Confessions After Dark (11 page)

When his father continued to glare at him, Alex shifted uncomfortably in his chair and ran a careless hand through his already unruly hair.

“Whitney is her friend, Alex. It’s only natural for Allison to ask about her.”

During the family get-together, Allison took him aside to admonish him for not telling her that his relationship with Whitney had ended. Alex had been hungover from a night of feeling sorry for himself, liquor giving him the strength to resist calling or going to Angel, and he didn’t take it well.

“Whitney is a money-grubbing little bitch, Allison.”

“She said you dumped her without an explanation!”

“That’s not true. I told her that she’s a money-grubbing little bitch,” he said with a distracted smirk, humor replacing his irritation. “I’m sure she failed to mention that she called in to a live radio show about how horrible I was to her? If I wasn’t already out, that would have sealed the deal.”

“Shut up! She did what?”

“Oh, yes, she did, Allison. I’m not surprised she didn’t mention it. She never was any good at accepting responsibility for things.”

“You mean that new show that’s getting so much buzz? Which was it? At Darian’s station. Umm,” she pondered.

“Angel After Dark,” he grumbled, pouring himself another drink and holding the glass out to her. “Want one?”

Allison shook her head. “No, thanks. I know her. I mean, I spoke with her.”

Alex’s curiosity was piqued and he turned, leaning back against the bar while Allison sat opposite him in one of the wingback chairs. Tension tightened the muscles in his neck and increased the throbbing in his head, but the ache eased by just being able to talk about it. “About what?”

“She has connections to a band I wanted to hire for the benefit.”

Alex relaxed slightly. “Oh. When was this? Have you met her?”

“Two or three weeks ago, I think. No, I haven’t seen her, except for the shots promoting the show, but you know how those things are. It probably isn’t her anyway.”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Why?” They were close and Allison’s eyes narrowed. Alex was out of sorts, quiet, introspective, and not himself. He looked tired, like he’d rolled out of bed and threw on the first thing he found, and more telling, he didn’t argue when their mother asked personal questions. He simply left the room. “Do you know her? Do you know what she told Whitney?”

He contemplated how much to say. He hadn’t confided in anyone, not even D. “She told her to get her shit together and walk away,” he answered quietly. He took a long pull on his drink and the ice clinked on the side of the fine crystal glass. “Whitney didn’t have the balls to follow through, and I called the show the next week and told my side of the story. Whitney, no doubt, painted a biased picture. Angel, however, had her own ideas on
men like me
. User, womanizer; you know the classic stereotype. She had no problem showing her distaste.”

“Oh, my God. I can only imagine. I’m sure you were ruthless in defense of your position.” Allison’s eyes sparkled as she teased him. “And it’s Angel, is it?”

“Yes. Angel. Don’t worry, Allison, she gives as good as she gets.”

Understanding dawned on his sister’s face. “Oh, I see.”

“Do you?”

“I know you, Alex. Nothing gets your juices flowing like a good challenge.”

He nodded and moved into the room. “It may have started out that way.”

“Tell me, Alex.”

“She’s… not like anyone I’ve ever met. She’s very provocative. I wanted her like I’ve never wanted anyone. Like—I couldn’t help myself.”

“Apparently, she couldn’t either.”

Alex stared into his glass, examining the ice as if it were a precious diamond. He shrugged.

“So Whitney should hang up any hope for reconciliation, I see.”

“Please, Allison.” His reluctant eyes met hers. “You’ve spoken to Angel, then?”

“Yes, but it was all business. I thought I’d hear back from her by now.”

“Do you think you will?”

“Most likely. The band isn’t booked and she’ll be instrumental in securing them.”

“Do you know what her connection is?”

“Yes. She fronted the band a few years ago.”

“I believe she was involved with one of her bandmates for a time.”

“It seems you have a lot of information, Alex.”

“Does she know you’re my sister?”

“No. I mean I don’t know how she would. I had no reason to mention you and our last names are different.”

“Can you keep it that way?”

“Why?”

“We’re taking a break. I’m trying to give her just enough space to miss me.”

“Was this your decision or hers?”

“It took me completely by surprise. I thought things were going well. Better than well.”

“Wow.” Allison’s eyebrow lifted. “You’ve always been the one to walk. How are you handling it?”

He shrugged, ignoring the gravity of her statement. “I’m a little off-balance, Allison, but I’m still me.”

“Is there anything else?” Alex asked, shaking himself out of his thoughts.

Charles set his napkin on the table with purpose. “It strikes me as strange that you are keeping this deal a secret.”

Alex smoothed down his tie. “Do you know who Mark Swanson is?”

“I’ve heard the name, but no.”

“He’s a small-time hood who runs a chain of dry cleaners in the Greater Chicago Area. He’s been charged with raping his stepdaughter. However, it looks unlikely he’ll be convicted.”

“It’s news, so what? It seems an unlikely business opportunity. Maybe, if the man was getting convicted and the business was being sold off cheap. But, this?” Charles frowned.

Alex sighed heavily. “He’s guilty, but he’s able to pass the psychological tests, even the polygraph.”

“That doesn’t explain your involvement,” his father insisted.

“The psychologist profiling the case is a friend. The bastard is threatening her.”

“Just a friend?”

“No.”

“I see. So you think that justifies using company resources?”

Alex shook his head. “Not exactly, but it’s something I need to do, Dad.”

Charles’s eyes studied his son. He was dressed impeccably, as always, but he looked exhausted, his face drawn, his eyes bloodshot. He had new hope his son would find new faith in love. It was perplexing to Charles that Alex would be so cynical when his parents shared such a close relationship. He nodded. “Okay, son.”

Alex was thankful his father let the subject drop and the conversation continued on to less personal matters. The situation he shared with Angel felt too intimate to share, like he’d be betraying some sacred bond. Cole knew by necessity, and Darian knew they were seeing each other, but nothing more. Other than that, and the short mention to Allison, he kept it close to the cuff.

“Alex, you haven’t mentioned it in a few weeks, but we’re still on track with that London acquisition, aren’t we?”

Alex flushed. “It’s sort of taken a back burner, but I’ll work on it this week.”

“Did you forget we’re supposed to close the deal in two weeks? You told me a month ago it had to be done by the middle of this month.”

“No, I didn’t forget,” he lied. “I’ll take care of it.”

“I expect you to be there to finalize everything.”

He didn’t feel like arguing, but going to England was the last thing Alex wanted to do. If the issues with Angel weren’t resolved before then, he knew it would make him nuts. He didn’t relish being so far away when everything was a clusterfuck with an uncertain outcome. Even with Bancroft and Cole watching her around the clock, his gut told him to stay close.

As father and son left the upscale restaurant, Alex reached for his phone. Cole was supposed to check in every couple of hours, and he’d been tied up with his father for more than three. Although he hated to admit it to himself, he was also hoping to see a message from Angel. He chastised himself for being such a pussy and quickly connected to his voicemail.

Hi, Alex. She’s at her office, and it’s been quiet. Nothing to report
. The message was short and cryptic.

“Excuse me. Alexander Avery, isn’t it?”

The two men paused, and Alex’s eyes narrowed on the man attached to the voice. His back stiffened and something close to hatred slithered over his skin with agonizing slowness, making the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand up.

“It is.” As if it needed confirmation. Alex turned to his father and extended his hand. “Dad, thanks for lunch. I’ll call you later.”

Charles glanced between the other two men, the tension between them more than obvious, and it was unlike Alex not to introduce him. He nodded and shook his son’s hand. “Sure.”

Alex buttoned the jacket of the black Gucci suit, a stark contrast to the white shirt and blood red of the silk tie he wore. “What can I do for you, Mr. Swanson?”

“Oh, so you know who I am?”

Alex’s lips thinned and he huffed. “Your reputation precedes you,” he replied.

“As does yours.”

“No doubt. This chitchat is nice, but I have obligations to attend to, so if you’ll excuse me?” Alex dismissed the other man but he put up a hand to stop him.

“Mr. Avery, we have things to discuss.”

Alex contemplated his next words carefully. “Really. Like what?” he asked dryly, wondering if the prick had the balls to mention Angel. The notion made his blood boil, and he’d be hard pressed to keep the control necessary not to rip the other man to shreds.

“I’m not stupid. I know what you’re doing.”

Alex felt his lip twitch, although he felt less than amused. “Then I guess that makes us even.” He turned and began walking out of the restaurant.

“Mr. Avery! We’re both good at negotiation. I’m sure we can come to a mutually agreeable solution.”

Alex turned and looked steadily at the man he’d come to hate. “I don’t negotiate with fuckers like you, and I doubt you could keep up, in any case. You may have missed it, but I’m not doing this because of your stellar business practices.”

“You don’t know who you’re dealing with. You’d be better served—”

Alex laughed harshly, interrupting abruptly. “I know exactly who I’m dealing with.
Exactly
.” His tone was harder than iron.

“You understand what I mean. Back off of my business! You don’t need more money.”

Did this asshole really think it was about money?

“If you knew
who you were dealing with
, you’d know I always finish what I start, and I make it a point to know my adversaries inside and out before taking them on. You’re a little greasier than most I deal with, I admit, but I have more resources and more connections than you dream about. Plus, I always win. If you were an honorable man, you could go about your meaningless life of dirty laundry, and I wouldn’t give a shit.” Alex’s chest tightened despite his outwardly calm demeanor. “But, since you’re slime, you’ll be lucky if you have enough left for a garage sale when I’m finished.”

“You’re not as infallible as you think you are, Avery; a fact which was illuminated while you were in Hawaii, I believe.” The older man watched the younger one’s muscles coil under the expensive suit, and satisfaction at Alex’s discomfort caused a wicked smile pulling his lips away from his teeth. “Dr. Hemming is less, shall we say, evasive than you… much more easily
penetrated
.” His emphasis on the word had Alex’s blood boiling. “So alluring and full of fire, hmm? It makes her vulnerable and even more attractive.”

Alex’s hands curled into tight fists. It was all he could do not to beat the smug look off Mark Swanson’s oily face. In three quick strides, he was a foot away from the other man. The scent of smoke that clung heavily on the other man’s breath and clothes assaulted him.

“Your so-called
connections
don’t give a fuck about you. You’re a bug, an annoyance that needs to be squashed. Nothing more. As for Angeline, touch her and I won’t be responsible for my actions. If you hurt her, I swear to God, you will beg for death.”

Alex turned, inhaling deeply at the same time, and stalked away from his enemy. His chest hurt, he was hotter than hell, and his skin was burning. He’d never experienced hate to the degree he felt it now. Right there in the middle of the restaurant, Alex wanted to kill Mark Swanson with his bare hands and damn the consequences.

*****

“Huh! Huh!” Angel punched, and then attacked the bag with a round kick, followed by more punches. “Huh! Arrrrggggghhhhh!” She was out of breath; sweat plastered the tendrils that had worked their way out of her ponytail to the sides of her head. She could feel the moisture soaking through her sports bra and around the top of the yoga pants she was wearing. “Huh!” She kicked the bag again.

“Angel, I think that’s enough!” Becca let go of the bag and moved away. “You almost knocked me down. I think you’ve still got your groove on.”

Angel picked up a towel off the mat next to her and slung it around her neck, using the ends to wipe the perspiration off of her face. Her chest was still heaving as she shot Becca a disgusted look, took a long pull on her water bottle, and began walking off toward the locker room. “I sucked, Becca!” she said indignantly. “It’s been too long since I practiced. Don’t fucking placate me.”

Her friend sighed. Angel had been quiet all night, and when she did open her mouth, she complained about everything. “Look, Angel, you’re not as good as you were. Okay? But you’re already being a bitch tonight, so why would I want to make it worse, huh?” she asked loudly, her words bouncing off the tile walls of the locker room.

Angel kicked off her shoes and threw them in her locker and they landed with a loud thud. “I don’t have time for this shit. I have to take a shower and go to the station.”

“What the hell’s your problem? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re upset because Alex let you dump him. You didn’t bargain for that, did you?” She sat down on the wooden bench and watched Angel angrily strip her clothes off and wrap a towel around her. “You have no one to blame but yourself.”