Nothing to Lose (17 page)

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Authors: Angela Winters

BOOK: Nothing to Lose
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“Baby,” she said, “Jacob will make this go away, won't he?”
Justin didn't answer and it ached her.
“If we can prove it's empty,” she said. “Not only will he get rid of it, but we'll be able to sue her for defamation of character. She won't get a job—”
“ ‘If'?” He swung around to face her. “There you go again, using words of doubt.”
“I'm sorry.” She threw her hands in the air. “I don't know the right words. That's not the point.”
“From someone whose career it is to say the right words?” He moved away from her, walking to the center of the living room.
“I'm not the bad guy here,” Sherise said.
“But you're not sure I'm not either,” Justin said back.
“What I am sure of,” Sherise said, “is that I knew this bitch was trouble from the first day I saw her. Lying for a payday is something a woman like her would do without a second thought. That's what this is, baby. Jacob will show that.”
“He has to.” Justin's voice held a sense of despair. “I've worked so hard to make my name in this industry. She can't ruin everything over a lie. She can't!”
Sherise rushed over to him and wrapped her arms around him. This time, he responded and held her back, burying his face in her shoulder. She could feel his heavy sighs and she held him even more tightly.
“She won't,” Sherise said. “I won't let her.”
10
O
n her way out of campaign headquarters, Erica was trying to calm Sherise down over the phone. She was extremely upset and not thinking rationally. She had called Erica in a fit, yelling about Elena filing a harassment claim against Justin at the firm. Sherise had gotten an epiphany that somehow Elena was a plant from Jonah.
“You're not thinking clearly,” Erica said. “Jonah would have no reason to do this to Justin or to you. It makes no sense.”
“Jonah will do whatever he wants,” Sherise insisted. “He could have created this situation to distract me from my work with Northman—to get me out of the way.”
“You're his communications chief, Sherise. You're not a strategist for them.”
“But I know his secrets,” she answered back.
Erica sighed. “His secrets are your secrets. Don't you get that? He knows you won't tell. Because even though he could lose his chance at the White House, you would lose your reputation and your family. He's not afraid of you.”
“Then why?” Sherise asked.
“That's my point,” Erica said as calmly as she could. “There's no reason why. Whatever Elena is up to, whatever she is about, and wherever she came from, it's not connected to . . .”
Just as the elevator door opened, Erica came face-to-face with the man of the hour. Jonah was standing in the middle of the elevator, with one of his Secret Service guards flanking his left side. Jonah had his head down, busy talking on his phone, but he looked up as the door opened.
“Get in,” he said, a smile coming to his face.
“I can, uh . . .” She wasn't sure what to say. “I can take the next—”
“Get in,” Jonah ordered, “before it closes.”
Upon that note, the guard reached out and placed his hands at the elevator door to keep it from closing. Erica didn't have much choice.
“I'll call you back,” she said into the phone before shutting it off and stuffing it into her pocket.
“By tonight,” Jonah whispered into the phone.
Erica nervously turned her back to him. Even without having just been talking about him to Sherise, this was awkward and weird. When would it ever not be with this man? Especially not when his mute, burly guards, with spiral wires coming out of their ears, were around.
“I don't care about the delicacies,” Jonah said. “He goes down tonight. Period.”
Erica felt a bit of a shiver down her spine at the thought of whoever it was that Jonah was talking about. The way in which he yielded his power was both disgusting and fascinating to her.
“I will see you tomorrow night,” he suddenly said in a much lighter, jovial tone.
Erica turned to face him. The look on his face made it very clear this was an order and not meant in the way normal people, who didn't think everyone had to do what they said, would mean.
“Yes,” she answered dutifully. “And I'll be bringing my date. You'll love him. Only three stints in jail. Never been to prison even once.”
He wasn't impressed. “You don't have a date.”
“You don't know that,” she said, forgetting for a second to whom she was speaking. He knew everything.
“Everyone has to pass security,” Jonah said. “Even dates. But nice try.”
“I'll try harder next time,” she said smartly.
“I wish you wouldn't,” he responded flatly.
The elevator door opened onto the first floor of the building and Erica turned to step out. Jonah was right behind her as she walked toward the lobby.
“Let's make a deal,” Erica said. “I won't try to piss you off, if you don't try to set me up.”
“Malcolm has an incredible amount of promise,” he responded.
“You mean the kind of promise that a silver spoon offers.”
“A silver spoon didn't get him a 4.0 GPA at Harvard Business School.”
“But it probably got him into Harvard Business School in the first—”
“Jonah!”
Erica looked toward the center of the lobby, where there were a few people standing around. One of them was Jonah's other security detail, who joined them immediately. But also coming toward them was Alex, with a reluctant Mexican woman, who looked to be in her fifties, following behind.
“I'm glad I caught you,” Alex said as they approached. He looked at Erica. “Hey, Erica.”
“Hey,” she said. “I was just on my way home, so I'll leave you two—”
“No.” Alex took her arm to hold her there. “I want you to meet someone. Jonah, you remember my mom, Leeza.”
“Of course I do,” Jonah said cordially. “It's nice to see you again, Leeza. It's been a very long time.”
“Yes, it has,” she agreed, her accent softly detected. “Always nice to see you, Mr. Nolan.”
“Mr. Nolan?” Alex laughed. “Mom, you know you can call him ‘Jonah.' ”
“I'd really prefer you to,” Jonah said, seeming a bit annoyed.
Her expression was stoic as she offered, “Old habits die hard. Jonah.”
“Well, I have to get going,” Jonah said. “You all have a good evening. Erica and Alex, I'll see you tomorrow night.”
“Of course, sir,” Alex called after him as Jonah abruptly turned and walked away with his security.
For a second, Erica noticed a look of derision on Leeza's face as she watched Jonah walk away. It was only for a second. If Erica had blinked, she would have missed it. Leeza quickly replaced it with a kind smile and turned her attention to Erica.
“So you're Erica,” she said, holding out her hand. “My son has told me a lot about you.”
Erica shook her hand firmly. “That I mostly annoy him, I'm sure.”
“Not at all.” Alex laughed a little nervously as if he didn't want his mother saying he'd been talking about her. “I've only had great things to say about you. As a matter of fact, I told my mom you would back me up on a disagreement.”
“I don't want to get between you and your mom,” Erica said.
“It's a waste of time,” Leeza said. “He wants me to come to that fund-raiser thing with him and I won't.”
“She's supposed to be my date.” Alex pouted. “But she's not a big fan of Jonah's.”
“Why not?” Erica asked, even though it wasn't any of her business.
Leeza shrugged, seeming annoyed with Alex for even bringing it up. “I'm a Northman fan. That's all I'll say.”
Alex rolled his eyes. “You could stomach it for me.”
“I'm busy.” Leeza crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head away.
Erica laughed, seeing how much it annoyed Alex.
“You see how the love of my life treats me?” Alex asked. He leaned over and kissed his mother on the cheek.
“Aw,” Erica said. “So sweet.”
“I know,” Leeza said, pointing at Erica. “You take Erica!”
“Um . . .” Alex looked embarrassed.
At that moment, Erica remembered the last awkward moment between them when he'd helped her put her jacket on in the office. Jonah had interrupted them, probably the only time she'd been grateful to see him.
“Do you have a date?” Leeza asked.
“Mom . . . stop,” Alex pleaded under his breath.
“No, I don't,” Erica answered.
“You don't?” Alex's eyes widened. “Oh, I . . . Well . . .”
“Then you'll go together,” Leeza said, clapping her hands together and rubbing them as if she'd solved the puzzle of the century.
“Enough, Mom,” Alex pleadingly warned.
“Why don't we agree to meet there and walk in together,” Erica suggested, hoping to at least end some of Alex's clear suffering.
He pointed at her with a satisfied smile. “There you go. Sounds good. Genius. Happy, Mom?”
“That's a solution?” she asked, rolling her eyes. “You kids these days and your dating rituals. Do what you want. What do I care?”
Erica laughed, already knowing she was going to like this woman.
 
When Michael opened the front door to his West End apartment, Billie could see the look of amazement on his face. She didn't waste the advantage the element of surprise offered her. She brushed past him quickly and entered the apartment. When she turned around to face him, he was just standing there, with his mouth open.
“Billie—”
She held up her hand. “Before you start, I need to say something.”
As he shut the door behind him, Billie turned to him. She'd been so focused on getting her frustrations out that she hadn't even realized until now that he was shirtless. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants and his feet were bare. His chest was dark and his skin smooth and muscled. It gave her pause, just taking it in.
“I'm extremely angry with you,” she said, her voice cracking throughout. She was very warm.
“Me?” He laughed. “What did I do?”
“I haven't been able to sleep since you left my apartment the other night.” Billie really doubted her resolve in the face of his chest.
She placed her purse on a console table in the hallway as an excuse to look away. His apartment was nicely designed in a modernist, bachelor style. Not a lot of details, but large pieces of furniture and art, which took up space and gave the place a masculine look.
“You know why I left,” he said.
“You didn't give me a chance to explain the situation to you,” she emphasized. “Basically, Porter has haunted me since I left him.”
Michael shook his head in disbelief. “You came over here to talk about him?”
“Ugh!” She raised her hands in fists in the air. “You are so damn frustrating. I'm trying to tell you that you're right. You were right to leave, and you were right to call me out.”
“I wasn't trying to be right,” Michael said. “I was just—”
“Can you put on a shirt?” Billie asked.
“What?” Michael looked thoroughly confused.
“You're making this impossible, standing there, looking like”—she pointed to his chest—“that.”
He laughed for a second, but then he frowned. “You're serious?”
“Yes,” she maintained. “I want to have a serious conversation with you about how I want to move on from Porter and let him go.”
Michael shook his head. “You're an odd bird, Billie.”
He started down the hallway and Billie followed. The hallway led to an open area, with consistently masculine design and dark colors set up with a living room, center stage.
“I understand why you were avoiding me,” she said.
He reached down on the sofa and grabbed a T-shirt with one hand, while reaching with the other for the remote and putting the baseball game playing on the fifty-inch HD television on mute.
“I wasn't avoiding you,” he said. “I was giving you space to figure shit out. Looks like that was a good idea.”
“I came over here to tell you,” she continued to say as he put on his Morehouse T-shirt, “that I'm doing just that. I mean, I'm ready to. But I'm not doing it because you told me to. I'm doing it because not being able to sleep at night gives a person time to think.”
“And what did you think about?” he asked, walking toward her.
He stopped about a foot from her, with an engaging, amused look on his face. With him standing this close, having the shirt on didn't seem to be doing much to help the situation.
“I'm being serious,” she warned, pointing her finger at him. “You said you wanted to be the only man on my mind that night if we made love. Well, you've been the only man on my mind ever since then.”
“Good,” he said.
“You're damn right it's good,” she asserted. “I don't deserve to be hung up on the past. I deserve a future—a better, bigger future. I asked myself, what do I want more? To battle in a boardroom with Porter or in a bedroom with you.”
“Battle?”
he asked. “Is that what you're into?”
“Battle, celebrate, whatever it is.” She reached out and clutched at his hand. “I want to do it with you, and only you. And I won't take no for an answer!”
“You won't have to.” Michael grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to him.
When his lips possessively took hers, Billie gave herself to it freely and swooned into him. His arms held her tightly as hers went up and around his neck. Immediately a flame traveled from her lips through her chest and the rest of her body. She wanted him so bad.
Billie looked him in his eyes, her voice giving away its eagerness as she asked, “You're not going to get me all heated up and call it a night again, are you?”
“I'm not that good of a tease,” he answered. “Tonight, ain't nobody going anywhere.”
He took her by the hand and led her to the sofa and they both sat down. Not wasting any time, his lips were on hers again, even more demanding this time. Billie let out a gasp as his mouth swiftly moved from a soft, moist kiss on her chin to her neck. His mouth was softly leaving molten lava wherever it touched.
Billie reached out for his T-shirt and began pulling at it. He separated from her for just a brief moment, although it seemed like forever, to let her pull it off him and toss it aside. Her hands explored his hard chest as his mouth claimed her again. She could hear him groan in response to her caress and it made her crazy.
As his hands left her waist and began unbuttoning her silk blouse, Billie began to lean back. But as she did, she felt something push against her, and her reflexes sprang into action as she quickly lifted up.
“What is it?” he asked, looking just a second from being lost in the passion.

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