Quinn’s eyebrows rose to his forehead. “It’s like that? It’s not Alexandra Kane, is it?”
Roman sat down behind his desk, saying nothing.
“It is.” Quinn chuckled, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. “I can’t believe you’re keeping this up. Does she know why you want the house?”
Roman rubbed his hands over his forehead, not wanting to explain the situation to his brother. If he told his brother, it would mean his cousin Rachel, or God forbid, his aunt would find out, and there was no way he was going to be answering their questions. How do you explain a relationship you don’t understand yourself? “Look, it’s complicated. I haven’t told her why I want the house, but I don’t think she’d care anyway. She’s not attached to it, and she can ensure it’s sold to me. Just know she’s mine, and she’s off limits.” They’d been in a relationship for a few weeks already, he’d seen her multiple times, and he couldn’t help but wonder how different their relationship would be if they met in a different set of circumstances. If he didn’t hate her father.
“Damn, dude, calm your tits. Nobody’s trying to take her from you. I’m pointing out you’re different with her, and I’m not sure it’s for the best, given the fact you plan to bulldoze her family’s old vacation home. I bet you haven’t even told her how you feel about her father.”
“How about you let me handle my woman?”
“Your woman? Roman, tell me you aren’t developing feelings for this woman.”
“Not likely. Now, do you have something for me, or you wanna keep gossiping like a little bitch?”
“I came by because I figured you’d want to know what was going on with the Arrows’ divorce. You better be prepared; Gerald is coming after you.”
***
“I can’t believe I fell asleep again,” Alexandra chastised herself over an hour later while she quickly pulled on her clothes. She grabbed the phone in the wall and called Roman, respecting his wishes that he escort her out of the club. He ran a pretty tight ship so there was no reason for her to need him so she could leave, but he told her he took care of his own. Telling her he was sending an escort because he was busy, she opened the door to an attractive man who resembled Roman.
“Hello.” She smiled. This must be the brother who worked with Roman. Alexandra knew Marco, the head of security, who’d worked those two nights she’d come in, but had yet to be introduced to the other Valentine.
“I’m Quinn,” he told her, smiling charmingly. Damn. Quinn had the kind of smile that made a woman want to hand over her panties, ready for whatever debauchery he placed on the menu.
“Alexandra.” He nodded, making small talk while they walked toward the entrance. She liked Quinn, he was easy to talk to, even though they were just making small talk.
Marco held out his fist when she walked to the door, and she returned the fist bump. They’d started the ritual when she’d first started coming on in. “How are you doing tonight?”
“Just living the dream.”
“I bet.” He chuckled, pointing at Quinn. “Make sure you keep an eye on this one. He’s slicker than his brother.”
“Trust me, I have my hands full with one of them. I don’t need a second.”
Quinn looked affronted. “I’m standing right here. No need for you two to ply me with compliments.”
Marco jerked his finger toward her, talking to Quinn. “Don’t worry, she won’t.”
“And on that note…” She hugged Marco, waving to Quinn and hoping to get out of there. Quinn didn’t take the hint. Following her onto the sidewalk, clearly he shared more with his brother other than looks.
“I can see why my brother’s so enamored with you,” he mused.
“I could say the same for him,” she answered honestly. They parted ways, and she practically skipped to her car riding high on Quinn’s mini seal of approval.
11
“Alexandra.” Wesley stopped her while she wished the single-serve coffee maker would magically work faster, but all she got were the splashes and sounds of the old machine sputtering out her choice.
“Can I help you, Wesley?” She smiled despite her irritation at running into him.
“No.” He turned his back on her, gathering his coffee cup from the sink so he could use it next. She reminded herself she needed his approval if she wanted to make partner. Snatching her cup as soon as it finished, she grabbed a couple packets of sugar and creamer. She would doctor it in her office, away from him. She could see freedom, the hallway where Wesley would be a distant memory when he spoke. “Follow the money.”
She turned back. “Excuse me?” Wesley rarely spoke to her, let alone gave her cryptic messages while she made coffee.
“Follow the money,” he repeated. He combed through the current coffee selections as though he wasn’t babbling on like a disoriented person. “I never understood these things, why people have to doctor their coffee with these frou-frou flavors. I like mine strong and black.” He made sure she was still paying attention before continuing. “When you start adding a bunch of crap to it, the coffee tends to get weaker. I don’t let my assistants make my coffee, either. Too many hands in the pot, things can get messy fast. You understand what I’m saying?” His steel-gray eyes narrowed, trying to communicate with his own fucked-up version of a coffee analogy.
“Yeah.” She nodded, going back to her office, trying to process what he said. She sat down, writing on her notepad everything he said as best she could so she’d have it for future reference. She checked her cell phone, seeing the text from Roman about seeing her that night.
Alexandra: I’ll think about it. I have a lot of work.
Roman: And I’ll think about smacking that ass again.
Alexandra: Is that a threat? Because you’re not scaring me. I enjoyed it.
Roman: Did you think it was a threat? It was a promise. I know it leaves you soaking and wanting me. You asked me to get you laid, and I can’t if you’re avoiding me.
Alexandra: I’m not avoiding you. I do have a lot of work.
Roman: Dinner at 7 then? You gotta eat, and I thought we decided we needed to be seen.
And there we have it, she thought, knowing him well enough to tell he wasn’t going to be persuaded to do something else. She’d made an agreement, had agreed to be seen with him in case someone mentioned she spent time at the club. Nothing more, nothing less. She could work when they were done with dinner.
Sending him a confirmation text, stressing it was only dinner, she put him out of her mind as she combed through the file Karen had gathered from the prosecution with the information about Corey’s case. She went through everything, but they didn’t have much either, save for the identification. She studied the paper, where Corey’s picture was circled with the date and time of the identification. Something was off, but she couldn’t figure out what. She stared at the picture for several minutes but nothing came to her.
“Knock, knock.” Her mother peeked her head through her office door. “How’s my baby?” Alexandra hopped up to hug her; she’d forgotten they had an appointment for lunch today. They’d made it two weeks before, but with everything going on, it had slipped her mind. And didn’t that beat all? There was a time when she’d never forget her mother, but her life had started to resemble a snowball. The kind that starts off small and goes barreling down the hill, gathering more and more things as it goes until it threatens to cause actual harm. She was in its sights, with her work and everything going on with Roman, and she needed to take a break.
“She’s great.” Alexandra kissed her, smelling the faint scent of flowers, her mother’s signature scent. Whenever Alexandra was near her, she found herself barreled back into her childhood when she used to play on her mother’s vanity while her mom watched on with pride. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready.” She grabbed her purse and the coffee she had no time to drink anyway so she could throw it out. Spotting the picture of her father, she asked the question on her mind. “Hey, Mom, do you know Franklin Williams?”