Billionaire's Tragedy (Standalone Book) (Billionaire Bad Boy Romance) (28 page)

CHAPTER
SEVEN

Dax

Hundreds
of well-dressed young people came to Apex looking to dance, drink, and
hopefully hook up. I aimed to give them everything they were looking for – and
then some. A good portion of the club-goers had already been screened and
checked and would be allowed into the roped-off portion of the club, where they
could discreetly buy drugs from a number of waitresses who silently circulated
carrying old-fashioned cigar trays on their voluptuous chests.

I watched the club
fill up from my vantage point in the office above the dance floor and tried to
figure out how I would manage to keep things running smoothly until Lydia
returned. This had happened before, and I knew she wouldn't be gone long. It's
just that this was the first time anyone except me knew that she was missing.
All the other times, she'd called me from a sleazy motel somewhere outside of
town and begged me to come pick her up, and every time I would.

At one point, I'd
thought Lydia was the one. A leggy redhead whose personal and professional
attitudes were the exact same, I admired her strength and was aroused by the
challenge she constantly presented. The problem was that Lydia and I were so
completely combustible and once her match lit my gasoline, we had problems. We
spent a couple of years going back to each other again and again with
disastrous results until we agreed that we could work together and, eventually,
be friends, but we couldn't keep trying to make a relationship work – no matter
how hot the sex was.

Lydia lived life
on the edge. She hated being bored and lived for the thrill of new experiences,
which was probably why she loved working with me. Once we'd set the boundaries
of our professional relationship – and stuck to them – she went out looking for
something to fill the space. I was often tempted to get back together with her
just to stop the downward spiral of self-destruction, but she wouldn't allow
it. So, I watched from the sidelines and cleaned up the messes.

Meanwhile, Lydia
kept my organization out of trouble with the courts. She bailed my corner boys
out and prevented the police from raiding the club or my hotel over on Grand
Ave. No matter how messed up her personal life was, she kept her professional
life in tiptop shape. I knew she’d been working on a new deal that would have
put the firm on solid ground in the legitimate legal world. I knew she had
worked incredibly hard to establish herself as a lawyer that people could
trust. I was worried about this disappearance – it wasn't like her.

I looked back down
at the floor and saw Beck walking toward the bar, closely followed by Riza. He
seemed oblivious to her presence as he had a small curvy brunette tucked under
his arm. She looked familiar, but I couldn't place her. Riza looked up at the
two-way mirror and raised an eyebrow, then looked back at Beck and his date.

I quickly tapped out
a message on the screen of my phone and hit send. I looked back down at the
floor and saw Riza glance at her phone, then look up and nod. She turned and
walked toward the back of the club, leaving Beck and his girl at the bar.

"He picked
her up on Flower and then went to dinner before heading over here," Riza
said as she walked into the office. "Seems legit, but I don't recognize
her."

"I do,"
I said. "But I don't know why."

"You think
she's a plant?"

"I don't
know, but I do know that Beck is dumb enough not to recognize her if she
is," I said as I looked out over the club and watched him falling for the
petite girl. The feeling that I knew her was nagging at me, but we had bigger
fish to fry. "Did you find out anything about Lydia?"

"Nah, no
one's talking," she replied. "But I get the feeling that someone
knows something. I just don't know who that someone is."

"Ri, do you
think she's okay?" I asked.

"No idea,
boss," she said. Her answer unnerved me because I knew that it meant that
she was worried, too. If Riza had been sure that Lydia was just on another
bender, she would have already tracked her down.

"Something
feels very wrong, but I don't know what it is," I said. "We need to
get a handle on this situation and lock it down,
Ri
.
Otherwise, we're going to be hemorrhaging before we know it."

"What do you
want me to do?"

"I want you
to find Lydia and then figure out who this girl is that Beck's hooked up
with," I said as I looked back out over the dance floor and watched Beck
slow dancing to fast music with the little brunette. His hands were cupping her
ass and the two of them were kissing. "And get them the fuck off the dance
floor before they wind up getting arrested for indecent exposure, would
you?"

"Sure thing,
boss." Riza grinned as she saluted and headed for the door. Before she
exited, she turned and said softly, "Dax, it's going to be okay. I'll find
Lydia and make sure that Beck doesn't make an ass of himself."

"I hope
so," I said as I massaged my temples and watched the floor. "I sure
as hell hope you can work your magic to keep us out of trouble."

"I got your
back, boss," she said and then she was gone.

CHAPTER
EIGHT

Brooke

Once
we'd all calmed down, Roger, Jordie, and I spent the rest of the day mapping
out a plan of attack. We decided to launch an Internet campaign that would be
directed at those who ran with a faster and looser crowd than we'd been used to
representing and see what it brought in.

Roger and Jordie
had come up with a slogan that was both humorous and serious, even Alma
chuckled when she typed up a copy of the flyer that read, "If you've got
99 problems, don't let your lawyer be one of them!
".
I wasn't sure I agreed with the approach, but since I couldn't come up with a
reason why we shouldn't do it – and because I was still smarting from Roger's
accusation – I went with the guys and threw myself into the process of
attracting more business.

The three of us
split up and took separate sections of town where we'd hand out the flyers and
make contact with people who'd be likely to send clients our way. My stops were
all of the bail bond places on Skid Row. I smiled and handed out flyers and
cards as I made it clear that no case was too small and no problem too big for
us to handle. The people in the bail bond offices nodded, took the flyers, and
then went back to processing the bonds necessary for their clients to get out
of jail.

After the fifth
less-than-enthusiastic response, I felt let down and knew I needed to change my
attitude. So, I drove by the fire station looking for my brother, Teddy. As
usual, he was in the kitchen, whipping up dinner.

"Brookie!"
he shouted. "Come here and help me stir this pot!"

"Teddy, you
know I don't cook," I laughed.

"This isn't
technically cooking," he shot back. "It's stirring, there's a
difference. Believe me."

"Fine,
whatever." I walked over and took the spoon out of his hand as he leaned
in and kissed my cheek.

"It's good to
see you, Sis," he smiled. "What brings you down to the good old
28?"

"I just
wanted to check on you and see what you were doing," I said nonchalantly.

"Mom sent
you?" he asked.

"No! I came
of my own accord!" I laughed.

"Oooh, such
big words for such a little girl!" he teased. "You'd think you were a
lawyer or something! Oh wait, you are, aren't you?"

"You're such
an ass," I said as I shifted my stance and hip bumped him hard enough to
send him shuffling sideways a few steps.

"Watch it,
little sis!" he laughed. "I'm working with hot stuff here!"

"What is it
you're cooking, anyway?" I asked as I stuck the spoon into the red sauce
bubbling on the stove and gave it a few stirs.

"Spaghetti
Bolognese!" he said as he focused his attention on a sizzling skillet full
of ground beef. The smell was intoxicating, but then, Teddy was an
extraordinary cook. He'd been cooking since he was nine. My parents had tried
to convince him to open a restaurant, but he'd said that having to do it
professionally would take the fun out of something he enjoyed. So he joined the
fire department and volunteered to cook for his crew. This made him the single
most popular fire fighter in the department. Everyone wanted to work with Teddy
Raines. But to me, he was just my annoyingly protective big brother.

"It smells
amazing," I said as I continued to stir the sauce that I knew full well
didn't need stirring. "You're a genius when it comes to food, Teddy."

"Aw, thanks,
Sis," he smiled as he carefully browned the beef, adding a few more herbs
and some garlic. "But really, why are you here?"

"Teddy, am I
unreasonable?" I asked, barreling into the discussion.

"Define
unreasonable," he said.

"I mean, do I
have unrealistic expectations of men in my life?" I continued. "Do I
crush men under the weight of my expectations?"

"Who fed you
that bullshit?" he asked.

"Just someone
who was making an observation about why I'm not able to maintain a
relationship," I admitted. "I just can't tell if it's true or
not."

"Sis, aside
from the fact that you're my pesky little kid sister, you're not any more
unreasonable than any other human being on the planet," he said. "You
just have high expectations because you were raised by two extraordinary
individuals who taught you to believe that you have value and worth."

"But does
that make it impossible for me to maintain a relationship with a man?" I
asked.

"It
might," he said as he pulled the skillet off the stove and siphoned off
the grease. "But is that such a bad thing? I mean, do you know how many
women I've dated who have exceptionally low expectations?"

"No," I
said. "How many?"

"Too
many," he said as he carefully patted the meat with a paper towel,
removing the last bits of grease. Watching Tommy cook was like watching a
master painter or sculptor. He did every step with care and focus and that was
the reason his food was so intensely delicious. "It's hard to respect a
woman who lowers her standards to meet whatever anyone offers her. Gina was the
first woman who didn't do that, you know?"

"Is that what
you like about her? Her high expectations?" I asked.

"Hell yeah, I
love that about her," he said as he carefully folded the brown seasoned
beef into the pot I was stirring. The scent wafted upward and I felt dizzy as I
inhaled. "She doesn't let me get away with anything, and that inspires me
to aim higher and achieve more, but she loves me unconditionally, too. Her
thing is that if I try and fail, it's a thousand times better than never trying
at all."

"I did not
know she was such a motivator," I said as I looked down into the pot and
continued stirring.

"Why do you
think I took the Lieutenant's exam last winter?" he asked.

"Gina put you
up to that?"

"No, she
simply told me that if I didn't try, I'd regret it. Because it was obvious to
her that I had the skills, intelligence, and experience to make a great
Lieutenant," he said. "How could I not try after that glowing
appraisal?"

"But you're a
total jackass." I grinned into the pot, bracing for what would come next.

"Indeed I am,
Sis," he laughed. "Here, put this in the pot, will you?"

"You didn't
noogie me," I said surprised that for once in his life my brother had not
put me in a half-nelson and rubbed his knuckles into my head.

"I'm on
duty," he grinned. "You'll get yours later. Why don't you stay for
dinner?"

"I'd love to,
but I need to get these flyers out and Mom's expecting me," I said.

"You don't
want to see Jake," he said.

"Well,
there's that," I nodded.

"He's
engaged, you know," Teddy said.

"Yeah, I'd
heard that."

"Then you two
should be able to sit at opposite ends of the table and not start World War
III," he said. "Stay and have dinner with me, please?"

"Hey, that
wasn't my fault," I protested. "He started it and finished it. I was
just dragged along for the ride."

"Sis, I
know," Teddy said as he patted my shoulder. "You give as
good
as you get."

"Whatever,"
I grumbled as I stirred a little faster.

"Hey, hey,
hey, easy on my sauce," he said as he took the spoon and lifted it to his
lips. "Ahhh, the perfect sauce for the perfect noodles!"

"You are such
a weirdo when it comes to food," I laughed.

"Never heard
you complain about a meal I made," he replied as he turned and pulled the
bread out of the oven. "Now, go call the crew to dinner, will you?"

#

"
Be
nice," Teddy whispered, as he set
the steaming bowls of pasta down on the table and then sat next to me.

"I'll do my
best," I said through gritted teeth as I watched Jake Conner take his seat
on the other end of the table.

"Hey,
Brooke," he called as he helped himself to leafy green salad. "Glad
you could join us!"

"Are you
now?" I asked and cried out as I felt Teddy's work boot connect with my
ankle. "I mean, it's really nice to be here."

"How have you
been?" Jake asked. "I hear the law firm is doing well."

"It's a
challenge," I admitted. "We're trying to drum up more business right
now."

"Hey, that's
great!" he said.

"How are you
doing?" I asked in a tone that was politer than I felt like being, but the
threat of Teddy's boot kept me trying. "I hear you're engaged."

Half the heads at
the table snapped up and looked at Jake waiting to hear how he would navigate
this minefield.

"Yeah, can you
believe it?" he said with a sheepish grin. "Cindy agreed to get
hitched."

"No, I'm not
surprised at all," I said as I twirled the thick linguini noodles with my
fork. "You two were always good at making things happen together."

"Hey, what
does that mean?" he said as he grabbed the tongs and put more pasta on his
plate. "Pass the sauce?"

"It just
means that the two of you have always worked well together," I said, then
added, "Even when you weren't together."

"I never
fucking cheated on you, Brooke, and you know it!" Jake exploded, tipping
the bowl full of sauce as he shot up out of his seat and pounded on the table.
"You know I never cheated!"

"Did I say
you cheated?" I shouted.

"No, you used
your lawyer skills and you implied it," he yelled. "You're always so
judgmental and just below the surface where you think you'll never get caught!
You've always hated Cindy, and you're still pissed that I moved on and found a
way to be happy while you're still so damn...damn...damn miserable!"

I sat at the other
end of the table staring at him. He had lashed out and stabbed my soft
underbelly with his words. He was right, of course, but I didn't want anyone to
know how much his words hurt. Teddy grabbed my hand under the table and
squeezed tightly. I knew he knew what was going through my mind, and I also
knew that I had to keep my temper under control. I was in his space, the place
where he had to live and work. I couldn't afford to let loose and soothe my
wounded ego by tearing Jake to pieces. I knew that he had actually cheated on
me with Cindy, and he knew it, too. But to explain why I knew meant I'd have to
admit that I wasn’t good enough to keep a man and that was something I'd rather
have forgotten. Dredging it up here in the firehouse wouldn’t do either of us any
good.

"Jake,"
I said calmly as I stared down at my plate. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that we
can't sit down and have a nice dinner. I'm sorry that you're still angry with
me after all this time. And I'm sorry that you feel I used my lawyer skills to belittle
you. I'm sorry."

The guys at the
other end of the table gently punched Jake's shoulder and murmured that he
should accept my apology. Teddy squeezed my hand harder, and I knew he was
grateful that I was making the first move to be civil. Jake looked at the table
for a long time before he looked up at me and said, "I don't accept your
apology, Brooke. You're a ball-busting bitch and the reality is that you're
never ever going to find a man who will love you the way I once loved you.
You're going to spend your life being miserable because you are a small, mean,
angry woman who likes to make strong men feel weak. So, fuck you."

And with that,
Jake turned and stormed out into the truck bay. A couple of the guys followed
him and I could hear them yelling at him, but the damage had been done. I
looked at Teddy as the tears welled up in my eyes, then I crumpled up my
napkin, threw it on the table, grabbed my purse off the counter, and ran out of
the station crying. Teddy chased me, yelling my name, but I didn't want his
sympathy or, worse, a lecture.

Maybe Jake was
right. Maybe I was a miserable, mean woman who couldn't do anything right. I
shoved the key into the ignition, cranked the engine, and peeled out of the
drive. I had already decided that I needed a stiff drink and some time alone,
so I headed straight for Dooley's over on 7
^th
and Olive. If I
couldn't fix my problems with words, then I would drown them with alcohol.