Deceived (Burned Book 2) Page 5

  I relaxed and released a stiff breath as he walked away. I forced my focus to Sarah. My eyes wanted to follow him out of the restaurant.

  "What was that about?" Sarah pounced before she had even settled into his spot.

  "What?" I scrunched up my face in feigned confusion. "He saw me eating alone and thought he'd drum up some business. Seemed like a nice enough guy."

  "We already have someone in the House."

  "I know that. But it didn't hurt to be polite. You should try it sometime."

  She sneered as she pulled a compact from her purse. Checking to make sure she was still perfect, I assumed.

  "He kept me from getting bored while I waited for you." I took a sip of my fresh cup of tea. "The service here is fantastic. Thank you for suggesting it."

  "It wasn't my suggestion." She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "It was the new clerk. Jimmy Studebaker or something."

  "Steuber," I supplied, smiling into my cup.

  "Of course."

  I turned the conversation back to Sarah's favorite topic—Sarah. "So how's the case?"

  Her smirk widened, the whiteness of her teeth emphasized by her blood-red lipstick. It wasn't that Sarah lacked beauty, she was stunning. A classic beauty, one that was painted and crafted to perfection. Her blonde hair fell in waves of bouncy curls down her back. The smooth creaminess of her completion was flawless. Her blue eyes held a weighty intelligence that was only overshadowed by her ruthless scheming. While I was ambitious, she was merciless and power-hungry. That savage drive held a core of unyielding steel, one that cruelly tainted her beauty.

  She smirked, laying a napkin on her lap as her order arrived. Droning on and on about the case, she promptly forgot all about Zak.

  It wasn't nearly as easy for me.

  Chapter Five

  I fought the sheets, struggling to smack the alarm blaring in my ear from my nightstand.

  "Does that thing have to be set to ear-splitting levels?" Alejandro mumbled into his pillow.

  "I refuse to oversleep." I threw myself back into my plush bed. "You like my promptness."

  Alejandro slid his arms around me, pulling me into the cool cradle of his body. It had been weeks since he'd stayed the night. We didn't have a lot of time to enjoy each other; his free time was valuable and sparse.

  The early hour glared at me like a younger sister, mocking me with its cheery rays and false promises. My brain sputtered to life.

  "Shit." I squirmed in his arms, desperate to get going. His arms tightened around me instead.

  "Don't go yet," he said into my neck. His breath sent shivers down my body.

  "I have to," I groaned. "I have court this morning."

  "No. Stay in bed." Growling, he pulled me under him. His cocoa eyes pierced mine. "I'm your boss. I demand it."

  "Court!" I yelled while I attempted to dodge his kisses. "I'm defending your company in court today, Alejandro."

  "Have Sarah take over today."

  Sarah would like that too much.

  "I can't do that." I laughed as his tongue slipped into my navel, fingers tickling my sides. "It wouldn't look good if the lead counsel didn't show on the first day. I have jury selection."

  I moaned as his kisses finally hit their mark, heating my blood. Any rational argument fled.

  Court could wait.

  I swept into the courtroom and rested my briefcase on the defense table. The prosecutor, a stuffy old man who sweated resentment, gave me the stink-eye over his coffee as I slid into my chair.

  I'd made it on time, but I had to skip a shower to do it. Disgusted, I resisted the urge to smell myself hoping the deodorant and body lotion was enough to cover up the scent of morning sex.

  My good mood plummeted when the judge's chamber door opened. If dealing with the jackass prosecutor wasn't enough, the presiding judge was another old-school hack that was better suited for the golf course than the bench. Both should have retired eons ago. They were relics, misogynistic bastards from a time when women were better seen than heard.

  I stifled a sigh. This was going to be a long trial.

  I preferred not to examine the tactics used in a lot of Alejandro's dealings. My job was to keep the damage to a minimum and settle out of court if possible. I'd failed in this instance, so it was my responsibility to get us out of this unscathed. I was thankful the prosecution didn't know even half of what I knew.

  After hours of picking apart people's lives, we settled on a jury. I stacked my files in my Gucci briefcase, grateful opening statements were on Monday. That gave me the weekend to sink my teeth into this case and tear it apart.

  The faster I could get away from the opposing counsel and judge the better. They had made their position clear—women should be chained to a stove popping out babies rather than defending multi-billion dollar corporations.

  Milkshake by Kelis exploded from my purse and I scrambled to find the phone buried in its depths. Heat gathered in my face as the prosecutor turned to frown at me, but I couldn't help the smile that broke free.

  Daniel. He was always changing my ring tones.

  "What up, dawg?" he greeted after I stabbed a key to answer.

  I never knew what I was in for with him.

  "I was in court, Daniel," I whisper-yelled at him.

  "Sorry?"

  I rolled my eyes, stalking past the condemning glares of the prosecutor. "You're not sorry. Stop changing my goddamn ring tones."

  "You're right. I'm not sorry." He laughed. "You know you should always check to make sure your phone's on silent. Could be embarrassing. You know what happens to people who ass-ume, right?" He emphasized the ass to ensure I knew what he meant.

  I humphed, but he was right. I should have checked the damn thing.

  "What a bunch of dicks." I arrived at my Jag and slid into the seat. "This case is going to be hell."

  "Want to grab a drink? I'll call Tanya."

  I toyed with the idea. "What about Kyra?"

  His sigh, heavy and thick, dragged my mood further. "You're in the clear. She's with Spencer, her partner, somewhere on a case."

  "I'll see you at The Harmony in twenty minutes." I cut the call and threw the phone in the passenger seat, ignoring the pressure that gathered in my chest. I hated disappointing him. My sweet friend asked so little of me, but I just couldn't shake the creepy feeling that woman gave me when she was around.

  The Harmony wasn't the best place to get shitfaced. The elegant restaurant was filled with the upper-crust of Tampa society, a veritable who's-who of the elite. I had a regular table waiting at my request.

  Tanya had a head start when I arrived, a half finished margarita and an untouched martini resting in front of her.

  "Thank God." I slipped into the booth and toed off my Jimmy Choos.

  "Long day?" Tanya asked over the salted rim, her eyes bright. I hoped this was her first, but I was pretty sure she'd started with a few shots.

  "I'm so glad you are amused by my pain and suffering." I downed half the martini before she could reply. Her eyes widened when I barely missed slamming my drink down like I was downing shots at a frat party. Before I could start lamenting on my day, Daniel slid in next to me. He bumped me over with his hip and flagged our server.

  "We aren't at a baseball game. You don't need to wave him over like he's a peanut vendor," I hissed.

  "You're one to talk." He cocked his eyebrow and waited for a comeback.

  He was right. It was a good thing Alejandro owned the restaurant, we'd have been kicked out ages ago.

  Daniel ordered a Jack and Coke, and leaned back, arms stretching over the back of the seat. His grin spread over his face, barely able to contain the joy in his eyes. He vibrated with it. Satisfaction burst from his skin.

  "Uh-oh. Looks like our boy here got some last night." Tanya offered up as an explanation.

  "What? Like that's a rare thing?" I glanced at them both, my lips twisted. "He sleeps around more than you do, Tanya."

  "Hey!" She struggled to lo
ok offended, but couldn't pull it off. "I don't sleep around anymore. I'm exclusive."

  "You might be…" I mumbled, loud enough for only Daniel to hear. I didn't want to get her started whining about her relationship problems.

  "Yes, as a matter of fact, I did get some last night." His smug grin, made my stomach turn. I could guess who that some was with. "Well, more than just some."

  "Spill!" Tanya demanded. She finished the remainder of her icy drink and ordered another one when our waiter, Patrick, brought his drink.

  "She's totally the one for me." He announced. The silence that followed was deafening. He never dated—he treated sex like a horizontal handshake—and he'd found the one? Something was fishy.

  "Great sex doesn't mean you've found love." Tanya's heavy voice was that of experience. She jumped from one shithead to another. Her most recent mistake: allowing the jackass she was dating to move in with her when he got kicked out of his apartment.

  "You haven't met The One yet, Tanya. You just know." The way he said it gave more importance to the words than they merited. The One—like it was some sort of title.

  Pinpricks of unease danced up my spine, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to rise. "You can't be serious."

  "As a funeral."

  I rolled my eyes at his predictable comeback. "You do not meet The One," I wiggled my fingers in the air, making quotations around the phrase, "in a club. And you do not sleep with her on the first date. To remind you, that is what is referred to as hooking up."

  "How would you know?" His brows drew low, a spark of irritation igniting in his eyes. "Have you met The One, yet?" He copied my quotations, his head tilted as he waited for my answer. No matter what it was, I was screwed. He didn't think my relationship with Alejandro was healthy—like he'd know what that was.

  I didn't intend to give him the argument he was waiting for, so like any good attorney I deflected.

  "We aren't talking about us, we're talking about you."

  "Exactly." Smiling, he crossed his arms and leaned back.

  The conversation was making me dizzy, like I'd been spun around to play Pin the Tail on the Jackass.

  "What's her name, anyway?" Tanya asked as she stared in rapt fascination, her eyes glazed.

  I stiffened, bracing myself.

  "Kyra."

  Even prepared, her name in that context was still jarring. My heart raced, I could hear the thundering beat in my ears. It drowned part of their continued banter.

  "That's a good start. You know her name. That's more than you usually bother with."

  "Hey!" Now it was his turn to act offended. "I usually get their names."

  We both stared at him, eyebrows raised and waiting.

  "Okay, maybe not always. But they don't bother with mine either. She did." His shit-eating grin returned. "She liked my special skills."

  Tanya's loud laughter couldn't be contained. She threw her head back and it spilled from her lips in waves. Her antics were contagious; the tight band that gripped my chest loosened. My laughter echoed hers and we both struggled for control. I wiped the tears with my napkin, trying to keep the damage to my makeup at a minimum.

  Looking around the table at my friends, the echo of our laughter still hanging in the air, my heart warmed. The bands of tension that had wrapped themselves around my neck and back were gone.

  "After the shit day I had, I so needed this," I announced.

  "Ah, but wait." Daniel raised his glass for a toast. "The night has only begun." A devilish twinkle flashed in his eyes as his lips twisted into a smile.

  This boy was trouble. I never understood his desire to push the line, to balance on the precipice. I worried that Kyra was going to weigh him down, like an anchor tied to his neck with rope, impossible to untangle.

  I hoped that he wasn't making the biggest mistake of his life.

  Chapter Six

  While I fought to accept her, I seemed to be the only one. The ease with which Kyra fit into the House, in the Family, was unsettling. She strode the halls of Alejandro's building as if she belonged there. Every time I turned around she was in his office.

  Training, he called it. I was afraid to ask.

  Her watchful glare followed me; her haunting eyes traced my movements. The way they shifted from brown to gold made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. So did the thing that to move behind them and peeked out from behind the golden orbs. She reminded me of the parts of Alejandro that I tried to forget.

  The busier and more focused he was on her, the more I was left floundering. When she wasn't with Alejandro, she was with Daniel. They were both so focused on her, I was beginning to feel like an afterthought.

  Daniel was relentless in his quest to make us friends. I avoided answering him, skirting any direct contact other than what was necessary. Until he cornered me, his pleading eyes—wide and shiny—begged me to try. He didn't use the words, he didn't need to. Those damned eyes of his were enough. The conversation was forgettable, but the purpose accomplished: I invited Kyra to my condo. At least on my turf I was able to control the situation. I seemed to have less and less control over my life as the days progressed.

  Her place was several blocks down the bay. She'd refused Alejandro's offer of a condo in the building, preferring her own space.

  Kyra fought to hold on to every ounce of independence she had: her car, her condo, her business. I applauded her efforts, but wondered how long she'd last with that attitude. Impending disaster clung to her like a spandex dress. I didn't want to be anywhere near her when it imploded.

  Our only common interest—besides Daniel—seemed to be shoes. I started there. I decided to pass on a pair of Louboutins that I no longer wore, one that would look stunning and fit her style. I was sure the red peekaboo pumps would be a more than acceptable peace offering.

  She arrived mere minutes after the delivery of drinks and hors d'oeuvres had arrived. Her eyebrows shot up when she caught sight of the display.

  "My meals are part of the package deal." I shrugged. After four years I'd grown accustomed to the perks. "Which is great because I hate to cook." That was an understatement. After struggling day in and day out to provide edible meals for my whiny siblings, kitchens caused me to break out in hives.

  We sat on the balcony, the view of the Bay spread out before us. The setting sun bounced off the water leaving a trail of orange and yellow that sparkled off the calm waters.

  "You know," I picked up my glass of chardonnay, "years ago I actually had time to enjoy living so close to the coast. I worked hard, but I made time to play in the sand or at least study outside." I allowed my head to fall back against the back of my chair. My hair cascaded behind me in a waterfall of red. For all the wealth I had accumulated, I didn't do much more than work. "I actually saw the sun, not just quick glimpses as it rose or set."

  Her laughter was rich and husky, heavy with a self-depreciating understanding. "I know what you mean." She snatched a bacon-wrapped scallop, unraveling the bacon. Mesmerized, I watched her separate each delicacy, dissecting them before popping them in her mouth and licking the grease from her fingers. "I used to rise with the sun every freaking day. I lived on a ranch for years. I guess you could say I grew up there."

  "With horses and cows and everything?" My eyes went wide with shock. I raked her from head to toe. Tight black jeans hugged every dip and valley. A fitted black concert tee announced her love of some band called Hollywood Undead. Black hair spiked up in all directions. I couldn't decide if she purposefully styled it like that or she just didn't bother fixing it when she woke. I couldn't picture her in overalls and flannel, shoveling manure on a ranch.

  "Cattle." Her eyes twinkled with mirth, knowing exactly what was running through my head. "It was actually a pretty perfect place to grow up. Too perfect." Gaze distant, she was lost in the memories. The tightness that held her features loosened. She looked lost, vulnerable. Seconds later her features hardened as she shook off the grip of her past. "It wasn't a good f
it for me. I-I messed up a lot of things back home and I—"

  Her sigh was weighted with stories of misspent youth. Ones that I itched to ask about. What had happened to make her leave, if it was too perfect? What did that mean anyway? I refused to ask, unwilling to risk exposing my own mistakes.

  "—that kind of life wasn't for me anyway." A healthy drink of wine gave her the courage to continue. "I'm sure Daniel has mentioned the situation with Gavin."

  "He has." I fought to keep the annoyance from my voice. Stiffening my posture, I held back the biting words that wanted to escape.

  "I don't usually explain myself to anyone," she snapped, "but I know how much you care for Daniel." She drew in a deep breath and her voice softened. "I care about Daniel, but Gavin …"

  I bit my lip, using every ounce of patience I possessed to wait out her pause and allow her to find the words.

  "Gavin's family took me in when I was a kid. They basically raised me." She scoffed, the sound dripping with self-loathing. "Or they tried to. It was too late for me by then." Her frown deepened and she toyed with the quiches on her plate. I waited for her to mutilate them as well, but she finally popped them all in her mouth whole.

  "They were a great family. No one could ask for better, but I was already too old and jaded to appreciate what they had to offer. I took off the moment the ink was dry on my diploma."

  "I guess Gavin wasn't happy about that?"

  Her eyes swing to mine, the pain in their depths was surprising. She seemed to have it all together, while in reality she was just good at hiding behind masks.

  She dragged out the words. "He was my fiancé."

  "Eighteen's a little young to get married."

  "It wasn't uncommon." She waved off my concern. "I wanted it to be real. I meant it. But things unraveled with blinding speed."