The Home Court Advantage (15 page)

Jess and Lily were paying attention to the DJ at the far end of the room and didn’t see me leave but Felicity Mason was waving to me so I headed for the lobby.

“Gabrielle. Good to see you,” she said, actually looking like she might be expressing something close to an emotion.

“Felicity. Um, nice to see you too.” She looked just like she had when I met her at the Pierce Foundation fundraiser. She was dressed all in black but I could see her clothes were expensive. Her skin looked pallid, and her hair was dyed an inky color. She looked like a rich Goth chick. There was something odd in her tone. I have to tell you, though, ‘odd’ wasn’t exactly a shock when it came to Felicity or her family. Her mother reminded me of Cruella de Vil but not as warm. Her father was so nondescript that he would be easy to lose in the snow.

“You look good in black,” she said sullenly. I didn’t take it personally. Felicity said pretty much everything sullenly. “Come on. We should talk.”

“Talk? I have to tell my friends where I am then or they’ll worry,” I said, looking back toward the lounge. Braden would probably have the place raided by a SWAT team if he discovered I was missing. She ignored me, though, and turned around and headed down another hallway. Curiosity got the best of me and against my better judgment, I followed. She led me to a small private room with a couple of couches. I walked in and she closed the door behind us and sat down, waiting for me to join her.

“You and Braden are still together,” she said as she stared at me gloomily.

“We’re very happy together.” I wondered if I should explain what “happy” meant. I sat down on the couch opposite her, crossed my legs and tried to make myself as comfortable as one could be having a private tête-à-tête with Elvira, Queen of the Night in a back room at a conspiracy club.

“You should be careful. There are people who might find that threatening,” she replied in that flat-sounding voice of hers.

“Why?” I asked suspiciously, eyeing up my exit path to the door. I was starting to wonder if she might be a little nutty. I couldn’t figure out why anyone would find my love life threatening.

“Because of your fathers.”

“What are you talking about?” I turned back to her in confusion.

“There was an article in the paper …”

“What, that Kingmaker thing in the New York Times?” I interrupted, feeling impatient. I wished that she would get to whatever her point was.

“Uh, I guess,” she said, looking uncertain. “I didn’t read it. I just overheard some people talking about it. They didn’t want your dads to work together.”

“And who are these people? Give me some names.”

“I don’t really know,” she said, avoiding my eyes. “It was at the fundraiser and I didn’t get a good look.” I had a feeling that she did know but that she just wasn’t going to tell me.

“And what did these people say exactly?”

“A guy said, ‘You read that article. If Ben Ginsberg and Tyler Pierce get together it could ruin everything.’ Then another guy said, ‘We need to take her out of the picture so that they never do’. Then a woman said, ‘Leave it to me. I’ll handle it’.”

“Someone’s been sending me anonymous notes and following me around everywhere. Do you know anything about that?”

“What? No! “ She looked shocked … and then she looked scared. “I’ve got to go. I have somewhere I have to be.” She got up and quickly headed for the door. She seemed freaked out.

“Wait a minute! Did you leave the napkin?” I wanted some answers now and I stood up, preparing to go after her if necessary.

“Yes, I left it, the napkin that is. And I asked you to meet me
here
at
this
club for a very specific reason. I don’t know anything else, though, so please don’t ask me any more questions.” With that she took off out the door and by the time I got there she was gone.

Okay, that was
really
weird. I wasn’t sure that I even believed her. That story about overhearing someone at the fundraiser was just so crazy. Speaking of crazy, I headed back to the lounge and when I got there I found everybody going nuts.

“Gabrielle!” Braden called out with obvious relief. He rushed over toward me and pulled me into his arms tightly. Great, I had managed to make him worry about me more than he usually did.

“Where did you go?” Jess demanded, sounding stressed and stalking over to me with her hands on her hips. Apparently, I had worried everyone.

“Braden, honey! Air,” I gasped. He was still clutching me so hard that I was starting to feel lightheaded. He loosened his hold but he didn’t let go of me. I had a feeling that between him and my dad I was going to have to start wearing a homing beacon soon.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare everyone. I just had a very strange conversation with Felicity Mason. I saw her out in the lobby and she waved me over, then told me she wanted to talk, but she took off before I could tell anybody, so I just followed her to see what she wanted.”

“Felicity?” Cameron asked, sounding surprised. It wasn’t exactly shocking that she would be hanging out at a weird club but I guess it was kind of surprising that she would actually converse.

“Let’s sit down, okay?” I asked and we all headed back to our table. Braden kept his arm around me and held me tightly by his side. This was much more than a nestle. He had a grip on me like a vise. I quickly summarized the high points of our little chat.

“What in the hell was she talking about?” Drew asked, sounding confused.

“There was an article in the New York Times,” Mark explained. “It suggested that Gab’s dad might be powerful enough to pick the next president and that he seemed to be showing an interest in politics lately. Especially in backing politicians with views a lot like your dad’s.”

“There are so many nutty people out there,” I pointed out. “It’s
possible
somebody took that article in the Times too seriously. My dad even mentioned something like that once himself. And she said she wanted to meet me
here
for a specific reason. This place is all about conspiracies.”

“Okay, so say it’s some conspiracy theorist who’s harassing you,
who
would it threaten if a powerful businessman backed a moderate Republican for president?” Mark asked.

“Extremists,” Lily answered. “And Gabrielle’s Jewish too. You’ve heard of all of those crazy conspiracy theories about the Elders of Zion, and Rothschilds and all that garbage.”

“What, some far-right anti-Semitic hate group is investing their time trying to get Gabrielle and Braden to break up?” Adam asked sarcastically. “Don’t they have anything better to do, like bring about the Rise of the Fourth Reich?”

“Remember that she said she overhead someone talking at the fundraiser,” I reminded Lily. “It would be kind of hard to picture Senator and Mrs. Pierce inviting a Klansman or Neo-Nazi to their party. Although, I guess it’s possible it could be someone who secretly holds those views.”

“I have a thought. Maybe she’s nuts,” Cam said, looking disgusted.

“Yeah or just lying,” Mark agreed. “She could be making the whole thing up because she’s bored or jealous or something. Hell, maybe she sent you those notes herself. She admitted that she left you the napkin.”

“Well, I know one thing. She wasn’t the person I thought I saw staring at us on the night of the fire alarm, and I thought I saw that same guy following me that day when we went to the prison, Mark. I just didn’t realize it until later. And her reaction to me telling her about it looked like genuine fear. I’ve never seen this woman express an emotion before.”

“Okay, well I guess it wouldn’t hurt to share it with the police, although I’m pretty sure they’re not going to be able to do much,” Braden said. “Maybe they’ll at least question her.”

“She won’t tell them anything. In fact, she’ll probably deny that we had this conversation. She didn’t want to be involved any further; so all we have is what sounds like a warning for me to watch out for conspiracy theorists who don’t want our families to get together. Take it for what it’s worth.”

“Well, I certainly hope that you’re enjoying your courtship so far, Gabrielle,” Adam said with a smile. “Now you can add breakdancing with Cousin Derek and having private meetings with creepy Goth chicks to your list of romantic memories.”

“So have we done the Club 51 experience?” Cam asked.

“Yes,” Braden answered. “Let’s get out of here.” We headed out and called cabs to come and pick us up, making plans to meet up the next day in Bryn Mawr.

We went to my apartment to get Bruno and then started off on the two block trip back to Braden’s place. I noticed Braden looking around a lot as we walked and I had to wonder if maybe he had the same weird feeling that I had often gotten lately. Finally, something seemed to catch his eye and I saw him squint like he was trying to make something out in the distance.

“Something wrong?” I asked hesitantly.

“I think all the talk about being followed and conspiracy theorists and all that has made me paranoid. Now I have that weird feeling like somebody’s watching us but I think it’s just my imagination. I don’t see anybody.”

“I didn’t notice it before but now that you’ve mentioned it I do. That’s probably just the power of suggestion though. I’m sorry if I got us both feeling paranoid.” I glanced around us nervously. There were still plenty of people out and about even though it was late, but again, nobody seemed particularly interested in us.

“Don’t be sorry, baby. I’m glad that you’re not keeping anything from me anymore. I would rather you told me everything, no matter how strange it sounds. If something’s bothering you, I want to know about it.”

Less than two minutes later we were greeting his doorman and hopping on the elevator. Braden looked deep in thought as we headed for his apartment and he dug out his keys and unlocked the door. When Bruno scampered off to check everything out as usual, he came over and pulled me into his arms.

“So Gabrielle, time to unwind. Did we forget to wear our panties tonight?”

“No, we didn’t forget. We didn’t wear them on purpose,” I said with a naughty smile.

He gave me a cocky grin, nudged my legs apart and sank to his knees in front of me. He looked up at me as he slid his hands up my bare thighs and slid the skirt of my dress up over my hips. Then he looked down again, groaned softly, and began trailing light little kisses across my lower tummy. I felt intense heat between my legs at the same time as I felt chills that hardened my nipples, and I started reeling with all of the sensations bombarding me at once. He moved his mouth over and nipped gently at my hip, and I began urging his head lower with my hips and hands. I really was a demanding little hussy, wasn’t I?

“I thought that patience was a virtue,” he mumbled against my hyper-sensitized skin. He sounded very amused.

“Well, I’m not very virtuous either,” I replied throatily, swallowing hard.

I felt his warm breath on me right where I wanted it, and I tensed, because I anticipated the feeling of his tongue against my clit, but then he pulled back and moved down to lick my inner thigh instead. I almost beat him. He was never ever going to forget those fucking dishes!

“Gabrielle, you’re even wet down here,” he murmured as he continued licking my slick thighs. He was driving me wild. I was a bundle of shivering heat and tingling ache, reacting in a dozen different ways to what he was doing to me with that sinful tongue of his.

“Braden,” I whimpered and tried again to urge him with my hands and my hips to go where I wanted to feel that tongue the most.

“Do you want my mouth somewhere else, baby?” he purred against me.

“Yes!” I bit out. My legs were starting to feel weak.

“Tell me what you want me to do.” Oh Jesus. He was going to make me say it! Okay, was it really such a big deal? I had asked him to fuck me. I had even ordered him to fuck me. Was this really so different? No! It wasn’t!

“I want you to eat my pussy, Braden!” I demanded impatiently. There, I said it! Don’t judge me. You would have said it too.

He groaned and moved up, breathing in deeply and releasing it slowly. I felt his warm breath on me again just before I felt his hot tongue drag across my clit. I gasped and grabbed onto his head as much for support as anything else. He held my hips still as he licked me slowly up and down along my wet swollen lady bits and made appreciative “mmm” noises, like he was tasting something wonderful. I started panting as I watched him tongue me and I knew that I would never be able to watch him eat anything ever again without getting turned on. When he actually started sucking on my clit my legs began to shake and I didn’t think I could remain on my feet much longer.

“Please,” I gasped.

“Please what, baby?” he mumbled and his breath blowing against me made me even more desperate. I couldn’t think straight and I searched for something, anything …

“Please, I need some lovin’ and I need it bad.” It was all I could think of! He stopped in mid-lick.

“Okay, baby, how about if we don’t say anything that would bring any of your clients to mind during our intimate moments?” he suggested, pausing and looking up at me.