by Naomi Chase
Cynthia gave her a haughty look. “You make that sound like something to be ridiculed. I’m very blessed to have two wonderful parents who love each other so much. I hope to have what they have someday.”
Tamia smiled sweetly. “I hope you do, too.”
Cynthia’s eyes narrowed.
At that moment, Tamia had an overwhelming urge to tell Cynthia her father’s dirty little secret. The bitch would be devastated, and she’d undoubtedly confront daddy dearest to demand the truth. Once the scandal broke, Bernard Chambers would throw Bishop Yarbrough under the bus faster than President Obama had ditched Reverend Wright. And there was no way he or his wife would allow Brandon to marry Cynthia.
Which was exactly what Tamia wanted.
So what’re you waiting for? an inner voice demanded. You’ve been handed the perfect opportunity to eliminate your biggest rival. If the shoe were on the other foot, you know Cynthia wouldn’t hesitate to use a damaging secret against you!
But Tamia had promised not to betray Honey’s trust. So no matter how tempted she was to revert to her old scheming ways, she had to honor her word. Right? Right?
Suddenly there was a firm knock at the door.
Before Cynthia could call out, the door opened to reveal Brandon standing there.
He looked from one woman to the other, then frowned.
“Iris told me I’d probably find you in here,” he said to Tamia. “What the hell’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Tamia said smoothly. “Cynthia was just explaining to me how things work around here.”
Brandon stared at Cynthia until her face reddened.
“Aren’t you due in court this morning?” he asked softly.
“Yes.” Nervously she began gathering papers on her desk. “I was just about to leave.”
He regarded her another moment, then shifted his gaze to Tamia. “Come here.”
She obeyed without hesitation.
When she reached him, he took her attaché case from her hand, then turned to Cynthia. “Whatever this was”—he pointed between her and Tamia—“don’t let it happen again. You feel me?”
Cynthia’s mouth tightened at the edges, but she nodded.
Brandon looked expectantly at Tamia.
She nodded. “I feel you.”
“Good.” Shooting one last warning glance at Cynthia, Brandon cupped Tamia’s elbow and steered her out of the office.
As they started down the long corridor, Tamia felt compelled to defend herself. “Look, I’m not here to start any trouble—”
Brandon cut her off.“I forgot that Noemi had a doctor’s appointment this morning. In case she doesn’t return to the office today, she left a cheat sheet for you to review so you’ll be ready to start shadowing her tomorrow.”
Tamia nodded briskly. “I’ve been studying all weekend. I was pleasantly surprised to realize how much I remembered from my summer internships, not to mention all the legal research I did while I was awaiting trial.”
“Glad to hear it. Noemi might be put on bed rest, so there’s a strong chance you’ll be thrown into the fire sooner than we expected.”
As Brandon guided Tamia through a labyrinth of mahogany cubicles that housed the department’s administrative staff, she pretended not to notice the speculative stares and whispers that followed them. By the time they reached Noemi’s cubicle, however, the drone of hushed voices seemed loud enough to rival the noise generated by a colony of bees.
Brandon obviously noticed as well. After setting Tamia’s attaché case next to the spare computer that had been set up for her, he grabbed her hand and led her to the center of the nest of cubicles.
“Listen up, people,” he announced.
Heat suffused Tamia’s face as all eyes swung toward them. As an air of hushed expectancy swept over the area, several attorneys appeared in the doorways of offices along the corridor.
Satisfied that he had everyone’s attention, Brandon took Tamia by the shoulders and positioned her in front of him. “This is Tamia. As you all know, she used to be my girlfriend, as well as one of the firm’s clients. Now she’s an employee. If anyone has a problem with that”—he deliberately glanced around the room—“come see me. Otherwise, please let her work in peace. Are we clear?”
There were nods and murmurs of agreement sprinkled with a few deferential “Yes, sir”s.
As Tamia and Brandon walked back to his assistant’s cubicle, Tamia muttered under her breath, “I really wish you hadn’t done that. Now everyone’s gonna hate me.”
Brandon chuckled softly. “No, they won’t. But if they do, you can take comfort in that old saying.”
“What old saying?”
“ ‘You’re nobody until somebody hates you.’ ”
Chapter 29
Tamia
Tamia spent the rest of the day immersed in legal research for one of Brandon’s new cases. Following the instructions provided by his assistant—who’d gone home after her doctor’s appointment—Tamia pored through countless online articles, annotated statutes, and legal encyclopedias to identify all relevant case law that would help Brandon prepare his defense strategy. After retrieving as many supporting documents as she could, she organized and indexed the materials for the database, then took a stab at drafting a report.
She was so absorbed in her work that she lost track of time. One hour melted into another until she glanced out the window and saw that nightfall had arrived.
“You do realize that you’re only supposed to be part-time,” a deep voice murmured in her ear.
Tamia jumped, head snapping to the right.
Brandon was leaning over her shoulder, an amused expression on his face.
Tamia threw a hand over her racing heart. “You scared the hell out of me!”
He chuckled softly. “Sorry. I thought you would have heard me coming. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s a ghost town around here.”
“No, I hadn’t noticed.”
“Obviously.”
Tamia smiled into his eyes, enjoying his nearness. His lips were a breath away from hers, tempting her with their sensual fullness.
“Do you know how late it is?”
She shook her head, unwilling to break eye contact with him to check the time. “How late is it?”
“After seven.”
She smiled playfully. “Wasn’t that the name of an old nineties group?”
Brandon’s eyes glimmered with amusement. “What you know about the nineties, little girl? Weren’t you still in diapers?”
“I was not!” she sputtered indignantly. “For your information, I was born in 1982. But I can understand how you’ve forgotten that detail, seeing as to how your memory’s starting to fail you.”
“Now there you go with the old man jokes.”
She grinned. “Hey, you started it, pops.”
Brandon chuckled, tucking a strand of her hair behind one ear.
Tamia stared at him.
He stared back.
Seconds passed.
Disappointment swept over her when he pulled away to lean against the desk, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his suit pants as if he wanted to keep himself from touching her again.
Tamia smiled at the thought. “Are you just now getting back to the office from your meetings?”
“Yeah. And I didn’t expect to find you still here. Didn’t we agree that your hours would be ten to four until Noemi goes on leave?”
“Yes, but I got busy and lost track of time.”
He glanced at the stack of books on her desk, then nodded toward her computer screen. “What’re you working on?”
She hesitated. “A report.”
“Really? Can I take a look?”
“Not yet. It isn’t finished.”
“That’s okay. I just want to see if you’re on the right—”
“No, don’t look!” Tamia protested, moving quickly to block his view of the computer screen. “Let me finish the report first, then I’ll give it to you
. Okay?”
Brandon chuckled. “So this is how it’s gonna be, huh?”
Tamia grinned sheepishly. “Just until I feel more confident about my work.”
“Fair enough.” Brandon straightened from the desk. “It’s late. You should start heading home.”
“Not yet. I want to add more to the report while things are still fresh in my mind. I can’t get over how much case law data are out there. Just on the Internet alone, the sheer volume of information is staggering.”
Brandon smiled, squeezing her shoulder. “Welcome to my world.”
Tamia wanted desperately to take his warm hand and hold it against her cheek, then lower it to her breast. But before she could act on the urge, her cell phone rang.
“I’ll be in my office,” Brandon told her. “Don’t leave without saying bye.”
“I won’t.” Tamia picked up her phone and checked the caller ID, frowning at the unfamiliar number. She considered letting the call go to voice mail, but her curiosity got the best of her.
“Hello?” she answered cautiously, thinking of the crank call she’d received over a week ago.
“Tamia?”
“Yes.”
“Hey, this is Mark’s friend, Gavin.”
“Oh, hey, Gavin,” Tamia said warmly.
“I hope you don’t mind that Shanell gave me your new number.”
“Not at all.” Tamia glanced up as Brandon returned to the cubicle, arms folded across his chest. Smothering an amused grin, she leaned back in her chair and leisurely crossed one leg over the other, watching as Brandon’s eyes tracked the movement. “So how’s it going, Gavin?”
“It’s going okay,” he responded. “Still getting adjusted to being back home after a year in Afghanistan.”
I know the feeling, Tamia thought grimly. Crazy as it sounded, she would have preferred dodging gunfire in a war zone to spending even one day behind bars.
“I’m sure your family is glad to have you back safe and sound,” she told Gavin.
“Oh, absolutely. They haven’t stopped blowing up my phone and coming over to bring me food.” Gavin chuckled. “Speaking of food, I was calling to see if you’ve already had dinner.”
“Dinner?” Tamia echoed.
Brandon cocked a brow at her.
“Yeah. Dinner. I know it’s kinda late, but I just got home from work, and I really don’t feel like dining alone tonight. So I thought I’d just take a chance and see if you’ve already eaten.”
“Um, no, actually, I’m still at work. But—”
Without warning Brandon took the phone out of Tamia’s hand. Before she could stop him, he told Gavin, “Wassup, man. This is Tamia’s boss. I need her to stay and finish what she’s working on, so she’ll catch up with you another time.”
Tamia eyed him incredulously as he ended the call and stuffed her phone into his pocket. “I can’t believe you just did that!”
“What?”
“What? Brandon, that was so rude and uncalled for!”
“Didn’t you tell me that you’re not interested in that dude?” he challenged.
“Yes, but that’s not the point. You shouldn’t have—Hey! Where are you going?” she sputtered protestingly as Brandon turned and sauntered out of the cubicle.
Huffing an exasperated breath, she jumped up and hurried after him. “Can I at least have my phone back?”
“I’m in the mood for Thai,” he announced, tugging his tie loose as he headed down the corridor. He glanced over his shoulder at her. “You want some Thai?”
“Negro, you have lost your damn mind.”
He chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
At the end of the corridor, he strode through an open doorway.
Tamia followed him, her eyes widening as they swept over the plush corner office that featured an enormous mahogany desk, a dark leather sofa, gilt-framed oil paintings, and a wall of windows that overlooked the downtown skyline.
“Dayum,” she whispered appreciatively. “Talk about movin’ on up.”
Brandon sent her a lazy smile as he crossed to the desk, picked up the phone, and speed-dialed the Thai restaurant.
“The usual?” he asked Tamia.
“Yes, please.”
As he ordered their food, she wandered to the windows and stared out at the glittering skyline, remembering the night she and Brandon had talked on the phone while enjoying the views from where they stood—she on her balcony, he at the office.
“Fifteen minutes,” he told her, hanging up the phone.
“Great.” Tamia looked over her shoulder, watching as he shed his suit jacket and tie, undid the top three buttons of his shirt, unfastened his cuff links, and rolled up his sleeves.
Her mouth watered. She’d always loved his sexy after-hours look, and tonight was no exception.
Glancing up, Brandon met her gaze. “Are you hungry?”
Damn, am I drooling?
“Yeah,” she said slowly, tempted to check the corners of her mouth for saliva. “Why?”
“Because I’m guessing you worked through lunch.”
She grinned sheepishly. “Yes, but I ate. Iris brought me a turkey wrap from the café downstairs. Wasn’t that sweet of her?”
“Very,” Brandon agreed. “But I’m not surprised. Iris is good people.”
“Most definitely.” Tamia walked over to the leather sofa and sat down. “This office is amazing, Brandon. Partnership certainly has its privileges.”
“You could say that. Would you like a drink?”
“Oh, my God. You even have a wet bar?”
“Yup,” Brandon said with a chuckle as he sauntered to the private bar in question. “The firm’s founding partners are throwbacks to the old days when you offered clients a stiff drink and a cigar before starting any meeting. So what’ll you have, pretty lady?”
Tamia smiled, thoroughly charmed. “How about a glass of white wine?”
“Your wish is my command.”
If only!
Settling more comfortably against the sumptuous leather sofa, Tamia watched as Brandon poured her wine and fixed himself a neat scotch. As he walked over to her, they stared at each other, the air between them pulsing with sexual energy. By the time he handed Tamia her drink and sat down beside her, her nipples were so hard they burned.
“A toast,” Brandon murmured, raising his glass to her. “To your first day on the job.”
Tamia smiled. “I’ll toast to that.”
They clinked glasses and sipped their drinks, staring at each other.
“Thanks again for giving me this opportunity,” Tamia said softly.
“You’re welcome.”
“I know Cynthia didn’t approve, so I appreciate your willingness to put your neck on the line for me.”
Brandon’s lips twitched. “It’s all good.”
Tamia sipped more wine, then couldn’t resist asking, “Where is she anyway? I’m surprised she’s not working late.”
“Actually, she is. She’s having dinner with a new client.”
Tamia nodded slowly. “No wonder she’s not here.” Keeping a close eye on you, she added silently.
As Brandon drank his scotch, she continued thoughtfully, “You know, now that I think about it, I’m surprised that this place is so deserted tonight. I remember when we were dating, there were always other attorneys around, working well past ten o’clock.”
Brandon nodded. “It’s still like that. But people typically cut out earlier on Monday nights. And don’t forget Thanksgiving’s right around the corner.”
“Ah.” Tamia nodded. “So even lawyers are susceptible to the holiday productivity slump.”
Brandon chuckled. “Of course. We’re human.”
“Hmm, the jury’s still out on that.”
They shared a quiet laugh.
After staring into his glass for a long moment, Brandon asked suddenly, “Why weren’t you at church yesterday?”
Caught off guard by the question, Tamia floundered f
or an answer before settling on the truth—or as close to the truth as she was allowed. “Well, like I told Shanell yesterday, I’m really not feeling Redeemed Life Ministries.”
“Really? Why not?”
“Honestly? I’m not a fan of megachurches. They seem so impersonal and over the top to me, more like a theatrical production than a worship service.”
Brandon chuckled. “Can’t argue with that.”
Tamia smiled faintly. “When I was growing up, the church I attended with my grandmother was a small community church where everyone knew one another, and it wasn’t uncommon to be invited to the pastor’s house for Sunday dinner.”
Brandon nodded. “That sounds like the church I grew up in.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“So what happened? Why don’t you go there anymore?”
He shrugged. “Once my siblings and I left home for college, attending church wasn’t a priority for us. And once my father launched his political career, he and my mom decided to join a larger church that had more visibility in the community.”
“Of course,” Tamia drawled. “Belonging to Bishop Yarbrough’s megaministry is advantageous for any black politician seeking higher office.”
Hearing the cynicism in her voice, Brandon grimaced. “I wish I could say my father wasn’t motivated by political expediency, but I can’t. Everything he does nowadays is a calculated strategic move to strengthen his candidacy.” Brandon shrugged. “It is what it is.”
“That’s true.” Tamia took a long sip of her wine. “But your father should be careful who he aligns himself with.”
Shit! she thought. Did I just say that out loud?
“What do you mean?” Brandon asked her.
She swallowed hard. “I mean, um, he needs to make sure he doesn’t align himself with anyone who could, um, compromise his campaign.”
“Of course. Believe me, he knows that. It’s all he’s been lecturing us about since he announced his decision to run for governor. ‘Don’t do anything to make me look bad,’ is his new mantra,” Brandon said sardonically before downing more scotch.
Tamia was silent.
Lowering his glass, Brandon eyed her speculatively. “Anyway, were you speaking in general terms just now? Or did you have something specific in mind ... ?”
