by Jolie Day
CJ didn’t get the hint.
He stepped up close to her—far closer than absolutely necessary—until their bodies were nearly brushing, and locked his eyes on hers as he softly tugged the manila envelope out of her hands. “Thanks, darling,” he husked, his hot breath washing over Brooke’s face until she took a large step back, furrowing her brow in disgust. She wrapped her arms around herself as she stood off to the side. CJ gave her a sickening smile and shared a grin with his two associates, before turning back to Anthony.
“Now this is what I’m talking about,” he said. “Thanks, cousin. Looks like we have your loyalty, after all.” He opened the envelope and glanced inside, his smile growing tenfold. “Not as much as I’d been hoping,” he continued, “but it’s enough. For now.” He closed the envelope and handed it to one of his associates. “But the boss will be wanting more soon enough.”
“You mean your father?” Anthony huffed. “Tell him to go fuck himself.”
Brooke’s eyes widened at that, but CJ just chuckled and shook his head. “You’re lucky we’re friends, Tony,” he said. “Otherwise, I might have to start fitting you with cement shoes.” Brooke watched as something sinister flashed in his eyes and she begged Anthony to keep quiet with her eyes. He opened his mouth to say something else, but he must have caught the look she was sending him because, suddenly, his mouth clamped shut and he just nodded.
“Whatever,” he said. “Leave my office now, CJ. I have work to do.”
“We all do, Tony,” CJ retorted, slicking his hair back. “We all do.”
He turned on his heel and started out the door, his lackeys on his trail, before turning to the cowering Brooke, who tried to force her face into a look of disgust and distrust. He just grinned at her, looking her up and down as committing her figure to memory.
“It was nice to meet you, Miss…?”
She refused to give him her name, but he just shrugged. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again. Good day.” He nodded at her, before snapping his fingers and walking out the door with his associates on his heel.
Once they were gone, Brooke turned back to Anthony with a furrowed brow and a twisted frown on her lip, almost daring him to lie to her.
He didn’t. Not exactly.
“They’re old friends of mine,” he sighed, sitting down at his desk and running his fingers through his hair. “I used to work for CJ’s father.”
“Carmine Bianchi?” Brooke asked and Anthony’s eyes snapped up to look at her.
“Where’d you hear that name?” he asked.
“There are rumors,” she replied, evasively. “Anthony, are you in trouble?”
He took a deep breath and shook his head, but not like he was answering her. It was more like he was trying to gather his thoughts. He waved a hand toward the office door, which was cracked open still. “Shut the door,” he said.
Brooke did as he asked, pushing the door closed until she heard the ‘click’ of the mechanical lock. When she turned back to Anthony, she found ire and annoyance in his eyes. He was standing now, at the front of his desk, his arms folded across his chest as he glared at her.
“What were you thinking?” he hissed.
“Excuse me?” Brooke frowned, stepping back.
“You must have heard the voices,” Anthony practically growled. “Why would you stand there and listen in on my private conversations?”
Brooke gasped and made a face like he’d just slapped her. Immediately, Anthony softened and leaned back against his desk.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “That was out of line. I just…you could be in real danger with CJ and his goons, you know that? They’re not the kind of people you want to associate with.”
“You seem to be pretty close to them,” Brooke pointed out.
“I was young and stupid and I thought I was in love.”
“In love?”
“It was stupid,” he evaded, shaking his head. “She was just playing me anyway. Married to CJ now, with several little brats of their own; the heirs to the Bianchi fortune.”
“Bianchi…that was Carmine Bianchi’s son then?”
Anthony nodded. “Carmine Bianchi Jr. Not exactly the spitting image of his father, but close enough.” He took a deep breath. “Anyway, I really don’t want to be talking about this, least of all with you. So let’s just…change the subject. Alright?”
“Fine,” Brooke acquiesced. “Then why haven’t we spoken in two days? Did I do something to upset you?”
Anthony shook his head and stepped forward, reaching out for her hands. He took them into his own and squeezed. “It’s not like that, at all,” he said. “I just didn’t want to involve you with something like…this.” He motioned toward the door, out of which CJ and his cronies just left. “I don’t want them coming after you just to get back at me, you know? It wouldn’t be fair to you in the least. And the only way to do that is to stop whatever is happening here.”
He let go of her hands and tried to back away, only for Brooke to step towards him and grab his hands back, pressing them to her lips. He didn’t resist, but Anthony also didn’t step closer. Instead, he took a deep breath and shook his head.
“Brooke…” he said. She placed a finger to his lips, pausing the thought, before replacing it with her own lips, her hands abandoning his in favor of grabbing his jaw and pulling him down. Instinctively, Anthony’s arms bound around her waist, pulling her firmly against his body. Brooke could feel his smile against her lips and she responded with a grin of her own, pushing their bodies toward his conference table and shoving him into a sitting position.
“I’m a big girl, Anthony,” she husked against his lips when they pulled away for a breath. “I can make my own decisions.” Before he could answer, she placed another kiss against his lips and felt him respond by pushing her skirt up her thighs and helping her up to straddle his lap. Brooke’s hands tugged at his tie, loosening it until she could pull the garment over his head and toss it behind her.
They wasted little to no time in undressing each other enough to lay themselves down on the conference table—Brooke on top of Anthony, with her hair acting as a curtain around their heads. Their fingers interlaced next to their bodies, tightening around one another’s as Brooke lowered herself down on Anthony’s shaft, feeling him stretch her and moaning out at the sensation that she had so missed these last few days.
“You see,” she sighed. “We fit together so well. It would be a crime to deny ourselves this kind of pleasure. Don’t you agree?” Before he could respond, she had begun to move and Anthony was rendered speechless. He reached out for her hips, holding her firm against him as she rocked her hips over him, the conference table shaking with their bodies, their moans lost to each other’s mouths as they reached the pinnacle of pleasure as one.
By the time Brooke slumped over him, there was no denying this thing between them was bigger than the both of them.
Chapter Eleven
Before the month was over, Brooke had become one of Alenna’s best rookie dealers. Her hands were as swift as her wit and she’d become much more confident in the way that she dealt with unruly patrons. It came to be that they respected her standing up for herself and many of her co-workers—Tessa, included—were impressed by how she defended herself and stood up to some of the more troublesome customers. Rarely did Brooke have to call for one of the security guards or managers to come deal with something for her.
Besides that, she was having a lot more fun with her patrons, and she found that they were actually pretty nice people. She loved hearing their stories and laughing with them as she shuffled and dealt out their hands. She heard about their families and relationships and businesses and comforted those that lost big hands by informing them that everybody’s luck had to change at some point and to just stick in there. She didn’t make them feel ridiculous for going until they had nothing left and they appreciated her for that.
During her breaks, she and Tessa would hang out in the break room
, talking about everything and nothing. Tessa informed Brooke that she had just started seeing a guy, who was too sweet to be real. She asked Brooke for advice and they jokingly planned a double wedding, complete with flower arrangements and matching wedding gowns.
Sometimes, after work, Brooke would invite Tessa over to Anthony’s apartment (but only on nights when he would be staying much later than she) and they would watch movies in his private theater, drinking wine and eating whatever they could get their hands on, until they fell asleep in front of the large screen. By the time they woke up, Anthony would be there and Tessa would be shepherded to her own room to sleep off her buzz while her friends got a little more acquainted with one another.
Brooke enjoyed her time with Anthony more than anything. They had only become closer since that time in his office (the last time in his office, he’d said, since he had to keep up some semblance of professionalism) and he often treated her to dinner out on the town. Half of his closet had been taken over by the clothes he purchased for her at Ella’s (mostly lingerie and cocktail dresses that had him practically drooling and his fingers itching to tear away at her) and he always kept her favorite food on hand for lazy afternoons when they would drift off on the couch, curled up in one another’s arms.
Most nights, after work, Anthony waited outside for Brooke and followed her back into Manhattan, where she dropped the car off and said goodbye to her father. Mr. Abernathy was often suspicious of where she’d be going in the middle of the night—either with ‘Tessa’ or this man that she was dating that he hadn’t even met yet. He’d always been overprotective, though, so Brooke knew exactly how to assuage his worries.
“We’re not that serious yet, Pop,” she’d lie. “We just have meals after work and then he drives me to Tessa’s. No big deal.”
“It is a big deal,” her father replied. “You’re spending every night with this man. What if he tries something you’re uncomfortable with and I’m not there to protect you?”
At this, Brooke huffed. “I can take care of myself, Pop. I’m not a child anymore.”
“You might think you’re all grown up,” her father would say, “but you’re still my little girl and I know how naïve you can be.”
Brooke didn’t even dignify that with a response.
One night, she was practically in tears when she made it to Anthony’s car and he asked her what’s wrong. She’d just shook her head and refused to talk about it until they made it to the hotel restaurant, where she finally broke down and told him about the horrible fight that she and her father had just had.
“He told me that I had no idea what I was doing,” she said, wiping tears from her cheeks. “He said that you were going to hurt me and that I should think better of trying to lie to him about where I was going all the time.”
“Well, did you lie to him?” Anthony asked gently.
“Yes, but only because I know him. If I tell my father your name, he’ll have a private eye on your tail in seconds and then he’ll find out your connection to Carmine and I just…” She shook her head. “What if he reveals who you are to the papers? That’ll be horrible for Alenna and then you’ll have all those cops sniffing around and driving your clients around. And it would be all my fault.”
“Brooke,” Anthony sighed, reaching for her hand. “It’s not your fault that your father is over-protective. He just wants to look out for you. I know that, if I had a daughter your age, I’d want to make sure that she—”
“Brookie?”
Brooke’s spine stiffened and she jumped up from her seat, turning just in time to see her father wheeling towards her, a frown on his lips. Her eyes widened at the sight of him and Anthony’s own eyes widened as he glanced down at her father.
“Daddy, what are you doing here?”
“I was in the neighborhood,” her father lied, “and I caught a glimpse of you two walking in here.” He offered his hand to Anthony. “Bruce Abernathy,” he introduced himself. “Nice to meet you, young man.”
“Anthony,” he replied, giving Bruce a stuff handshake. “Likewise, sir.”
“Oh, stop it with the ‘sir’ bullshit and just call me Bruce. Mind if I join you?”
“Well, I don’t,” Anthony said, his voice wavering as he glanced at Brooke, who bit her lip.
She took a deep breath and forced a smile down at her father. “Of course not, Pop,” she said. “Would you like some tea?”
“Coffee, actually. Thanks, sweetheart.”
Brooke swallowed thickly and nodded, flagging down their waitress. They ordered and everything went silent for a long moment.
“I’ve gotta say,” Bruce said, clearing his throat, “when Brookie told me that she was seeing some guy from work, I was not picturing a man that could treat her to such lavish brunches. You must be pretty high up on the food chain, huh?”
“Somewhat,” Anthony evaded. His eyes studied Bruce’s face like he knew the other man, but his own revealed very little. He didn’t know how comfortable Bruce would be if he knew that his daughter was dating the owner of the casino. Even less comfortable if he knew anything of Anthony’s past.
“Tell me then, Anthony, what do you do for a living?” Bruce asked, thanking the waitress as she set his cup of coffee and scrambled eggs down in front of him. He took a sip, his eyes trained on Anthony’s face. The younger man cleared his throat and took a sip of his own water before responding.
“I’m in upper-management,” he told Bruce. It wasn’t too far off from the truth and Brooke seemed to approve. “I make most of the bigger decisions for the casino.”
“So you’re successful and wealthy and incredibly handsome, if you don’t mind me saying.”
“Not at all,” Anthony retorted, preening a bit. “There’s nothing wrong with being good-looking.”
“Agreed. You must think my Brooke is very good-looking, huh? I mean, considering you’ve chosen her out of all the other women you could have.”
“Pop!” Brooke huffed, slapping his hand. “Thanks a lot.”
“That’s not a reflection on you, dearest,” Bruce assured her. “Any man would be lucky to have you as their partner, but not every man can really recognize it, you know? Especially when blinded by wealth and success the way Mr. Anthony here is. It stands to question why, out of all the available women all around Manhattan and New Jersey, you deemed to choose Brooke. Especially when you barely knew her.”
“On the contrary, Mr. Abernathy,” Anthony retorted, his voice just about at breaking point, “I’m the one who hired Brooke. So I already knew who she was and I liked what I saw. She’s intelligent and a hard worker and—”
“How would you know that she’s a hard worker?” Bruce interrupted. “The casino is my daughter’s first job.”
“Perhaps, but as a student, her grade point average was nearly a 4.0. That’s not very easy to pull off as a history major at NYU, which to me says that she studies a lot and works hard at the tasks she’s been given.”
“Fair enough,” Bruce acquiesced. “But you could still have pretty much any woman you want. Hell, you could be married with several children by now…so why did you wait so long to take your pick?”
“I suppose I never found the right woman.” There was a challenge in Anthony’s voice as he leaned forward, getting in Bruce’s space. Mr. Abernathy didn’t cower away. Instead, his eyes narrowed on Anthony’s face and he turned to his daughter.
“It was nice seeing you, darling,” he said, pulling a twenty from his wallet and placing it down on the table, to pay for his half-eaten eggs and mostly full coffee. “I’ll see you later, at home. Won’t I?” There was a warning in his voice and Brooke nodded.
“Of course, Pop,” she said. “See you later.”
Bruce nodded and began to wheel away from the table, when he was stopped by the waitress’s voice addressing Anthony. “Will that be all, Mr. Dunham?” she asked.
Something inside Bruce’s head clicked and buzzed around his skull as he wheeled out of the re
staurant. Anthony Dunham, he thought. Why does that name sound so familiar?
There was only one way to find out.
*****
When they returned to Anthony’s apartment later that afternoon, Brooke’s hand was clenched tightly in his. The ordeal with her father that morning had her questioning the validity of their relationship. Her father had made a lot of good points; Anthony could have any woman he wanted, so why choose her? Brooke wasn’t wealthy or the most beautiful woman in most respects. She’d had a difficult time finding dates for dances in high school, let alone men that actually wanted to shower her with gifts and praise the way Anthony did.
How could there be nothing suspicious about that?
But then Anthony had assuaged her fears with whispered nothings in her ear, assuring Brooke that she was the one he wanted and nobody else. That he found her gorgeous and that her intelligence was just as sexy as anything else about her. He had said almost everything she’d needed to hear, save for the three simple words she longed for since their first night together.
But it was enough for now.
She had a man who cared for her and she cared for him and he wanted this thing between them to continue as much as she did, it seemed. She wasn’t about to argue with that.
But when they arrived on his floor, there were three men waiting for them in front of Anthony’s door. All three men stood in a line, with the middle man a little more prominent than the other two. Unlike his companions, he wore an expensive coat and rings on his fingers that looked to be made of rare materials. His glasses were just as luxurious, with gold frames and tinted lenses. When he grinned, Brooke could see a gold tooth.
“Antonio,” he greeted, in a voice rough from smoking cigarettes—or cigars—for years. “It’s so nice to see you again.”
Immediately, Anthony tensed and pushed Brooke behind him.
