by Brynne Asher
I want to close out all the shit—mine and hers—and, for just once, be normal.
I can’t even remember the last time I had normal. Maybe I don’t know what normal is.
My phone vibrates again but this time it’s a call. When I look, I grit my teeth. The last thing I have time for right now is Sarah.
“You’re a popular guy.” Jen’s expression is a careful one, leaning on the side of curious.
After wanting to pummel her trainer, I shouldn’t judge her curiosity, but I do. “It’s nothing, just work stuff. I have to go, but I’m coming over tomorrow night.”
Her eyes dance with intrigue. “I didn’t invite you over tomorrow night.”
“Again, with the shitty southern manners. You’re going to make me think you don’t like me.”
She shifts her weight. “I’ve been trying to figure out if I like or hate you for a week straight. You give me whiplash.”
I slide my phone back in my pocket, regretting the fact I really do have to leave and soon. I only have a couple minutes so I use my time wisely and press her into the door. Leaning down, I put my lips to her ear. “You’ve only ever liked me. Admit it.”
She puts her hands to my sides and tries to give me a little push, but I don’t let her. I put my lips to her neck.
“Please, Eli. Don’t kiss me.”
I run my tongue along the lobe of her ear. “Why?”
Her body tenses and I can’t lie—it feels good. I can’t wait to make her tense in other ways. “Because you can’t kiss me for the first time when I smell like a rotten goat right after kickboxing. I won’t allow it.”
My phone vibrates again. I really do need to go.
I stand up straight. “Answer your phone this weekend.”
I move away and press the button to the elevator.
“And, Jen?” I call for her as the doors slide open. She hasn’t moved away from her spot and tips her head, hiking a brow. “I’m coming back tomorrow night and I don’t care what you smell like or what’s going on with your case.” I hold the elevator with one hand while motioning between her and me with the other. “This is happening and it starts tomorrow.”
I don’t look back. I get in the elevator and check my phone. Bree is heading this way and she’s close.
Fuck me. Why is she coming back here?
Looks like I’m diving back into the damn trash cans as cover. It’s the only reason I should be here. I don’t even want to think about why she’d come back here after she found documents I’m pretty sure she planted, but Bree wants to play a game and push boundaries, she has no fucking clue who she’s dealing with. I’m the king of pushing boundaries and can walk the line of good and evil while always working for the good.
My new co-worker can go fuck herself.
Chapter 10
Romancing a Bad Situation
Jen
I set my cell phones down next to me on the stone patio and relax back in my lounge.
We’re having a warm spell. Not warm enough to swim in November, but definitely warm enough to lay by the pool. But no amount of balmy, autumn Texas sun can outweigh my conversation with Patrick.
“What did he say?” Ellie, ever-nosy, asks. I’m just as nosy with her, so I shouldn’t judge.
I look over at my little sister. “He’s pissed, obviously. Since this shit happened to me, I’m at least grateful my lead attorney is as fired up as much or more than I am. He said he’s going to call Lehmans for an emergency meeting tonight before my hearing in the morning. Then he gave me shit about not telling him how I found out about the bogus documents in my trash.”
“You’re really not going to tell me, either? I tell you all my secrets.” Her long, blond hair is pulled into a top-knot and, even after all these years, she’s kept her lean dancer’s figure.
The three of us kids couldn’t be more different. Cam is built like a Texas steer, I got all the curves and top out at five-seven, but Ellie is tiny and always has been. Mom put her in ballet before she could speak paragraphs and that was it. Dance was all she knew but being a Montgomery meant mediocrity was not an option. She even went on to study at Julliard, though I know that was an escape. She stayed in New York for a while but became lost during that season of her life. There are days I think she wishes she had stayed, even though she won’t admit it. After all that happened, I’m lucky she stepped foot back into the state of Texas at all. I’m pretty sure it was only to be close to me and I love her for it.
I look out over the Texas hills that comprise the ranch we grew up on. “Sorry, but no. And you act like you still tell me everything but I know you don’t. I’m not the only one holding my shit close these days.”
“Whatever.” She blows me off because she knows I’m right and picks up her vodka and grapefruit, taking a sip. “You got all the brains. If you can run a Fortune 500 company, surely you can figure me out.”
Shaking my head, I pick up my water with cucumber floating in it. “Trust me, getting into your head is harder than running Montgomery Industries. You’re not seventeen anymore, Ellie, and you’re sure not easy to read.”
I look over, she’s sitting with her legs curled beneath her and her Anthropologie sweater is hanging off her bare shoulder. She ignores me and changes the subject. “Stay another night. Mom is monopolizing Griff anyway—we can tie one on. Since I finished nursing, I haven’t gotten to let loose.”
“Wish I could but you know I have the hearing first thing in the morning. I can’t show up in court tired. Plus, I need to get home.”
This isn’t the first time I’ve thought about Eli since he left me yesterday afternoon in a hurry. It’s taken all my efforts not to let my mind wander since I got to the ranch last night. He’s texted more than once, making sure I wouldn’t be late.
We met with the wedding planner this afternoon to go over details for Saturday. Ellie and I made sure our mother didn’t switch anything up, turning it into the horse-and-pony show she’s known for, and that everything will be carried out per Paige’s wishes.
“You can stay,” she insists. “Donny will drive you in. You’ll be fine.”
My heart twists for my sister … it cuts through me to deny her anything. From the outside, it might appear that she leads a charmed and lavish life, but she’s lonely and won’t open up to anyone anymore—rarely even me.
Ellie and I have always been each other’s secret keepers, but I’m not ready to let anyone know about Eli yet. It’s not like we met under normal circumstances and now it sounds like my legal issues might not be cleared up as soon as I thought.
I reach out to grab her hand and squeeze. “I’m sorry. I have to be sharp tomorrow. But, hey, we’ll throw down next weekend at the wedding, right?”
She shifts in her lounge and stretches out her lean legs, laying back so her face soaks up the sun and doesn’t look at me when she goes on. “You know, Cam’s buddy who plays for the Cowboys will be here, right? He’s single. When was the last time you got laid?”
“Seriously?” I don’t like to be set up on a normal day and she knows that. Now, with Eli in the picture, no way.
She turns her head and squints through the afternoon sun, raising a brow, daring me to tell her.
“When was the last time you got laid?” I counter.
Her dare turns into a glare before she turns her face back to the sun.
“Don’t open that can of shit unless you’re willing to spill, Ellie Ketteman.”
She doesn’t respond but pulls in a breath before downing a gulp of her cocktail.
I change the subject, having no desire to talk about Robert, especially now that he works for me. “I’m taking Friday off to spend the day with Cam, Paige, and the kids before the rehearsal. Will you be here all week?”
Ellie shakes her head, sounding resigned. “There’s no room. Paige and Cam are taking the guest house, Jordy and Cara will be in with Mom and Dad, and some of the Carpinos are staying here, too. The ranch is big, but not big enough for the Car
pinos and me. Plus, you know I don’t love being here without you.”
“It’s been a long time. You need to get over it. You’re being strange. Are you okay?”
She waves me off. “I’m fine. Robert is traveling more since he started with MI. I’ve tried to hang out with other moms in my neighborhood and just can’t do it. I need to get a job or volunteer or something. I’m bored. I talk to Griffin all day long and, don’t get me wrong, he’s great. But it would be nice to interact with someone who doesn’t babble in bubbly drool.”
I feel my smile take over my face and don’t even work to hide it. This is what I’ve wanted her to do ever since she moved back to Texas. “Work for me. You can manage community outreach or something. It doesn’t even have to be full-time.”
She throws me a look long enough to roll her eyes. “Did you forget you’re the only one crazy enough to work for Dad? Not even Cam wanted in on that. No, I want to teach. I think I’m ready to get back into it.”
“You are?” I’m surprised. It’s been years since she’s wanted anything to do with dance. “You should open a studio.”
She shrugs. “Do you know how many studios there are in north Dallas? Too many.”
I flip my legs off my lounge to sit facing her. “Yeah, but how many are owned by dancers trained at Julliard or who have performed on Broadway? My guess? Not many. You’ll already have a leg up. And don’t open in the suburbs—open downtown.”
One of my phones vibrates and since it isn’t my personal one, I know exactly who it is.
“Says the girl who pretends to be a city-dweller but instead hides out in her edgy penthouse to avoid people. Right. I’ll take your advice just as soon as you get a life outside of work.”
I unlock the phone to find my straight-shooting FBI agent has sent me a demanding text.
Eli: Tell me you’ll be back soon.
Damn. It’s been a long time since I’ve been pursued. Eli is different than any man I’ve ever met and it has nothing to do with him being a government agent who should be working on the case the FBI is trying to build against me. He’s not trying to play it cool or impress me with shit I don’t care about.
“I’m busy, Ellie, not to mention I don’t want my life plastered all over the social pages of the Dallas Morning News,” I mutter as I shoot a text back.
Me: For someone who had a busy weekend planned, you sure do text a lot.
Eli: Wondering if I need to feed you.
Fuck. That makes me hungry and not for food.
“Who’s that, why do you have two phones, and what’s up with your face?”
I look up to my sister who now has her undivided, nosy attention on me.
“There’s nothing wrong with my face and it’s Callie,” I lie. “She’s just going over our schedule for tomorrow.”
“You’re full of shit.” She turns to me and raises her voice. “Who is that?”
Me: I’m leaving soon and it’s almost an hour drive if I don’t hit traffic.
I pick up both phones, my water, and move to escape any more questions. Reaching down, I grab Ellie’s top knot and give it a playful yank, reminiscent of the years we spent picking on each other. What I don’t do is answer her. “Volunteer or open a studio. Show Griffin his mama can kick some ass and love on him at the same time. But you need to do something besides rattling around that McMansion of yours. It’s depressing.”
She pulls her head away and shoots me a dirty look as she works to fix her hair. “Fuck you. Like your life is enriched by working sixty hours a week. Your idea of fun is online shopping.”
“Online shopping is fun and, deflect all you want, little sis, but it’s time.” She looks back up at me as the prepaid cell vibrates in my hand. I can’t look without giving away hints of my insides turning with the excitement of a middle schooler about to get her first kiss. Instead, I lower my voice and offer a bit of advice Ellie and I could both use. “Maybe it’s time we both took life by the fucking horns. Make the most of our eight seconds.”
Ellie’s eyes rest on me for mere seconds before she waves me off, giving up the fight, and picks up her drink. “Save the uplifting rodeo bullshit metaphors for the boardroom. Let me know how your hearing goes tomorrow.” She lifts her glass to me. “Wishing you a quick and painless dismissal.”
“You and me both, sister.” I lean down and plop a kiss on my sister’s head before leaving. “You and me both.”
*****
Eli
An investigation is nothing more than a puzzle for the mind.
Sure, technology makes our jobs easier, but the shitheads on the other side are just as sophisticated and don’t have to deal with the Justice Department limiting how they use that same technology to break the law.
What an investigator cannot do is get tunnel vision. That will fuck you up the ass and leave you spinning in circles. Or, apparently, it can also suck you into a kaleidoscope, hypnotizing you into justifying the means where there were no means to be vindicated in the first place.
That is exactly what has happened to Bree Newman and, dammit all to hell, she’s sucking me into her cyclone.
Yesterday, after the trash run, I followed her home to a neighborhood where the houses were smashed together like a pack of Juicy Fruit with cars lined up just as tight. Even so, it was still ten times nicer than the hood I grew up in.
Everyone seemed to be minding their own business so I had no trouble blending in when I crawled under Bree’s car to install a tracker. I need to know what she’s up to.
Then I went home to take a shower before interrupting Jen’s workout with fucking Jase. When I saw that Bree was on the move and where she was headed, I had to leave Jen and climb back into the damn dumpster so I had reason to be there.
I was never so damned pissed to be right.
When she asked what I was doing, I explained I was afraid we weren’t thorough enough and, if she found one set of documents, there could be more. Bree tried to hide her surprise before offering to help, but I told her I’d dug to the bottom and there was no need for her to wade through shit again.
Bree showing back up at Jen’s building was too much of a coincidence. A niggling at the back of my neck had me curious so, after she left, I crawled under my car to find I was right—the bitch was tracking me.
Seems I’m not the only inquisitive one about my new coworkers. How long has she been tracking me? I just don’t know why. Unless could she have seen me dance with Jen at the club when I was positive no one was close and we were swallowed by the crowd? Maybe she found out I was at Jen’s when I shouldn’t have been.
Regardless, she’s fucking with the wrong agent.
Back I went to my shitty apartment to shower a-fucking-gain.
And, while Bree’s tracker sits in my kitchen, I know every move she makes. For most of Sunday, she’s been at the office, conjuring up who-knows-what and, when she was on the move again, so was I. Jen isn’t supposed to be back for over an hour and, even though it might be late, I’m bringing her dinner.
I don’t plan on leaving early.
Or at all, depending on how the night goes.
But first, I didn’t expect to find myself here, at White Rock Lake, northeast of downtown. The area is huge and heavily wooded with no one in sight. I got here just in time to see Bree get out of her car and I almost throw up a little as she sways her ass into the passenger seat of another.
In the dusky evening sunset, she disappears and goes to town on the driver before his head falls back against his head rest. I pick up my telescope-lensed camera to get a closer look.
Well, fuck me.
It’s our boss. Larry Flemming.
I start snapping away before I switch it over to video. My memory is sharp. When he ripped me off Jen’s case like a dirty Band-Aid, I saw a family portrait of him and who I assumed were his wife and three kids sitting front and center on his desk like a trophy. There was even a fucking dog in the picture. The portrayal of a happy family.
So, Bree Newman, home-wrecker, is having an affair with our married boss, the cheating, motherfucking asshole.
I watch him squeeze his eyes shut as his face tenses and record the whole thing as my stomach churns. It’s fair to say I’ve seen some sick shit in my day but having to watch my co-worker give my boss a blowjob pretty much kills my appetite.
I guess Jensen Montgomery is fighting more than just someone trying to frame her from inside her own company.
And I need to figure out what to do about it.
*****
Jen
I shouldn’t be surprised to hear raps at my door before security calls up to announce I have a guest.
How does he do that every time?
I’ve been home for thirty minutes. Long enough to get a load of laundry started and answer a few emails.
I go to open the door, knowing it’ll be him and wondering what the night will bring.
No—anxious for what the night will bring.
Ellie was right. It’s been a really long time since I’ve thought about sleeping with anyone and even longer since I’ve carried through on the act itself.
My mind was only on one thing all the way home from the ranch when it should’ve been on my hearing tomorrow, or on the acquisition of Birmingham Refining that’s still happening despite my personal legal issues, or everything else I need to deal with. Hell, I should’ve at least been thinking about Cam’s wedding that’s less than a week away.
But all I thought about was Eli and how it felt when he left me yesterday.
Maybe I should be worried—tread lightly when it comes to him. He is, after all, a special agent for the FBI whose team is trying to make a case against me for insider trading.
But he’s proven more than once that I can trust him. Even more, that I should trust him.
When I swing the door open, a smoky aroma of brisket, and who knows what else, fills the air. Once again, he’s standing there holding what is probably too much food and another six pack of beer.
I look up and find him tense and a little frowny. “Just in case this becomes a regular thing, you can skip the beer. I always have beer.”
