Nothing to Lose (12 page)

“Because it's ridiculous, Sherise. There's nothing to discuss. I have to work late. If you're working late too, just call Kenya. Offer her double for another hour.”

“That's your solution?” she asked. “And, of course, I'm the one who has to do it because it's my responsibility, right? I'm the one making this a problem by having the nerve to want a career, so I have to fix it while you have dinner with your little—”

“I'm hanging up, Sherise.”

“You hang up on me, don't you even bother coming home tonight, late or not!” she warned.

“Are you kidding me?”

“Do I sound like I'm kidding?”

“Look,” he said in that voice that is always meant to defuse a situation where she'd gotten too angry to be rational anymore. “If you want me to call Kenya, I will. I just—”

“Fuck it,” Sherise said. “I'll call her. I'll do everything as always. You enjoy your dinner and then come on home, where we'll act like nothing is wrong. The perfect family.”

She hung up the phone and slammed it on her desk. She knew from the moment she laid eyes on Elena that the girl was going to be a problem. A problem her marriage couldn't afford at this point. Something would have to be done.

 

Billie was overseeing Evelyn as she set up the presentation on the computer when the lawyers from Dinklett & Williams came in. Porter was the third lawyer to enter the main conference room at Agencis, looking right out of a
GQ
magazine cover. When Billie looked up, her eyes met his before he quickly looked away.

This didn't bother her. The less attention Porter gave her, the better. This was awkward enough; and after their encounter last week, Billie's stomach was tightening with every second. What she was bothered by was when the teams shook hands and introduced themselves; he glossed right over her like she wasn't there. Everyone noticed it. Everyone there knew they were once married. Billie had thought, since Porter was always one for appearances, that he'd play nice. To be willing to make himself look bad, Billie realized that Porter was angrier than she had thought.

Porter sat at the middle of the table, kissing up to Gil and the other lawyers on the client team, while Billie graciously got acclimated with the rest of his team. As general counsel, Gil called the meeting to order. As he went over the basics of everything that both sides had already talked about, he was quick and to the point, which Billie liked. There were few questions. She stole a few glances at Porter, who stared straight ahead at the presentation.

Billie was ready when Gil brought up the topic of getting a continuance in order to reply. Sitting at the end of the conference table, she turned away from the presentation to the group.

“I've already spoken with David Atwood at the FTC.” Billie's voice was smooth and calm, like she'd hoped it would be. She'd done this many times before. There was no reason for her to be nervous. “I've told him that we need more time for a reply. This investigation came out of nowhere and—”

“You don't actually believe you'll get a delay, do you?” Porter asked, his expression stone.

Billie turned to him, refusing to let it show that his interruption annoyed her.

“Yes, I do,” she replied. “I made it clear to David that this type of notification just flies in the face of FTC tradition. As I'm sure your firm knows, there is usually prior notice of complaints and concerns, followed with meetings and then a determination on an investigation, giving ample time to prepare a possible reply.”

Porter rolled his eyes and looked down at the notebook in front of him. He was writing something down. Billie told herself it was probably nothing, but there was a part of her that was sure he was taking notes on how to try and embarrass her further.

“After we get the continuance,” she said, then slowing her voice noticeably before adding, “and we will, we need you to focus on the reply, of course, but we're concerned about all the document requests from the FTC. There's a five-year window here. We need to get this narrowed.”

“Billie, you should know better than that.” Porter's tone was clearly condescending.

Billie turned to him; this time, her anger was somewhat visible as her eyes seared into his. He seemed unfazed.

“If the FTC wants documents,” he continued. “It's going to get them. Is it really a good use of your company's money to have us—”

“I'll decide what a good use of our money is,” Billie interrupted him, much to his surprise. “You just do the work.”

The words came out a little harsher than she'd expected, but they had the desired effect. After looking extremely offended at being interrupted, Porter pressed his lips together and returned his attention to his notepad again.

The meeting lasted another hour. The only other time Porter upset Billie again was when she was going over the schedule of updates and he acted a little irked, but he never said anything. No one else seemed to notice, or maybe they were pretending not to see.

Billie noticed and she wasn't about to forget. After the meeting ended, she made the rounds as expected, making sure to talk to everyone again and answer any questions. All the while, she kept a side eye on Porter, making sure he didn't leave before she gave him a piece of her mind.

He'd made his way out into the hallway before she rushed over to him, grabbed him by the arm, and pulled him aside. Fortunately, no one else was around at the moment. Billie knew anyone could step out of that conference room, so she needed to be quick.

“What are you doing?” Porter asked.

“I'd like to ask you the same thing,” she sniped. “What's your deal? Why are you trying to one-up me during the meeting?”

He only offered an innocent smile. “
One-up you?
Funny, but no, I wasn't ‘one-upping' you, Billie. I was trying to help you out. You shouldn't be running a case. You don't know what you're doing, and I didn't want you to look foolish.”

“Bullshit,” she said, just under her breath. “You were trying to make me look foolish, and it needs to stop now.”

“Excuse me?” he asked sarcastically. “If you don't want my help—”

“I don't need your help,” she said. “I just need you to remember that I'm the client now. I'm not your peer here. You work for me. Don't second-guess me in front of anyone ever again, or you're going to be sorry.”

From the enraged look on his face, she realized that her words were sinking in. Or maybe it wasn't just sinking in, but it had already been there and he'd thought she didn't know it. Now that it was out there, Porter looked threatened as hell. Billie felt a sense of satisfaction, at least enough to end it there.

She turned and headed to her office, not bothering to look back. She imagined Porter had been standing there, bowled over, as he usually was whenever she stood up to him. Only this time, he hadn't been frozen in place. He was following her.

“Don't you dare walk away from me!” he demanded.

“I'm done talking to you, Porter.” Billie continued to her office at the end of the hallway.

“You're done with me?”

She stopped at the door to her office and turned to face him, waiting for him to approach. He was so livid that she could imagine smoke coming out of his ears about now. All of this time, she'd been thinking that this was going to be very hard on her, but it was Porter who wasn't able to deal. He just figured if he could strike first, she wouldn't figure that out. But she had.

“I know what you wanted,” Billie said. “You were hoping you could use your textbook tricks to intimidate me and put me on the offensive. You were hoping that you could work a number on me mentally before I could figure out the truth.”

“The truth?” he asked, laughing. “What's that?”

“That you're at my mercy,” she said. “You thought you could distract me from that fact by making me constantly on guard against you.”

Porter shook his head. “You need to be on guard against me, Billie. I'm a few months away from being made partner. You already cost me that promotion before. I'm not letting you do it again.”

“I'm not trying to do anything to you, Porter. You always have it in for me, so you assume I always have it in for you.”

“I'm not . . .” Porter held back as Evelyn approached. She was carrying something that was covered in silver wrapping paper, with a red bow around it.

“This came for you,” Evelyn said. “It's from Michael.”

“Michael who?” Porter asked.

Billie looked at her ex as though he was crazy. “Really, Porter? You really think you're entitled to know that?”

“Is this some new boyfriend?” he asked, ignoring her. He stood up straight, his shoulders arching back in his usual jealous stance. “Who is he?”

“None of your business.” Billie took the present. “Thanks, Evelyn. Can you do me a favor and help Mr. Haas here find his group again? He seems to be lost.”

“Um . . .” She looked at Porter nervously. “I guess. Okay, can you follow me?”

“I can find out who he is,” Porter said as Billie walked into her office.

“I think you have other things on your plate.” Billie gave him a cold smile before shutting her office door in his face.

Despite the anxiety she felt about Porter, Billie couldn't deny she was excited to see what Michael had sent her. They were going to have their second date tomorrow night and she'd been looking forward to it before the first date was even over. Every sensible part of her told her not to get too excited. She knew her track record and that Prince Charming just didn't exist anymore.

After she ripped the wrapping off, her heart warmed at the sight of his gift. It was a small, wood-framed, beautiful painting of an adorable little black girl. She couldn't have been more than ten years old, standing next to a window and in front of a canvas, painting a rainbow. She had paint on her nose and her arm. Next to her was a palette of various colors. She'd told him that she used to love to paint and he was listening. A man who listened and remembered? Sensible parts be damned. She was excited as hell.

F
or now, at least, the headquarters for Jonah's campaign staff was set at an ex-lobbyist's office in a building on K Street, downtown
D.C.
But today was the first official day the team would meet, so Jonah decided to have a BBQ at his Leesburg, Virginia, home.

When Erica showed up, after getting past the security in the driveway, her last time at the eight-thousand-square-foot traditional white-column-and-redbrick Colonial mansion came flooding toward her. She'd learned the truth from Billie and Sherise about Jonah being her father; she'd driven out here to confront him. It was one of the most confusing and painful moments in her young life.

Now she was here again, supposedly on better terms, but still cloaked in secrecy. This time, the subterfuge resulted in her being granted a leave of absence from her job at the Pentagon. Once she'd decided to go work for Jonah, she submitted her paperwork. As policy, she submitted it to Caroline, who laughed in her face. To Caroline's surprise, the top office was waiting for the paperwork and had already approved the leave, which could start immediately.

Caroline was furious, demanding it be at least pushed back until major projects the department was working on had been done, but her request was denied. Erica couldn't help but offer her boss a bright, sweet smile as she dropped by her office just to say good-bye. It was just too easy.

Now that she was here, standing at the front door of this home again after such a painful first time, nothing was easy. This would be harder than she could have ever expected. It was true that this could be a great opportunity for her. She was getting paid good money, and not having to deal with Caroline every day was worth twice what she made in actual dollars. But there was also Sherise; and although Erica still wasn't sure she could help her, she was willing to get close enough to Jonah to try.

“Erica!” Alex met her at the door with a wide smile on his face and an outstretched hand. “Finally we meet again.”

Erica shook his hand. He gripped her hand tightly and led her into the house.

The inside of the house was just as Erica expected it to be. It was English-style with old, expensive things on display and mostly everything was white. The foyer was wide, with a white-and-gray-speckled marble floor, which led into a hallway through the middle, and a winding black staircase to the right. It was very moneyed
D.C.

“Erica?” Alex asked. “Are you okay?”

Erica blinked, not realizing that she had frozen in place in the foyer. Alex was a few feet ahead of her, seeming surprised that she still wasn't following him.

“Um . . .” Erica rushed to catch up with him. “Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just . . . It's a nice house.”

“Everything here is nice,” he said, leading her toward the back of the house. “I envy the kids who grew up here.”

“Where did you grow up?” Erica asked.

“Herndon,” he said. “You're from D.C., right? Jonah told me that you were.”

She wondered what else Jonah was telling people about her. “How long have you known him?”

“Come in here,” he said.

They entered the kitchen, which looked newly remodeled with white cabinets and red granite countertops and stainless-steel appliances everywhere. It was way too spacious for an original kitchen, so Erica assumed either room had been added or another room had been knocked out to expand it. There were five people working there, with plenty of room among them.

“Take this.” He handed her a bottle of water. “You can come back here for snacks, but there's a whole spread in the formal dining room. We're going to wait until after Jonah gives his big speech to the team before eating that.”

“Sounds good. I'm not that hungry yet.” Erica knew she wasn't being that expressive, but she was feeling weird walking through this house. Alex's words about being jealous of the kids who grew up there pressed a button somewhere in her.

“My mom was a housekeeper for his sister, Emma, but after I was born, my mom stopped working for her. My dad died when she was pregnant with me. After that, she just needed to start a new life.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” she said.

Erica always felt compassion when meeting other people who also had grown up without their fathers. Maybe that was why she felt she and Alex had a lot in common.

“Thanks,” Alex said. “My mom went on to work for someone else, but she stayed friends with Emma. So I met him a few times as a friend whenever I was at Emma's house and he came over. But then I went off to boarding school.”

“You went to private school?” Erica realized how rude she sounded as she said it, but most kids of maids don't go to boarding schools.

“I got a scholarship to a school in New York,” he said. “Then I went to Columbia. I've only been back for four years, but Jonah was totally cool with offering me this job after hearing I was working on Capitol Hill.”

“You know I have no campaign experience at all,” she said.

He nodded. “I'm not worried. Jonah said you're great at organizing things, a skill we'll desperately need as events and schedules get more complicated. I'm gonna get you started on the grunt work. Come with me.”

She turned as they left the kitchen, down a hallway.

He explained as they walked. “In the study down here, staffers are putting together mailers for fund-raising. That should be enough for—”

“Alex!”

Running up to them was a blond girl holding a phone out to Alex as she approached. “It's ABC, and Stephen isn't around. Who handles the media when he's not around?”

“Eliza, I think.” Alex took the phone from her. “Not sure. Hey, Erica, you can head down to the room on the right, at the end of the hall. I'll catch up with you in a bit.”

“Okay.” Erica watched him rush off with the girl before she turned and headed for the hall.

“So you showed up.”

Erica stopped at the sound of the slurred voice. She turned to her left to see Juliet Nolan standing in the doorway to what looked like a guest bath. Juliet was held together very well for a woman in her fifties who, Erica got the impression, had been drinking a lot for a long time. That was what money could do for you.

She was drab, but in a blue-blooded sort of way that still had an appeal. Her blue eyes were a little glassy and she wore practically no makeup. She had her blond hair in an updo; her pink button-down shirt was tucked tightly into white jeans. The only thing sparkling about her was the expensive pearl earrings and necklace she wore.

Erica had never had a good encounter with this woman. She could tell from the way Juliet was looking at her now, and the glass of wine she held in her hand, that this would be no different.

Jonah had told her from the beginning that Juliet knew about Erica being his daughter. He'd trusted her and told her. According to Jonah, she was the only person he'd ever told. She encouraged him to keep this a secret for his career. According to Jonah, it was cloaked in a play at concern for Erica's best interest. Erica could just imagine this woman pretending to care that going public would be hard on her. She didn't give a damn about Erica. The truth was, she didn't want her perfect family soiled and her chances to get into the White House compromised by his black love child.

In the past, Juliet had pretty much ignored Erica, except for the occasional chance to give her the evil eye. Erica had hoped that trend could continue.

“Do you even care how dangerous it is that you're here?” Juliet asked. The one hand that wasn't holding her wineglass was placed on her trim hip.

“I think you need to discuss that with Jonah” was all Erica said.

“I've tried to,” Juliet countered. “But you've convinced him to keep you around.”

“I've convinced him?”
Erica had to laugh. “Is that what he's told you, or is that what you've decided to believe?”

Juliet leaned toward Erica, her face only inches from hers. “Just know that I don't want you here. I've worked my ass off for this chance, and I'm not letting you mess it up for me.”

Erica didn't move or blink. The scent of superiority emanating from this woman was only overpowered by the alcohol on her breath. Did she actually think she was intimidating her? Did she have any idea where Erica came from? She'd faced five-year-olds tougher than this prissy lush.

“Juliet.”

Juliet seemed startled when Jonah showed up in the hallway. Erica observed her as she seemed to try and pull herself together as he joined them. She was nervous, Erica could tell. She'd probably promised to behave; but after a couple of glasses of Pinot Grigio, she wasn't as in control as she'd thought.

“What are you doing?” Jonah asked her accusingly.

Erica watched as his eyes seared into Juliet's, not hiding his anger. She looked away and cleared her throat. Then she turned back to him with something resembling puppy dog eyes.

“It's nothing, dear,” she said sweetly.

“It didn't sound like
nothing,
” Jonah complained.

“I knew you'd take her side,” Juliet curtly snapped. “She's going to ruin everything.”

Looking as if she was about to get hysterical, Juliet turned and ran toward the kitchen. Jonah looked at Erica. She could see a sort of apology in his eyes, but also a look of helplessness. In that one look, Erica knew what their entire marriage was made of. It was kind of sad, and she felt sorry for him, even though he was an unabashed cheater.

“We'll talk later,” he said, before turning to rush after his wife.

“That's a mess,” Erica whispered to herself as she watched him quickly walk away.

He was only a few feet away when Alex appeared again in the hallway. He didn't look at Jonah walk past him. He was just looking at Erica and she knew why. He'd seen the whole thing. But what did he hear?

“What was that about?” he asked as he approached.

Erica shrugged. “I think she's a little tipsy. I stay out of things that aren't my business.”

“Just make sure you stay away from her,” Alex said. “I know I do.”

“You do?” she asked. “Why?”

“I don't know her that well,” Alex said. “She never came by Emma's house when Jonah did. But my mom didn't like her. She said she wasn't a nice person and I should keep my distance.”

“I'm not afraid of her,” Erica said.

“Afraid?” Alex looked confused. “Why would you say that? Look, we'll both keep an eye out and give each other a heads-up whenever she's coming around. Deal?”

“Deal.” She smiled as they bumped fists.

 

Sherise was having an unusually slow start this morning. After last night's argument with Justin, he'd come home and slept in the guest room. He was gone by the time she'd gotten up that morning and it was making her heart ache. This was all her fault. As usual, she had gotten a hot head. Instead of just telling him what had upset her, she attacked him. They'd gone over this in therapy, but Sherise obviously couldn't learn her lesson. She had to figure some way to apologize to him and fix this, and she had to figure out how to get Elena's ass away from her husband.

However, she couldn't do that without her morning coffee. As Sherise headed to the kitchen area of the office, her nosy nature stopped her. A man, looking shady as hell, in her opinion, was following LaKeisha into her office just a few doors down. He was white, rotund, with balding white hair, wearing jeans and a leather jacket.

After LaKeisha closed the door behind them, Sherise rushed over to Amy Griffin, who was LaKeisha's assistant. Amy sat at the desk closest to LaKeisha's office.

“Who is that?” Sherise asked.

She felt it was better just to come out with what she wanted to know. It usually held more weight than beating around the bush. She wasn't a consultant anymore. She was in a power position now and was going to use that if she needed.

“I'm told he's no one,” Amy responded, with a rolling of her eyes.

Amy Griffin was a mousy, ponytailed twentysomething, with a face that looked like she'd just tasted a lemon.

“Well, then,” Sherise said, “who is ‘no one'? He looks shady.”

“He is shady,” Amy responded. “All PI types are.”

“He's a private investigator?” Sherise asked, her antenna lighting up.

Amy nodded. “I didn't tell you anything, but LaKeisha hired him to get some dirt on Jonah Nolan.”

“What's his name?”

“His name is Jonathan T. No last name, just T. That's your first clue.”

“Who does he work for?”

“Apparently, himself,” Amy answered. “I asked for some paperwork to send to Livia, you know, to pay him like we do all consultants, but LaKeisha was, like, no, she would pay him.”

“All our funds have to be accounted for,” Sherise said. “She doesn't want any paper trails leading back to him.”

“Or us,” Amy added. “And you can't tell Northman. He's not supposed to know about this. Whatever this guy does, I get the feeling that he doesn't always follow the law. LaKeisha said Northman can't ever know about him.”

“That's not smart,” Sherise said. “She should have met him somewhere remote. He's been brought to our offices now. Northman officially knows him.”

Sherise was disappointed in LaKeisha's rookie move, but she was more concerned about this PI. He was looking for dirt. He was looking for her. Sherise had to find out what Erica had learned so far. First, though, she had to find out everything she could about Jonathan T. Would these new problems ever stop coming?