Damage Control (Dirty Money #2)

“Don’t you think she might want to pick some of it out herself?”

“I’m sure she would, but it will be a long time before Emily freely spends my money and I’m not leaving her with nothing waiting for that day to come. Use my Black Card.”

“The no-credit-limit card. Okay, well I’ll get some of my favorite sales ladies to help me make this happen today. Tell me again why we never dated?”

“Because you like your men submissive and I like my women with less snark.”

“I do not like my men submissive, but I get it. We’d kill each other.” She settles her purse back on her shoulder when her phone rings. She digs it from her purse and glances at the number. “Brody’s manager.” She answers and has a short exchange before covering the phone. “He has time this evening or in the morning.”

“I’m glad he has time to talk about seven figures,” I say. “But his time isn’t the time I need. It’s Brody’s.”

“They haven’t been able to reach him.”

Not the answer I’d hoped for, but at least his estranged wife is handled. “Tell them I have time when Brody has time.”

She nods and has a short exchange before ending the call. “They’re trying to reach him. Are you going to tell me what that’s about?”

“No.”

“Okay. I’ll ask again later. Do you need a ride to the office?”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“All right then.” She turns and heads for the hallway, but pauses, and turns to face me. “I like Emily.”

“Then we have that in common.”

“I once told Emily that if she hurts you, I’d hurt her, but now I know she’s devoted to you. And now I’m going to say this to you: Don’t hurt her and don’t let your family hurt her.” She doesn’t wait for an answer. She walks away, her footsteps sounding until the door opens and closes. I sit there a moment, staring after her, my gaze landing on the paperwork she’d brought me from Emily. I pull it toward me but I don’t open it. My father tested Emily today, and she failed him, but came through for me. She protected me and I am protecting her, but it doesn’t stop Jessica’s words from clawing at my mind: Don’t let your family hurt her. My family that connected the dots between us and the Martina cartel. Between Emily and Adrian Martina.





CHAPTER ELEVEN





EMILY


It’s nearly one o’clock, and I’m juggling travel arrangements, phone calls, and questions I can’t answer about the board meeting, when Jessica sets a slice of pizza from the joint downstairs in front of me. “Eat.”

“I don’t have time.”

“Make time. My orders.”

“Is Shane here?” I ask, as both the security guard and the call from my brother still nag at me.

“He’s going to be soon.”

“Can you tell him I need to talk to him?”

“Of course.”

“What about Seth? Is he here?”

“I have no idea. That man checks in with no one but Shane. Why? What in the world do you need Seth for?”

My intercom buzzes and Brandon Senior barks, “Get Fitzgerald back on the line.”

“Right away,” I say, refocusing on Jessica. “Thanks for the pizza and I’m back to work.”

She leans on the desk. “Do you need me to find Shane or Seth for you?”

“No,” I say. “It’s nothing important.” I hope. I think. “I can talk to Shane this evening.”

“Everything’s okay?”

“Yes. Fine. Please don’t bother them.” My brow furrows. “Why are you being so motherly? It doesn’t suit you.”

“Motherly?” She pushes off the desk, a frown on her face. “I have never been motherly. I am not that old. Eat your damn pizza.” She turns and walks away, and I laugh, grabbing the phone to get Fitzgerald on the line, but not before deciding I’ll have to delve into Jessica’s mothering syndrome over lunch sometime soon.

Another few calls and I finally stuff a bite of pizza in my mouth, and at that very moment, Derek walks around the corner, an older version of Shane in a black suit paired with a red tie. He’s standing over me before I can blink and swallow, watching as I choke and reach for a bottle of water, never saying a word, and I hate that he will think he’s rattled me. I hate it so much. Finally, I’m no longer struggling and find my voice.

“Sorry. I swallowed wrong.”

“Tell him I’m here.”

I pick up the phone and buzz Brandon Senior. “Derek is here,” I say.

“I don’t have time for his nonsense right now. Get rid of him.” He hacks in my ear for several seconds. “Get me more of that damn tea you’re always shoving down my throat.”

“Right away,” I say, quite enjoying the opportunity to send Derek away. I hang up and say, “It’s a bad time. He’s about to be in a big meeting.”

“Is that what he said to you?”

I paraphrase, though nothing would make me happier than to repeat Senior’s exact words. “He said it’s not a good time.”

His eyes glint hard, lingering on me and he abruptly moves. Before I know what is happening, he’s opening his father’s door. The door shuts again, but not before Senior’s angry spewing of profanity reaches my ears. I sigh, resigned to the chastising I will get over this, like I can control Derek. I need to go get the man his tea. I stand up and stick both of my phones back in my waistband, and head for the lobby.

A thought hits me. I dial Jessica. “Can I get Seth’s phone number?”

“Seth again? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” I repeat, removing my phone from my waistband. “And I’m in a hurry. Senior wants tea, and considering Derek just barged into his office after he told me to get rid of him, I want to be back here when whatever is happening in there is over.”

“How very Derek of Derek. It’s not even like it’s unexpected. It’s just him, but I get it. Senior will blame you for the way he made his son. Here’s Seth’s number. Are you ready?”

I pull up a new contact on my phone. “Ready.” She gives me the number and I key it into my contacts. “Thanks.”

“Emily—”

“Mother Jessica. It’s nothing. I promise.”

She sighs. “Fine. How about bringing me a coffee so I have an excuse to nag you again?”

“What do you want?”

“Vanilla latte, nonfat.”

“You got it.”

We end the call, and I head through the lobby, and make my way to the elevator. Once inside, I dial Seth, not even sure he’ll answer, but he does.

“Emily. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” I say, “and I hope you don’t mind Jessica giving me your number.”

“I should have given it to you myself. Did you get that call we talked about?”

“Yes, I did and—”

“I’ll be there in ten to fifteen minutes. I’ll find you.”