Trevor Reese: His Secret Love

by Mallory Monroe

  Trevor had strong feelings, too, as he shook her hand. And he didn’t understand why either. She was too young and he would guess far too inexperienced for him to consider her his type. But there was something there. Something electric. And it went beyond mere attractiveness, although he found her most attractive. With her big, almond-shaped hazel eyes that gave off a look of fear and confidence all at once, and her unblemished soft brown skin; and the way her naturally long lashes complimented those eyes and the way her narrow face highlighted her high-cheek bones and small, sweet lips, she was a stunning young lady. And sexy as hell in such an understated way that it had him turned up more than a naked woman in heels could.

  But that didn’t explain his reaction to her. In his business, he dealt with sexy ladies all day long. But with this young lady, it felt familiar. As if he knew her already. He didn’t know shit about her beyond some preliminary report one of his headhunters had compiled on her, and he hadn’t even bothered to run a background on her yet. But he sensed a connection to her so real that it felt as if she held a string that pulled him to her. That was unexpected. It was a feeling so new to Trevor that it alarmed him. “Good to meet you, Miss Sinatra,” he said as they shook hands.

  “Sinatra?” Joe came from behind the bar with two glasses of whiskey in his hand. “Did you say Sinatra?”

  “And that piece of work over there,” Peg said to Carly, “is my husband.”

  “Her one and only,” Joe said as he handed Trevor a drink. “And who, my dear, are you calling a piece of work?”

  And as the Redgraves went back and forth with their nice-nasty putdowns of each other, Trevor kept taking peeps at Carly. She didn’t seem uncomfortable in the least with the back and forth, as if wherever she came from, it wasn’t all rainbows and puppies for her. She was accustomed to drama. But she kept her dignity about her. That was what impressed him. She remained standing there, straight back and elegant, and didn’t try to cut them off, and didn’t try to “regain” control of the room. She waited patiently for the dust to clear.

  And when it did, Joe immediately turned his knives toward her. “Did Trevor say your name was Sinatra?” he asked again.

  “Carly Sinatra, yes,” Carly said. “And it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Redgrave.”

  “Not really,” Joe said, and Trevor looked at him with a sharp look. Be careful with that one, Joe, his eyes seemed to say.

  “But I understand you have to say that,” Joe said to Carly. “And what I’m about to ask is far-fetched and bordering on the absurd, I already know that. But I simply must ask it. Are you related to the late great Frank Sinatra in any way, shape, or form?”

  Carly would be rich if she was paid every time she was asked that question. “No, I’m not,” she said.

  But Trevor, whom she noticed was staring at her, had a different name in mind. “What about Mick Sinatra?” he asked.

  Carly looked at Trevor with a look that betrayed her uneasiness. How in the world would he know about her Uncle Mick? Then she caught herself. Her uncle, in addition to that other life he led, was one of the most respected businessmen in America. Surely Mr. Reese knew him in that capacity. “He’s my uncle,” she said with a smile. “He and my adopted father are brothers.”

  Joe was curious. “And who is this Mick Sinatra? I’ve never heard of him.”

  “He’s Mafia,” Trevor said, still staring at Carly.

  Carly’s heart dropped. Would Reese hold it against her? “He is not Mafia,” she corrected him. “He runs Sinatra Industries in Pennsylvania, a fortune 500, very legitimate business. He’s a well-regarded businessman.”

  “So defensive,” Peg said to Carly. “I’ll have you know, young lady, you’re talking to Trevor Reese, a consultant to the stars. He has a client list that would put Phil Merrick’s entire organization to shame. From Madonna to Beyoncé to Lady Gaga, Trevor works with only the elite of the elites. Don’t you, darling?”

  “Pure gossip,” Trevor responded with a wave of the hand. “My client list is not public to anyone. Including you, darling,” he added, to Peg.

  Peg smiled. “I was just defending your butt,” she said. “Let the child disrespect you then.”

  “Why shouldn’t she?” Joe asked. “I certainly have no respect for him.”

  Joe and Trevor exchanged a look.

  Carly could feel the tension, so she got on with it. “May I speak with you privately, Senator?” she asked.

  “Privately?” Joe asked. “Why? We have no secrets here!”

  Peg gave her husband an exasperated look, and then she looked at Carly. “You may speak freely,” she said. “He’s well aware of my situation.”

  Joe smiled. “Your situation. Very cute.”

  Carly decided to go full steam ahead. “I understand there will be a report coming out detailing an accusation of adultery,” she said, “and we need to take care of that issue?”

  Peg exhaled. “Yes. Some tabloid newspaper plan to publish this outlandish claim that I had an affair.”

  “Tabloid?” Joe asked. “The Times? I don’t think so!”

  “When’s the story slated to run?” Carly asked Peg.

  “Don’t you want to know if the story is true or not?” Peg asked her.

  Trevor stared at Carly, as if her answer would tell him all he needed to know about her professional readiness.

  “No,” Carly responded. “That’s none of my business.”

  She was ready, Trevor thought.

  Carly continued. “What I need is the name of the man involved in this affair so that you, he, and your husband can hold a press conference immediately, ahead of the story’s release. Each one of you, especially the man, will need to deny the allegations. Forcefully. But we will need the man.”

  “That’s why Trevor came,” Peg said. “To his credit.”

  Carly was confused. “Excuse me?”

  “He’s the man,” Joe said with a bitter grin and drank his whiskey. “You said you need the man present, then there you have him. Please meet my wife’s lover: the debonair marriage-wrecking asshole, Trevor Reese.”

  Carly was taken aback by this allegation. Especially given the feelings that came up just from shaking his hand. She even had to look at Trevor and the senator to confirm such a remarkable comment. Peg’s look alone confirmed it. Carly gave Trevor an extra look. Disappointment flooded her big hazel eyes.

  “Well, Mr. Reese,” Carly said, fighting hard to keep her emotions out of it, “if you are willing to shoot down this story, then my job should be very easy.”

  “Easy?” Joe asked. “What about the story itself? What about that newspaper article that’s expected to hit the newsstands and the internet within the next couple days? Don’t you think we need to find out who planted that story so that we can discredit it and the person right along with it?”

  “I know who planted it,” Carly said.

  Everybody looked at her.

  “You know?” Joe asked. “Then who?”

  “You,” Carly responded and looked Joe dead in his small, conniving eyes.

  Trevor stared at her, inwardly smiling. He’d already reached that conclusion himself. That’s my girl, he thought, and then was alarmed that he thought it.

  Joe and Peg, however, were beyond alarmed. “Me?” he asked, with astonishment in his voice.

  “What are you talking about?” Peg asked, astonished too.

  But Carly, Trevor was pleased to see, did not back down. “Your husband planted the story,” she said.

  “And how do you figure that?” Peg asked with more accusation than request in her voice.

  “Your husband doesn’t want you in the President’s cabinet.”

  “That is utterly ridiculous,” Peg said.

  “Utterly ridiculous,” Joe agreed.

  But Carly could tell Peg was willing to hear more. “Why in the world would you say such a thing?” Peg asked.

  “Once I received this assignment, I had to ask myself who would lose the most if yo
u became a cabinet secretary. I decided the biggest loser would be your husband.”

  “Me?” Joe asked. “Are you out of your negrito mind? I’m married to her! Are you as dumb as you look?”

  Carly wanted to fire back at Joe, and Trevor could tell she wanted to. But he needed her to stay focused. She was on the right track. He just wasn’t certain that she could explain why she was on that track. “Why would he be the biggest loser?” Trevor asked her.

  It worked. Carly turned her attention away from Joe, and looked at Trevor. “Because Senator Redgrave would have to place her assets in a blind trust.”

  That’s my girl, Trevor inwardly said again.

  But Peg frowned. “Of course I would have to utilize a blind trust. We can’t have even the appearance of a conflict of interest in the president’s administration. So what?”

  Carly could almost touch the anger this woman felt toward her. But the truth seemed so obvious too. “A quick check, before I came over, shows that your husband lives a very lavish lifestyle, with many lovers of his own.”

  “That’s a lie!” was Joe’s first reaction. But Carly could tell it was just an automatic response.

  She continued. “Your husband’s ability to raid your assets, as he has been doing nonstop since he married you two years ago, will be halted considerably. He has the most to lose if you get confirmed for that cabinet post.”

  “That is a bunch of hogwash!” Joe said angrily. “Get out,” he ordered. “Get your lying black ass out of my house now!” And, as if to prove just what he thought of her accusations, he backslapped Carly violently across the face.

  Trevor, stunned that he would do such a savage thing, hurried over to Joe before Carly could even react to the blow. And Trevor didn’t hesitate. To Carly’s shock, Trevor hit Joe with such a hard roundhouse right that it took Joe to his knees, and caused Trevor’s whiskey to fly out of its glass. And then Joe tittered over, and fell out.

  “Joe!” Peg cried, and hurried to his aid.

  But as Peg turned her attention to Joe, Trevor immediately turned his attention to Carly. “Are you okay?” he asked her anxiously.

  Carly nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”

  Peg looked up at Trevor. “Get out!” she cried.

  “She was right,” Trevor said, “and he knows it. When will you open your eyes to what he’s all about? All he wants is your money, Peg. He doesn’t give a damn about you!”

  “I don’t care! He’s my husband.”

  Trevor stared at his lover. Carly saw, for the first time, that he actually had feelings for Peg Redgrave.

  But Peg was going to stand by her man. She looked at Trevor. “Get out!” she yelled. “And take that tramp with you.”

  Carly suddenly saw a flash of hatred in Trevor’s eyes. “You committed adultery,” he said, “but she’s the tramp? Fuck you! She’s the only decent human being in this house of horrors at all!”

  Peg got up and attempted to slap Trevor. But Trevor caught her wrist. “I’m not above it,” he warned. “And you know it.”

  Carly saw fear all over Peg’s face. And she backed down. Trevor, still staring at her, still with that warning look in his eyes, finally released her wrist. It looked to Carly as if, at that very moment, he decided he was done with Peg Redgrave. He was ready to go.

  “Let’s go, Miss Sinatra,” he said to Carly. But he didn’t wait for a response. As if he was her boss already, he expected her to follow him out of the door.

  Carly knew forceful men like this. She had a father, and uncles, who fit that bill. Even her big brothers Brent and Tony fit that bill. But Trevor was different. Whereas her family members were men of honor in her eyes, Trevor, she was beginning to realize, had thug tendencies.

  But she felt drawn to that thug in a way that was completely inexplicable to her. And she followed him. She wanted to set Joe Redgrave straight. She wanted to set the senator straight. But, she realized in a way that scared her, she wanted to be with Trevor Reese more.

  She followed him to the front door of the Redgraves’ home, where their butler was standing and opened the door for them. Trevor handed the butler his drink, allowed Carly to walk in front of him out the door, and then walked out behind her. The butler closed the door behind them.

  Once outside, Trevor ran his hands through his hair, messing up a perfectly fine haircut without caring. “A train wreck,” he said, with exasperation in his voice. “I saw it coming a mile away.”

  But Carly still remembered her point of disappointment in him, a man she felt should have been above having an affair with a married woman. “Why would you ride a train,” she asked, “that you know is going to wreck?”

  Trevor smiled what Carly could only describe as a sad smile. “Because I’m a train wreck too.” He looked Carly in her eyes. “Ever thought of that?”

  Carly didn’t, and he could tell she didn’t. She was disappointed in him, and a little disgusted with him.

  Carly extended her hand. “Thank you, Mr. Reese,” she said, “for standing up for me in there. I do appreciate it.”

  Trevor shook her hand. That feeling of familiarity returned. And for some weird reason he felt a deep sadness, as if he didn’t want her to leave. What the fuck? Where was all of this touchy feely bullshit coming from?

  He squeezed her hand as he shook it, and Carly felt his squeeze. But if he thought he was going to get her in his bed now that Peg Redgrave was no longer going to occupy it, he had another thought coming. “Have a nice day,” she said, and moved to release her hand.

  But Trevor would not release it. Because that string was still pulling on him. And he blurted out: “I don’t need a public relations consultant.”

  Carly had already concluded that she was probably not what a man like him was looking for, and she therefore was not surprised. But what did surprise her was the way she took his comment. As if he was saying he didn’t need a PR consultant, but he needed something else from her. And it was that something else that intrigued and repulsed her.

  But she wasn’t going to go there. “It’s your firm and you have a right to hire the best people for it. Have a nice day.”

  But Trevor still held her hand. He still, he felt, held her hostage. “I don’t need another consultant in my PR department,” he said. “I need a director of my PR department.”

  Carly stared at him. Her heart began to soar.

  “Is that you, Carly?” he asked.

  Carly stared at him. It would be more than her wildest dream could have hoped for. She remembered what her biological father used to always tell her. Something she knew he heard from somebody else because he was too self-obsessed to think it up himself. If you find a willing horse, he used to always tell her, ride it. He was an awful person who meant it as an example of using people to her advantage, but also as an example of taking advantage of an opportunity. And if Mr. Reese was serious, it would be the opportunity of a lifetime. Carly didn’t want that opportunity to pass her by.

  But after what transpired inside, where he admitted he did indeed have an affair with the very married Senator Redgrave, she was hesitant. She knew she had to get something straight off the bat, or it could come back to bite her later. “I don’t sleep with my co-workers,” she said.

  Trevor didn’t hesitate. “I wouldn’t be your coworker,” he fired back. “I would be your boss.” Then that sad, moody, depressed look Carly was beginning to believe consumed him, came back. And he exhaled. “Neither do I,” he said.

  Then he looked into her eyes. Her beautiful, soft, expressive eyes. But Carly saw shame in his. “The job is yours if you want it,” he said to her almost matter-of-factly. “Let my office know by Close of Business today.” Then, to her surprise, he let her hand go and began leaving.

  And it was Carly, this time, who felt that string’s pull. “I accept!” she yelled after him.

  He threw up his hand in acknowledgement, but that was all she was going to get. He got into his sports car, and sped off.

  Carly fou
nd herself smiling. She found herself smiling for the first time in a long time. “Wow!” she said, as he sped away.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Present Day

  He took the stairs two at a time and made his way to the eighth floor. He walked down the hall, looking around as he did, and then unlocked the dilapidated door of the apartment. Once inside, he closed and locked the door and leaned against it. He was already tired. But he was only beginning.

  The chilly night air from the slightly raised window blew the thin curtains around and filled the sparsely furnished, dark room with an uncomfortableness he preferred. It would be inhuman, he thought, to be comfortable with something like this. But it was business. He always had to remind himself: this was business.

  He unzipped his leather jacket, removed his skull cap and stuffed it in his jacket pocket, and walked over to the window near the back of the room. A long white box sat on the floor beneath the window, a box placed there for him, but his immediate thoughts were on the scene. And the difficulties he was sure to face.

  He looked out of the window to assess his view. His point of reference wasn’t the group of teens standing around the makeshift fire smoking weed and talking trash. Nor the dealers on the other end of the block selling drugs to anybody in need of that sort of high. Or the hookers selling themselves to those who needed a different high. But Trevor Reese looked beyond the racket. He looked through the gap between two tall buildings to the busy street one street over. His point of reference was the front entrance to Bailey’s, a posh gentlemen’s club. Cars were driving up, dropping off various VIPs, and driving away. A lot of walk-up traffic too.

  Trevor exhaled. It was too busy. It wasn’t the ideal location. But of all the places Chekov visited as part of his weekly routine, this was the best spot. It wasn’t without risks: the expansive activity proved that. But Trevor was a pro. He’d been at this a long time. He could handle it.

  He sat on the floor, just beneath the window, with his back against the wall. He removed his gloves and stuffed them into his other jacket pocket, and placed the elongated box on his lap. It could have been flowers, or a musical instrument, and Trevor smiled at the thought that he would open the box and find one of the two. That he would discover how his advance man left him the wrong equipment.