“Jesus!” Alex exclaimed. “Why the hell is it so hot in here?”
“Opens zee pores,” the man said in his accented English. “Yoga.”
“Alex!” his mother squealed as she came bounding over to them.
Dear God.
Alex took in the tight, hot pink, bandeau stretched across her enhanced and perfectly motionless breasts, showing off almost every inch of skin on her upper body. Her “shorts” were even more minimal than “Raul’s,” showing off long, lean legs. There was no denying that, even nearing 50, she had maintained herself quite well since her very profitable divorce from Richard. Alex just wished she didn’t feel the need to prove it so…visually.
He put a fake grin on his face as she skipped over, blonde hair bouncing in a pony-tail behind her. The turquoise-blue eyes he had inherited from her brightened as she hugged him to her, getting the sheen of sweat covering her nearly naked body all over him.
“Thanks Mom,” Alex said angrily, looking down at his wet t-shirt with disgust.
“Oh, baby,” she simpered. “I’m sorry. It’s just so rare I get to see my little boy.”
This was exactly why he’d hesitated bringing Brooklyn here. In Sydney’s eyes, Alex had never grown past 5 years old: her precious little boy. This was the main reason she too, had kept the Wright last name.
He turned to Brooklyn, who was biting her lip to keep the amused smile off her face. This was an important and serious step forward in their relationship. So why did it feel so ridiculous?
“Raul was just helping me with my yoga. Must stay flexible!” she sang out.
Alex didn’t want to think about his mother being “flexible,” especially not with Raul.
“Mom,” he said, tying to get back to the reason he was there. “I came because I wanted to introduce you to—”
“Brooklyn!” Sydney squealed. “Oh yes!”
She looked around past Alex and her smile broadened as she came over to grab Brooklyn’s shoulders and take a good look. “She’s black!”
Brooklyn blinked, unsure if that declaration was a good or a bad thing.
“Mom!” Alex yelled.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sydney said, looking back and forth between the two of them. Then in a concerned whisper she asked, “should I have said African-American?”
“That’s not the point, mom,” he said with exasperation.
“Oh honey, I don’t have a problem with it, if that’s your concern,” she said casting a reassuring glance at both of them. “I love race mixing.”
Brooklyn’s eyes grew even wider.
“Mmm hmm,” Raul agreed, nodding his head.
That was an echo of agreement Alex didn’t need to hear.
“Jesus, Mom!” Could this meeting get any worse?
“Oh, my little Alex has a girlfriend,” Sydney said, pulling Brooklyn in for an embrace, much to her horror.
Sydney pulled herself off of Brooklyn. “You two stay right here. Raul is making me a shake, and you can share some with me. I’m going to shower really quick so I don’t get my sweat all over you,” she said, completely oblivious to the fact that she had already done just that.
Brooklyn looked at the Sydney shaped sweat stain all over her white, off-the-shoulder romper.
“Sorry about that, Brooklyn,” Alex sighed. “She’s—well she’s….”
“Absolutely hilarious,” Brooklyn laughed. “Are you kidding me? Yes, a bit—”
“Ditzy?”
“I wasn’t going to say that but—”
“Ditzy.”
Brooklyn gave him a look of scorn, then laughed, shrugging her shoulders in agreement.
“Jou like apples in yours?” Raul interjected, obviously taking Sydney up on the offer for shakes. He was dancing around the kitchen to some tune going on in his head as he prepped the food to blend. The two of them watched with horrified fascination as his hips gyrated around the kitchen in those tiny yoga shorts of his.
“No thanks, Raul,” Alex said.
“Is good for Jou.” Raul said, giving Alex’s body a once over that he wasn’t entirely comfortable with. “I can see jou work out. Strong core.”
His eyes went to Brooklyn. “And jou. Stairs, no?”
Brooklyn blinked at him.
He just nodded as if that were confirmation. “Zee ass, it no lie,” he said with a wink and a smile.
“Okay, that’s enough, Raul,” Alex grumbled, pulling Brooklyn in possessively. She just giggled into his side, obviously unable to hold it in any longer.
Raul put his hands up in surrender. “Raul, he just observe is all.”
“I’m done!” they heard Sydney’s voice ring out behind them. She came back in, hair wet, wearing a small robe.
“That was quick,” Alex remarked.
“Oh I just rinsed off, since I knew you were here. Normally I take much longer after a work out. Soothes muscles and all,” she said wriggling her shoulders with delicious delight.
“Mmm hmm,” Raul agreed, again in a way that Alex didn’t want to know about.
“So,” Sydney said, placing her hands on the counter and looking between Alex and Brooklyn, her eyes lit up with excitement. “Tell me all about the girl that’s stolen my little Alex’s heart.”
Alex just groaned. Brooklyn smiled to keep from laughing. “Well—”
That’s when Raul hit the button on the blender, drowning out any further conversation.
* * *
“So, now you know the second reason why I avoid New York so often,” Alex said as they finally made their escape two hours later. Even though Sydney had turned on the AC it had done little to improve the sweltering conditions in her loft, and both of them were a sweaty mess.
“She wasn’t that bad,” Brooklyn said, slapping him lightly on the chest.
“I just wish—”
“We all have issues with our parents Alex,” Brooklyn said. “Now, I’ve met the woman. Frankly, I can think of far worse as far as future mothers-in-law go.”
“Hmm,” he said, with a smile “Is that your way of proposing to me?”
She blinked at him, before realizing what she had just said. Then she slapped him again. “We’ve already crossed that road once before. Let’s leave the wedding stuff to Michael and London. It suits them better.”
“Agreed,” he said, not with a tiny bit of disappointment. “I think I need a drink after that. Let’s go find a bar.”
“Yeah, I want to hear all about growing up with Sydney Wright as a mother.”
“In that case, a bar with some very strong whiskey,” he said laughing.
Chapter 47
Brianna Nolton, accused of invasion of privacy and slander, among a million other charges Michael Wright was able to throw her way, was easily found guilty and forced to pay an amount so absurd even what few wealthy friends she had left were appalled…and quickly disappeared when she, true to nature, held out her hand for donations.
Ironically, she was most upset about the reaction of her former BFF, Trina Robbins—at the time a fan-favorite on Celebrity Rehab. A sober and lucid Trina was not too thrilled with the idea that she had been a pawn in the schemes of a “conniving, back-stabbing, bitch,” as she put it in a tweet. She then created the hashtag #BriannaNoltonSucks. Not the most witty phrase, but considering the source, what more could one expect? However, it did the deed, and ended up trending on Twitter long enough for Brianna to lose 80% of her following on every social media outlet she had a presence on. It was devastating.
In the end, she continued her trend of sponging off others, instead of working for herself, by marrying an octogenarian who, much to her chagrin, showed no signs of dying any time soon and, worse, was as randy as a 19-year-old.
Brooklyn almost felt sorry for her…almost.
* * *
As for Dion Davis, a mysterious manilla envelope was sent to various major news outlets including the New York Times, Wall Street Journal and, mostly because a certain anonymous sender wanted to see wha
t the headlines would be, the New York Post. Each envelope held copies of a series of emails between Dion and a few well known scions of industry.
Each email detailed their plan to steal from the funds of the Summer Lunch Program, blaming the loss on a supposed investment in Siverion, the mutual fund company that had failed after a notorious case of embezzlement.
The list of coconspirators was not substantial but it was impressive. It mostly consisted of men who had made their fortunes in industries that had taken a turn for the worse and, as a last ditch effort to salvage their fortunes, had put far too many eggs in the Siverion basket. So it was no surprise to anyone to find Peter Nolton topping the list.
This did nothing to improve Brianna Nolton’s already tainted image, forcing her to become a social pariah by association. By that time, Brooklyn had already forgotten about the girl.
Investigations began immediately. The city treasurer, after negotiating a favorable deal with the D.A.’s office was the first to cave, naming names and pointing fingers.
No one came out unscathed. Least of all, Dion Davis.
* * *
The soon-to-be former state representative didn’t go down without a fight. There were a few people who were now at the top of his shit-list.
At the moment, those people were in intense merger negotiations in Frank’s office at Jefferson, Jefferson, Jefferson & Associates. Michael, having been bought out of his old firm for an obscene amount, was spending more and more time at London’s firm, mostly to happily escort her to and from work and take her out to lunch every day. He had been handling a few legal issues as well. It had been hinted that he should perhaps use all that Douglas & Foster money to buy his own partnership in the Jefferson firm. Hence, today’s meeting. All negotiation was halted at the commotion going on in the main reception area.
Frank, Cleveland, London and Michael stepped out of the office and down the hallway until they found an obviously inebriated Dion Davis hounding poor Brandy as to London’s whereabouts.
“You!” he said, turning a finger toward’s London when she came into view. “You bitch! I know that wife of mine gave you copies of those emails. ”
Michael instinctively took a step to put himself between her and Dion, digging his fingers into his palms.
Frank was the first to speak up. “Dion,” he said sternly, “You’re obviously drunk. Now you need to leave. We’ll call you a taxi—”
“Fuck you, Frank,” Dion spat. “This is between me and that whore daughter of yours.”
“Dion!” Frank said, his reasonable tone all but gone.
Michael had had enough. Once upon a time he had thought there was a bar, below which he couldn’t go with someone in Dion Davis’ position. Today that bar had disappeared.
“I’ve got this one, Frank,” he said, placing a hand on his father-in-law’s shoulder to hold him back. He took two long strides and, quick as lightning, threw a right hook at the man’s jaw, knocking him down on his ass.
This was the second man he had ever punched in London’s honor. This time around, there wasn’t even a hint of regret.
Dion sat on the floor with a rather comical expression as he held his face with one hand.
“You—you hit me!” he stammered.
“And I’ll do it again if you don’t get off your ass and leave right now,” Michael growled.
“You’ll regret that, asshole. I’ll press charges,” Dion said, his fire coming back.
“Not when you have at least two witnesses, my father and me, saying you were the first to attack,” London said, taking a step around Michael to look at the man with contempt.
“Three,” added Brandy, glaring down at the man.
London shot her a smile of appreciation.
“You think I still don’t have friends?” Dion said, getting up off the ground. “I’ve still got a few cards, Frank, and if you think I won’t—”
“I think we should go back to Mr. Jefferson from now on,” Frank said, also glaring at the man. “And it’s time for you to get the hell out of this office.”
Dion stared dumbly between everyone standing in front of him. He raised a finger, about to go into another diatribe, but stopped himself at Frank’s expression and Michael’s warning shake of the head. Finally, he gave them all one last menacing glare and stumbled out of the front door.
Everyone inside let out the breath they weren’t aware they’d been holding in.
Michael turned to Frank. “I’m sorry I had to go there—”
Frank interrupted him. “Don’t apologize to me son. That man was long overdue for a good punch to the face.”
London laughed. “Well, Daddy, I’d say this is maybe a point in Michael’s favor as far as joining the firm.”
“Now, wait just a second, London,” Frank began.
“He does throw a pretty decent right hook, Dad,” Cleveland said in support of Michael.
“I don’t see what that has to do with—”
“And this is a family firm,” London pointed out.
“Yes, but—”
“It makes sense, Dad,” Cleveland said. “He could bring in new business, which we somewhat need after this year. Thanks to Dion.”
Michael just sat back and let his wife and brother-in-law do all the talking. Part of being a good negotiator was knowing when to keep your damn mouth shut. It was a good sign that it was pretty much two against—an admittedly imposing—one.
In the end, it was the punch that had done it. Frank would have never admitted it out loud, but he had respect for a man who was willing to get a bit dirty, especially for his daughter’s honor.
* * *
One month later Dion Davis was arrested for embezzlement and financial fraud and eventually sentenced to 10 years in prison.
Chapter 48
Two Months Later
“Daddy, it just makes sense.”
An oh-so-slightly-starting-to-show London was sitting in her father’s office during their Monday Morning Strategy session. For once Cleveland was on time, most likely because of this morning’s topic of discussion.
Frank sat on the other side of the desk looking back and forth between his two eldest children. His arms were crossed and he had a pout on his face that was so like a 5-year-old’s that London had to keep her amusement in check.
“And you’re okay with this?” he finally asked Cleveland.
Cleveland just shrugged. “She’s right, it makes sense.”
London continued. “This firm is two Jeffersons and two Wrights now. We should change the name.”
“I built this firm from the ground up. Worked hard to make it a success. I brought my own children in, so that they would have a legacy….”
London let him continue with his spiel, having heard it many times before. Besides, she needed him to be complacent.
“…and there’s no way a ‘Wright’ of all names is going to share my letterhead.”
Perhaps it was the protective nature she had over her husband and future (Wright) child, but London decided it was time to play her trump card.
“But, Daddy,” she interrupted. “Just think. You’re the senior partner. You’d have top billing. It would be Jefferson & Wright. Your last name first, before Wright’s.”
That gave him pause.
London gave Cleveland a pointed look. The two of them had agreed early on that the firm should be Jefferson & Wright. London, for obvious reasons. Cleveland, partially because he agreed with her, it was two Jeffersons and two Wrights who were now all partners in the firm. He was also just sick of saying Jefferson, Jefferson, Jefferson & Associates, at the insistence of their father.
“Yeah,” Cleveland said, “You could even make your name bigger. Imagine what Richard would have to say about that.”
London gave her brother a grateful smile, then turned to her father. “Exactly,” she said. “You know how Richard is about these things. His name is plastered over every building he owns, but there would be one where he would have to
share, and your name would be first.”
She could see the smile growing on her father’s face. Part of her was a bit annoyed. Good grief! The two of them, Richard and Frank, were more alike than either of them wanted to acknowledge. Still, she used what ammunition she had in her arsenal.
Frank gave her a suspicious look. “How come you’re so fine and dandy with the Wright name taking second place, even being smaller on the letterhead.”
She actually laughed. “Because I’m not a man!”
That caused both men in the room to frown.
Oops.
“I mean, I just don’t care, as long as it’s up there. We are a family firm, Daddy. You had to see this coming when you brought your daughter on board. Did you think I would be a Jefferson forever?”
“Well, no,” he confessed, then got huffy, “But I certainly didn’t expect a Wright of all peop—”
“And yet you got one. Let the chips fall where they may is the expression, no? Well, you got a Wright. Now it’s time to do the right thing by your daughter and son-in-law, and accept it…fully! Like you always say, this is a family firm, and Michael is your family now.”
“Not to mention, he’s practically doubled our reserves,” Cleveland chimed in.
London sighed. Not helping Cleve.
* * *
In another part of the—name still up for debate—Jefferson, Jefferson, Jefferson & Associates law firm, Michael was having a little meeting of his own.
He had joined the firm not long after being bought out by Douglas & Foster. Most of that had gone into buying his way into the Jefferson, Jefferson, Jefferson & Associates firm, for a sum that, in any other situation, would have had the Wright name front and center.
But Michael understood how negotiations worked. Win-Win was the ultimate goal. The Jefferson, Jefferson, Jefferson & Associates firm was badly in need of cash after a rough year, thanks to Dion Davis. And Michael Wright was in need of a final nudge to completely win over his father-in-law.
Mr. & Mrs. Wright: A BWWM Romance (Wright Brothers Series Book 2) Page 23
