be disbarred for that. It was pretty shitty.”
London nodded, remembering how terrible that period of her life was. Good riddance to the bastard.
“All the same, as far as Dion Davis goes, that’s the kind of man you’re talking about here,” Marissa pointed out.
She looked up at London, questioningly. “So Claudia Rivera is willing to take us on if we do this?”
London held back a grimace. “Officially, she can’t say that. But I have it on good authority that—”
“Fucking politicians,” Marissa interrupted with a mutter, shaking her head and frowning at the table. “All the same, aren’t they? Covering their asses.”
“Well, you have to understand where she’s coming from,” London said.
“Do I?”
“If you want to do this, you do.”
Marissa looked at her, not responding.
London sighed. “Do you really want to go on working for that man? I only had a small taste of what it was like. I can’t imagine being subjected to it over and over.”
The angry look that came over Marissa’s face told her that her suspicions were true. She reached out a hand to take Marissa’s. There was an initial flinch to remove it, then she relaxed.
“Michael is an excellent attorney,” London assured her. “He will be right there supporting you. I can’t, at least not legally, but I can join my finger with yours when you point it at Dion Davis.”
Marissa just looked off to the side. “You know I didn’t start dating Clayton until after he….”
The change in topic made London blink. Even though the break up was months ago, and she now had a near-perfect man in her life, it was still painful.
“I know,” London, said truthfully, not that it mattered to her anymore.
“I’ll talk to the others,” Marissa said, then turned to look London in the eye. “I won’t do it alone. I can’t, I’m just not that strong. But if they’re willing, I guess…maybe.”
It was the best London could hope for.
Chapter 37
While London was trying to convince Marissa to do the right thing, Brooklyn and Alex were in celebration mode.
Every piece had been sold. Brooklyn and Alex stumbled up the stairs to his Paris apartment in a champagne fueled elated daze.
“I can’t believe you got all those people together,” Brooklyn said out loud, no doubt waking the neighbors as they made their way to the top floor. “Who were they?”
He laughed and held a finger to her mouth, reminding her of the fact that it was 3 o’clock in the morning on a weekday.
“Acquaintances, friends, friends of friends, friends of friends of friends, friends of—”
“Okay, okay,” Brooklyn laughed drunkenly, biting her lip as she realized her voice was raised. “I get it,�
� she whispered.
“Honestly, I spent the past week partying my ass off to get them to come out tonight.”
“Ohhhh,” she teased. “That sounds awful.”
“Seriously, you have no idea how hard it is to drink champagne and dance all night long,” he said in a tone that was not entirely mocking, “I never thought I’d get tired of partying.”
“Hmm, does that mean I should cancel the one I have planned for tonight?” she mused, with a teasing smile.
“Actually, on that note,” he said, stopping her at the front door, “ wait right here.”
She looked up at him questioningly.
“Trust me,” he said bending down to kiss her forehead, making her smile.
After tonight, Brooklyn would trust Alex forever. She stood there, teetering on her heels in anticipation while Alex went inside to complete whatever it was that he had in store. Finally, he opened the door and pulled it back allowing her access to the apartment.
There were rose petals along the floor leading a path to the bedroom.
“What is all this,” she said smiling.
“I know it’s cliché,” he said, “but in all fairness, my mind has been in a sleepless, champagne and Hennessy induced haze for the past week.”
Brooklyn turned to look at him “It’s perfect.”
She reached up to wrap her arms around his neck.
“Well, you haven’t seen the good part yet,” he said.
“I’ve got the good part right here in my arms,” she replied, kissing him.
He chuckled under her lips as he lifted her up off the ground, carrying her to the bedroom. “Well, I did put some thought into it so, let’s go have a look shall we?”
As he pushed through the door, Brooklyn’s back was still to the bedroom. He ordered her to close her eyes and she did. Setting her on the ground, he took hold of her shoulders and spun her around to face the room.
Mr. & Mrs. Wright: A BWWM Romance (Wright Brothers Series Book 2) Page 18
