Damage Control (Dirty Money #2)

“I’m at my apartment, alone. Meet me here. We have a mammoth-sized fucking situation I can’t talk about on the phone.” I end the call, but the problem keeps growing.


By the time I’m back inside my apartment, my mind is replaying Martina’s words. The Feds will find nothing wrong inside your operations. I head to the kitchen and start a cup of coffee, trying to convince myself that Martina is using our labels, but not our facility, and that security breach last night was just a glitch. I reach for my coffee, and start doctoring it my way, while I replay Adrian’s statement again. Damn it to hell. He said “operations,” as in plural, and a man like him does not make slips of the tongue. I lean on the counter. We know for a fact that the transportation division in Boulder is moving drugs, which means Adrian’s message is he cleaned up the evidence, at least for now. I’m not comforted, not even slightly.

My gaze lifts and catches on the folder Seth had found in Emily’s desk, and I sit down on the barstool I’d claimed earlier and start reading. Emily said she felt like something was off in the paperwork, and that premise always has legs when it comes to my father. And one of the reasons my father likes hedge funds is how under regulated they are. How easily the manager of the fund—him in this case—can manipulate the money. It’s gray water that leads to a black hole that seems to be opening up on all sides of this company and my family, with Emily along for the ride. Because I have no doubt Martina chose to approach me when I was with her for a reason. It was a threat. The entire meeting was one big not-so-subtle threat.





CHAPTER NINE





EMILY


I pull the Bentley into Shane’s reserved parking spot in the private garage of the high-rise Brandon Enterprises calls home and kill the engine, having taken no joy in driving it. Not when whatever happened back there was trouble. I open the door and grab my purse, settling it on my shoulder, and step out of the car. Pausing, I check my coat pocket and my phone just to be sure my brother hasn’t called. And he hasn’t. After the desperate messages I left him, he hasn’t called and I have to be angry, otherwise I’ll start thinking of him lying in a puddle of blood. No matter what, that would destroy me.

Disappointed, I shove it back in my pocket, and shut the car, locking the doors. “Holy Rocky Balboa, are you driving the Bentley?” I turn to find Jessica rushing toward me, her spiky blond hair a tad lighter today, her black pantsuit stylish and sleek. “How did you convince him to let you drive it?” she asks, falling into step with me as we head toward the elevator. “He won’t let me drive it.”

“He shoved the keys at me and told me to take it. There was some man in a black SUV who showed up in the private part of the Four Seasons parking garage.” I punch the call button for the elevator and it opens right away. “Do you know who that was?”

“I have no idea,” she says as we step into the car, “but most likely one of Seth’s people working for Shane. Have you ever driven the Bentley before?”

“Forget the Bentley,” I snap.

“I have a point here, honey, sweetie, cranky. If you’ve never driven it and he shoved the keys at you—that tells you how much he wanted you away from that meeting.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I’ve never driven the Bentley before.”

“Then whoever it was is a problem.”

The doors open and we enter the lobby, heading toward the main elevator. “I’m really worried about this war he has with his brother.”

“There’s a lot to be worried about,” she says as we reach the elevator bank. She punches the button herself this time.

I glower at her and the car opens, thankfully empty. “Thanks for making me feel better,” I say, as she keys in the twenty-fifth floor.

“Honey, I’m not Dr. Phil and I don’t pretend to be. I’m more Judge Judy. Right to the point.”

“And kind of judgmental,” I add, thinking of her lecturing me about hurting Shane sometime back, as if I would do so on purpose.

“Just a little,” she replies, holding up two fingers, and apparently completely unapologetic, which is actually fine. It’s her knowing herself and owning it. It’s honest, like Seth last night. I’m seeing a trend. I’m the only one in his life close to him that’s lied to him. No matter my reasons, that’s going to take time to completely erase. I refocus on Jessica.

“What can I do to help him?”

She holds up her hands. “Me pushing you to dive into troubled waters will get me in hot water.”

“I’m serious. He has to win, Jessica. We both have to do what we can to help him. What does he need most to win this war?”

“What he needs most is to be back in New York practicing law. He loved it.”

“And yet he’s here,” I say, realizing now that we have even more in common than I thought. We’re both here. We’re both not practicing law. And that choice was made for both of us by our families. No wonder we connected so quickly.

“Yes. He’s here and he’s not going anywhere, so you’re right. He has to win.”

“Which means I have to keep my job at his father’s door today.”

“Why today? Is Senior more of an ass than normal?” She cringes. “I occasionally feel sorry for saying things like that since he’s dying, but then he does something new and freshly brutal and I say it again.”

“He saw Shane and I together last night getting off the private elevators at the Four Seasons. It’s pretty obvious I’d only be there for one reason.”

“So you now look like the office slut and Shane is the brother who banged the woman in front of his father’s door.”

“Can you not be you at this very moment and say stuff like that?”

“Judge Judy, honey. You’re now part of the game. You won’t get fired.”

“That’s exactly what Shane said and if that’s true, I can still use my position to help Shane. Brandon Senior is doing something weird with the hedge fund he’s putting together and I don’t know enough about this type of thing to figure it out.”

“What are you thinking?”

“Mike. The one who owns the professional basketball team and who is a huge stockholder. I don’t know if he knows it’s dirty, but I think he is, and that means he’d be on Derek’s team, not Shane’s.”

“Are you sure? Because I really wanted that man to be the father of my children.”

“I’m not sure. Maybe he doesn’t know what Senior is up to, but they have been communicating often. Jessica, what if Brandon Senior isn’t really letting Shane have a shot at the company? What if this game has already ended?”