Текст книги "Mutually Exclusive"
Автор книги: Charlotte Winston
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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 17 страниц)
13
The pit in Alexandra’s stomach grew when she snagged the envelope from her office. She bypassed the living room in favor of the kitchen, pouring a tall glass of pinot noir. She rubbed the back of her neck, shoring herself up for the contents of this package. After Roman’s earlier brush-off, she’d come home and gone to bed, but the glow of her alarm clock mocked her. She’d lain awake, worst-case scenarios running through her head until she gave up the futile idea of any rest.
Several articles fell out of the envelope when she shook it. She picked up the first one, so thin she put it back on the table so it wouldn’t rip. The creases were soft when she unfolded it, the half page detailing the plane crash so long before. She smiled when she stared at the picture of her father in front of the courthouse. He looked like her own version of Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, the fearless crusader who fought for the underdog. She’d never seen the article, which detailed the crash. There were two dead, both indiscernible due to the fire in the cockpit, but the flight manifest helped identify the bodies. She turned to the next article, as old as the first, months before the crash.
Misrepresentation: Local Lawyer Accused of Bilking Clients of Millions .
She put her hand over her mouth in disbelief while she scoured the article, which detailed a list of financial crimes her father was suspected of committing against his clients. Overbilling, charging for hours not worked, and various other accusations. She remembered the months prior to the accident—the fights, the tension—but she had no idea about any of this; she’d been shielded, protected, and too young to realize what had happened. The third article, soon after the crash, discussed how the case against him was closed. They had found him guilty, seized some of his assets, but left her mom alone. She picked up her phone, needing answers.
“Hello.” She heard the raspy voice of her mother on the other end. “Alexandra?” Alexandra opened her mouth but no words emerged, only a strangled cry. “Alexandra!”
“Mom, what happened to Dad?”
“Huh? Alexandra, it’s four in the morning. Why are you calling about your father now?”
Alexandra clenched her hand over the article. “Did Dad steal from his clients?” She heard rustling on the other end on the line.
“Look, honey, what occurred years ago is over. They had the investigation and found he did commit some wrongdoing, but those actions do not diminish his accomplishments. It doesn’t matter anymore. He’s gone, and bringing it up will only hurt more people in the long run, your sister and grandparents included.”
“Mom, I’m asking because—”
“I don’t care why you’re asking. Some things are better left unsaid. You’re asking questions about Franklin, and your father, and none of it matters. None of it! Your father is gone, and you need to let it go.” She heard the click as her mother hung up the phone. What the fuck? Alexandra went through the rest of the contents, her curiosity piqued by her mother’s vehement denial.
Her mother, father, and what appeared to be a younger Franklin stared at her. Franklin stood between her parents, with his arms around both, smiling. He had aged extremely well. Almost too well. She thought he’d had some Botox when she first met him, but it was as though the picture occurred five years ago as opposed to twenty. It made it hard to reconcile they were the same man and caused a sliver of unease to run through her. A bill was next, dated five years back, from his plastic surgeon for a facial reconstruction. Why the hell would Franklin need a facial reconstruction?
The final item was the most troubling. Another article, but this one was about the Richardson property, her paternal grandmother’s home.
Gone Too Soon? Adult Star Commits Suicide Following Lover’s Death.
What. The. Fuck? All the salacious details of her father’s year-long affair with an adult film star, Trina Starr, who happened to be living in her grandmother’s house, detailed in black and white. According to several anonymous sources, they were slated to travel to Washington DC together, but he encouraged her to stay home at the last minute. She hung herself from the balcony of the house in the middle of a dinner party with friends, with a note to her chest which read I couldn’t live without him. She was survived by various family, including her two young sons who were in the care of her sister—Roman and Quinn.
***
Alexandra kept it together long enough to finish Franklin’s case. She’d won. He grinned like a loon beside her while the rest of the courthouse filed out. There were a handful of people, their faces blurred. She’d been numb the whole day, reciting her arguments by rote, thankful the case had been wrapped up the week before; they had just been waiting on the judge to announce his verdict.
“I can’t thank you enough, Alexandra.” Franklin gave her a side hug. Alexandra hunched her shoulders, leaning away from him. She’d had no sleep the previous night, combing the Internet for any information about her father’s death. She’d never questioned the story her mother told, too consumed with grief to contemplate any other scenario. When she started practicing, everyone told her how proud he would be, that she was continuing the legacy of excellence. What legacy lived on? The swindler, the adulterer, the lawyer, the husband, or the father who treated his daughters like queens?
“I wish your father could see this. In fact, I know he can.”
She studied him. Why did he continue to mention her father? She was sick of hearing about it. “How do you know my father can see this?
“Did you look through the information I gave you? Things aren’t always what they seem. A shame the way he died, in the crash, unrecognizable. Thank God they had the flight manifest, or they may have believed the wrong person died.” He winked. “Tell my love bug I said hey.”
Love bug. Her father’s nickname for Parker. Franklin grabbed his briefcase, knocking over the glass of water on the table, which shattered as it hit the floor. They both bent to pick up the pieces, a thousand scenarios running through her mind and each one crazier than the next.
“Shit!” Franklin’s left hand was wrapped around his right wrist while he held his bleeding right hand up. Alexandra grabbed the tissues from the desk, passing it to him so he could staunch the blood where he’d cut himself on the glass. “I can’t believe I did that.” She continued to gather the glass, careful she didn’t cut herself.
“Here, put the tissue on here.” She held out the paper where she’d placed the rest of the glass so she could walk it to the trash.
He nodded his thanks, reaching for another tissue. “I have to cut and run.” He held his hand up but she waved him off. He needed to see about his hand, might need stitches; she’d clean up the rest of the mess. He hurried out, leaving Alexandra to deal with it. She watched him go, her thoughts running back to what he’d said earlier. She was crazy; there was no way Franklin Williams was her father. Except he knew about her mother’s golf game, and the childhood nicknames for Parker and her.
She searched the Internet for her question, a wild idea going through her mind. It may not even be legal, but she wanted to know. She had her answer, calling the company she wanted to use, who gave her specific instructions and promised quick results. Pinching the clean corner of the tissue he’d left, she wrapped it into a piece of paper so she could submit it for DNA testing. Franklin Williams was not her father. Her father died in a plane crash, but the doubts Franklin planted were enough to make her second-guess herself. She was going to prove he wasn’t Marcus Kane, and then she’d move on, and this case would be a distant memory.
***
Roman held out his hands for her when she walked into his room at Club Valentine. They were halfway through their trial period, and so far she had no complaints whatsoever. Except for the other night when he’d been abrupt talking about the charity. And being friends with two children who were orphaned? Friends, my ass.
“Hey, Alexandra.” Roman kissed her, his hands twining in her hair and holding her still. “I haven’t seen you in a while.” Not since the other night, when he’d acted like a dick. He treated her like he’d been waiting for her as though nothing was wrong. She had been. She wanted answers.
“I’ve been busy,” she told him as he reached for the clasp of her jeans. “Why do you want the Richardson property?”
He stopped mid-snap. “Does it matter?”
She stepped back to gain some space, buckling her pants. “I believe it does. First, you were a dick to me the other night, and then I saw this article about your mother—”
“Trina Starr was not my mother. She was a porn star who happened to get pregnant twice. She handed her children to her sister without a second glance. Jared and Alina Valentine are my parents.”
She wrapped her arms around her chest to ward off the chill he projected. “Then why do you care about the house your biological mother died in? The cabin’s been in my family for generations; we go there every year. My father’s favorite place.” His hands rubbed the sides of her arms.
“I know. Trina loved it, too,” he whispered before moving away. “She came to us months before she died, prior to the accident, spouting all this nonsense about how your father promised to take care of us. He wanted to leave his wife and be with her. Make us a family. She took us to the cabin for a weekend of bonding. My mom told me Trina was my biological mother and I needed to give her a chance.” His laughter held no humor.
“She brought us to the house he shared with someone else—your mother—and they acted like it was normal. I saw the pictures of your happy family, and wanted to vomit. Here was the woman who’d birthed me. At worst, she was neglectful; at best, she was a distant aunt. And she wanted me to pretend it was normal to be having sex with a married man. And your father stood there as though he were doing nothing wrong, told me I’d have the father figure I’d always dreamed of, as though my aunt and uncle weren’t good enough. My adopted parents, who I called Mom and Dad.”
His hands cupped her face, kissing her forehead. She couldn’t grasp the notion her father would leave her mother. This was worse than when she’d found out Santa Claus wasn’t real. Like he held all her dreams in her hand, ground them into dust, and let them float away on their way to the ground. “My parents were happy.”
He kissed her forehead, one arm wrapped around her while his hand guided her head to his chest. She felt the comforting beat of his heartbeat underneath her ear and held on to him as though he were the last driftwood between her and drowning in the raging river. She wouldn’t contemplate how Roman felt more like home than she’d ever anticipated.
“Can you be sure what went on in your parents’ marriage? How old were you when he died?”
“Eight,” she whispered into his chest. “I’m not getting into their marriage with you but if you hated your biological mother, it doesn’t explain why you want the house.”
“I’m going to destroy it.” She flinched at the vehemence in his words. “No matter how flawed, she was my birth mother, and your father took her and twisted all her dreams. He made her believe they were going to be together. He and the damn house drove her crazy and destroyed anything she could have been. She wasn’t sleeping, barely eating, and kept talking about how she couldn’t leave the house because of him. She came to me after your father died, swearing he hadn’t, and all we needed to do was wait a bit and he’d come back to her. I tried to explain it wasn’t even her house but she swore up and down your father wanted her there and I guessed no one was using it.” Alexandra moved away from him, rubbing her chest where she felt the pain from his words. Roman continued as though she wasn’t freaking out at his newest revelation. No way was her father still alive.
“We both know it was a lie, but your damn father gave her hope, and as the months rolled by, it never sunk in with her. And I hated him. I know it may have been irrational, but he deserved my anger. My biological mother was weak, and he’d manipulated her. I overheard him the weekend we were there, telling someone on the phone he was enjoying his mint. She would be a great addition to his startup company. He was going to use her, and Trina was building castles in the sky.”
The pounding in her ears was too much; she could barely hear, let alone function with all the information Roman had just thrown at her. She walked to the bed, sitting before she fell over. She’d entered into an agreement with a man who hated her father—the one man she’d always worshipped without question—stolen from her before she really had a chance to know him. The more she saw about her hero, the worse she felt, but she needed to know the true extent of him. “What company?”
Roman shrugged. His face gave nothing away, and she’d give a million dollars to read his thoughts. “He never said, although he mentioned another star she’d worked with before. He looked up and saw me watching and told the other guy he would call him back. Then he patted me on the back and told me I couldn’t tell my mother what I’d heard. I assumed it was something dealing with the adult film industry. She quit when she started dating your father, but when she came to pick us up from my aunt, my true mother, she said everyone was clamoring for her to come back. She refused because she wanted to make a go of it with your father, but there was a lot of money at stake.”
And the fun never ends. Alexandra couldn’t handle any more surprises about her father. “Why did she commit suicide?”
Roman exhaled, as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders and he couldn’t hold it any longer. He sat beside her, slinging his arm over her shoulder and kissing her hair. She burrowed her face in his neck, inhaling his familiar scent. She wanted to lose herself in him, but needed to hear the rest of the explanation.
“I got a phone call the day she died. She was crying, telling me he wasn’t coming back. I told her of course not your father was dead. But she said she got a letter from him and he considered her a liability. They could no longer be together despite wanting her, so it was her version of a ‘Dear John’. She cried, telling me she couldn’t go on without him, and I brushed off her threats. I told her she could, because she had two boys who needed a friend.
“I already had a mother, but I wanted her in my life, you know? She was flawed, broken even, but there is still a little part of me who wanted the woman who swooped in and took me on an adventure a couple days a year to show she cared. And I hated him. You have no idea how much I hated him. For the devotion my mother showed him, and the bullshit he spewed, and how his supposed final words pushed her over the edge. She hung herself in the house you love so much, and I want it gone. Nothing good can come from keeping it. To your family, it represents love, and a disillusioned harmony they bullshit you into believing, but for me, it’s a reminder my mother didn’t love her children enough to fight through the issues she was dealing with. She gave her love to a man who was unavailable, and it killed her.”
“Roman.” Alexandra moved his arm from across her shoulders. Her heart broke for the little boy who needed his birth mother, but she needed to understand where she fit in this story. “You had to know who I was before we started our agreement. Why would you have sex with the daughter of a man you hated?”
Roman looked away, and a sense of unease ran through her the longer he sat silent. She lay her hand over his thigh, seeking the guy she’d been falling for, but he jumped as though he’d been burned. His hands ran through his head while he paced in front of her. “I told you no because you were his daughter. When you came in, I was still going to tell you no. You’re beautiful, but I didn’t need to get entangled with the daughter of Marcus Kane. But I couldn’t throw you to the wolves with our other patrons. When you offered the house, it sealed the deal. I’ve tried to buy the property for years, and knew if anyone could get me access you could.”
“It’s mine,” she acknowledged. She probably shouldn’t disclose that tidbit, but the words were out before she could stop them. “I got it on my last birthday. We go there to remember my dad, usually on the weekend he died, and I hate it. I want to remember him doing something he loved, not in the house. I had no idea someone died there. My family…” She cleared her throat, composing herself. He walked to the mini fridge in the corner, grabbing her a bottle of water. She accepted, drinking it to clear the lump in her throat. How would she be able to talk about the lies?
“They tried to protect my sister and me.” She felt her eyes water but carried on. “There’s no shame in protecting us.” He stayed quiet, and Alexandra wanted the ground to open and swallow her whole. She’d believed he cared about her. They’d spent time together in and out of bed, and were friends. But she now felt like a means to an end. To destroy a house. A piece of architecture in her family for generations, but something which held such pain for him he couldn’t stand the thought of it even existing. He should have told her. She understood why he didn’t at first, but he had no excuse for lying when they started to become friends. And that hurt. Damn, she hurt.
“I need to go.” He grabbed her hand, pulling her back down beside him.
“Alexandra—”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’m not running out, I’m not ending anything, but I need to go. Today was…enlightening to say the least, and I need to process. Without you angling for sex, or for a house I believed would go to an owner who wanted it. So I’m going to go. And you’re not going to follow me. Because you’re going to respect my decision to be alone right now. I will call you later this week and let you know what I’ve decided, because I don’t know if I can continue to have sex with a man who’s lied to me since the minute I met him.”
“If we don’t continue it’s your choice, not mine. I kept up my end of the bargain; you better keep up with yours.” A punch to the stomach would have hurt less. He let her know where she fit in the equation. And she wanted a guy who may not be available. Someone lost to her long before she ever met him.
14
“Aren’t you stunning, as always?” Parker greeted Alexandra with a hug when she walked into the ballroom two weeks later. “I think your win has you glowing.” She smiled.
Alexandra laughed; Parker was probably right. Since she’d nailed the Williams case, the company was able to proceed with going public. She couldn’t believe it, and this all but sealed the deal for her to become partner. She won the case, and she probably won the office she craved. Franklin had left her alone, and she got the results of her DNA test that morning. Negative. Whatever crazy idea she had about her father being alive were put to rest. Thank God. She was even having sex on the regular, even though no one knew about it.
She’d seen Roman several times since she discovered why he wanted the house but it felt stilted, their earlier banter thrown to the wayside for sex only. The trial period was coming to a close fast, and she’d agreed to sell him the house when it was over. It was unsettling, since she’d been honest with him and he’d lied to her. She missed their old relationship. He’d been her constant companion prior to her discovering his true intentions and something more seemed to be brewing before she discovered his deception. It was a lie of omission, but it didn’t matter when she realized his true intent. He still continued to send her little gifts to her desk, generally of the X-rated variety, even though she wasn’t talking to him. She gained a new set of kettle balls, a pink pair of handcuffs, and the same kind of vibrator he used on her sometimes.
Since I’m not with you, the note said sneakily. They were almost a couple, but not. Although sometimes at night, when she had lay there after a sweaty round of sex, she’d reach for his hand and he’d take it, communicating without words. It had somehow become more, but how do you take something based on lust and create a lasting relationship? Did she even want to after what she found out? A foundation built with sand, full of empty promises, sexual gratification, and lies, thrived at night so you didn’t have to face what you did in the daylight.
“Thank you.” She smiled. “You two look gorgeous yourselves.” She hugged Parker’s fiancé Anthony, dashing in a three-piece suit, standing beside Parker so they looked like a pair of brunette dolls. Ready to play in Barbie’s funhouse, where all the wealthy, privileged people hung out, ignoring the gilded cage it represented. She took in the grandeur of the event, all there to celebrate her grandfather, amused at the opulence and money people tended to throw at these affairs, knowing they had so many skeletons in their own closet it would take a forklift to dig them out.
She’d spoken to no one about what she learned of her father, wanting to get through the event before she breeched it with her mother. She laughed at the hypocrisy because nothing mattered as long as appearances were maintained. It was the same with Roman’s club. Half these people were members, she’d seen some of them herself, but no one would let on they’d been spread-eagle having a threesome the night before.
“How are you?” Parker inquired after Anthony left to talk to some clients from work. “Gran and Papa said you should be a shoe-in for partner, and Mom has been walking around like they offered her the promotion.”
“I know.” She squeezed Parker’s hand in excitement, the most emotion she’d be able to feel at this shindig. “Right now, it’s just a waiting game. I still have five months before they make a decision, but Henry pretty much told me the other day I have it.”
“I knew you could do it,” Parker gushed. “Dad would be so proud.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. Months before, she would have gotten emotional when talking about her father with her sister, but she couldn’t find it in herself to cry for a man who’d become an enigma. “But enough about me, what’s going on with the wedding?” After failing to find a venue Parker decided to have a destination wedding with only twelve guests in the Dominican Republic. There would be little preparation on their end because the resort took care of most of the details. It bummed Alexandra since she’d always dreamed of helping her sister plan a fairy-tale wedding. Her current schedule meant she wasn’t getting married anytime soon, so she wanted to live vicariously through Parker.
“Amazing,” she said. “I am relaxed, and the resort has made the process as smooth as possible. All I have to do on this end is pick out my dress, as well as yours.”
“When did you want to go?” Alexandra took two champagne flutes from the passing waiter, giving one to her sister before taking a sip of her own.
“Next month.” She shrugged. “As long as we make sure there is enough time for alterations.”
“No problem,” she told her. “I’m so happy for you and Anthony. You guys are made for each other, and I’m so excited my big sister is getting her piece of happiness.”
“Thank you.” Parker threw her arm around Alexandra’s shoulders, kissing her cheek again. “Now my little sister needs to take her own advice and find someone for herself.”
“Parker, you know I have—” Alexandra began.
“Work,” Parker interrupted. “But I’m sick of that excuse. You’ve always been so focused on work it’s been unnatural. You’ve allowed it to consume you. I wish some man had broken your heart. At least then there’d be a chance someone could come along and show you men aren’t dogs and piece it back together, but not you. Dad would be proud of you with whatever career path you chose; there’s no reason to be obsessed with him.”
“I know that.” And after she discovered the new information she couldn’t fully commit herself to a legacy she couldn’t agree.
“Do you? You’re so busy trying to fill Dad’s shoes, you’ve forgotten what it’s like to have a life of your own. I loved Dad, too, but he wasn’t the perfect guy you created in your mind.”
“I have a life,” she objected, ignoring Parker’s comments about her father.
Parker stepped back, scanning the crowd. “When was the last time you had a date?”
“That’s none of your business,” Alexandra mumbled. She couldn’t remember, and since Roman and she weren’t technically dating, she couldn’t even use him as an answer.
“I thought so,” she told her, “which is the reason I agreed to this.”
Alexandra narrowed her eyes, “Agreed to what?” Parker refused to answer, instead holding her arms out for their grandmother, who was staring at Alexandra with a calculated gleam in her eyes.
Cagey old goat, she thought, taking in the entourage that seemed to follow her. She hugged her grandfather before greeting Blair and Derrick. Her mother was last, holding on to her longer than normal. They’d spoken a couple times since their disagreement, but Alexandra hadn’t brought it up again.
All the hellos were issued to people she knew, leaving the handsome man who stood off to the side for last. He was stunning, one of those guys you’d think were sculpted from a Greek statue. She noted the blond hair that hang in shaggy waves, the blue eyes, chiseled cheekbones, and the lips that looked like they could do some damage, suddenly turned up in a smirk. Clearly someone else knew what was going on here, she thought, returning the expression. This could be fun. Not.
“Alexandra, darling.” Her grandmother smothered her with affection, palming her face and examining her like a drill sergeant. “You look stunning.” She leaned in to whisper. “Come meet Brandon. He’s one of the new engineers who works at your grandfather’s company.”
“An engineer, huh?” She grinned, shaking his hand.
“Not the most attractive of professions,” he admitted, the blush creeping up his cheeks.
“Well, you know what they say about engineers.”
He blinked a couple of times, confusion and trepidation setting in his face. “No, I don’t. What do they say?”
“They know how to get stuff done.” She said it with a straight face, watching the blush set in when he figured out what she was referring to.
“Right.” He coughed to cover up his embarrassment, taking a long pull of his beer.
“Is my granddaughter being inappropriate?” her grandmother asked when she figured out Alexandra made him blush. “She takes after her father, and my husband, so I do apologize.”
“No apology needed.” Brandon smiled at her. “Shall we?” He offered her his arm, and Alexandra hesitated, not wanting him to get the wrong impression. Everyone around them was silent, watching the exchange, and Alexandra wasn’t going to be rude to the guy. He had been a gentleman, so she took the arm he offered and allowed him to lead her away from the group.
“Thank you for that,” he told her as soon as they were out of earshot. “I was worried you were going to make a stink of coming, and then your grandmother was going to try harder to get us together.”
“You don’t…” she started, quieting down when he shook his head.
“Let them think we’re discussing our future children.” He winked. “It saves us both the trouble of having to pretend we want to date. It’s been phenomenal working for your grandfather’s company, and I’d hate to sour our relationship because their granddaughter rejected me.”
“I wouldn’t have rejected you,” she reassured him, even though she thought of doing just that when he’d first offered his arm.
“Oh, I’m not offended. I see the writing on the wall. Who wants to be thrown into a surprise hookup because their grandmother is worried she’s going to die an old maid?”
“Hey!” She was single, not desperate. But it’s not how it seemed to her grandmother, who never saw nor heard her speak of a date.
“Did I offend you? It wasn’t my intention; I tend to just speak what’s on my mind. It’s probably an occupational hazard.” He led her to the nearby bar, grabbing another beer before offering her some more champagne. She accepted, trying to figure out his deal.
“So, what’s your angle?” she asked outright, instead of assuming.
“No angle, I just wanted a chance to talk to the most beautiful woman in the room without interruption, pretending I’m the guy you wanted.” Was she transparent? She hoped not, but Brandon seemed more perceptive than most. Hanging out with him would accomplish two goals: it would get her grandmother off her back, and she could ignore people who bored her by hiding in the back.
“Well, hell, since that’s all you want, cheers.” She held out her glass, smiling when he pressed his to hers with a resounding clink.
She enjoyed spending time with Brandon. A nice guy, if a bit unrefined and too blunt for her tastes, but he kept her laughing during a potentially boring evening. They stayed in the back until dinner, and she was surprised to find they were seated next to each other, although she shouldn’t have been. Her grandmother was running this show, so she’d made sure her granddaughter was seated next to the eligible bachelor of her choosing. They survived dinner and the awards, where her grandfather accepted the gift, being sure to thank his family, making special mention of the charity’s contribution to the community and reminding people to bet on the auction to help with ongoing support. It felt a bit disingenuous, given all she’d found out about her father.
When the list of sponsors rolled on the screen, she felt a sense of pride when she saw Club Valentine on the list. If not for Roman, she may have been willing to give the guy beside her a shot, but although he proved to be a great distraction, there was no sexual chemistry. Nothing. Not even a spark when she put her hand on his arm. And she tried, because he was safe. But she was starting to believe she was only fooling herself, believing she could deny her feelings for Roman.
