Billionaire's Tragedy (Standalone Book) (Billionaire Bad Boy Romance) (33 page)

CHAPTER
TWENTY

Brooke

I'd
spent the afternoon
making calls to see if I could get a meeting with either Mr. Grant or Mr.
Bloomberg. Their assistants both politely told me that they were not accepting
calls from law firms at this time, but if that changed they'd be sure to let me
know. I knew these were lies, but I thanked them and then hung up cursing these
gatekeepers who were thwarting my attempts to drum up new business. At least I
still had dinner with Dax on the agenda tonight.

 
I wrapped up my business at the office by
early afternoon and headed back to my apartment to get ready for my date with
Dax. The plan for bringing new clients into the firm had now shifted this date
from pure pleasure to something that I wasn't entirely comfortable with, but
I'd promised to pull my weight and approach him. I just wasn't sure how I'd do
it, yet.

I stopped by my
favorite boutique just around the corner from the office and picked out a new
outfit for tonight's date. I'd tried on several different dresses before I
settled on a melon-colored sleeveless asymmetrical dress that hugged my curves
and showed just enough skin to be sexy without being trashy. I paid for the
dress and then headed home to shower and get ready.

As I entered the
lobby of my building, Fred called to me, "Miss Raines! Miss Raines! You've
got a delivery here. Do you want to take it or shall I have it brought
up?"

"Oh? What is
it, Fred?" I asked.

"No idea,
it's a box, but it's not too heavy," he said.

I looked down at
the packages I was carrying and said, "Can you tuck it under my arm, Fred?
I've got my hands full at the moment."

"No problem,
Miss Raines," the doorman said as he brought the long white box over and
slipped it under my arm.

"Thanks,
Fred, you're a peach!" I called as I stepped onto the elevator and pressed
the button for my floor.

Once I'd made it
inside my apartment, I set the package on the kitchen counter and began getting
ready for dinner. I ran a tub full of hot water and added a healthy squirt of
my favorite lavender bubble bath before sinking down in the warm water and
trying to relax.

My mind spun with
all of the things I was supposed to remember to do tonight, and they collided
with what my body wanted to be doing with Mr. Malone after dinner. I sunk lower
in the water as I felt my blood begin to flow hot in my veins and an aching
pressure begin to build between my legs.

There was
something dangerous about Dax Malone, but there was also a kind of
vulnerability that made him even more attractive. It didn't hurt that this was
all wrapped up in an outer package that was so unbelievably sexy. I shook my
head and made myself stop thinking of him in a sexual way. I had to focus on
finding out whether or not he'd be willing to hire our firm to represent him
now that Lydia was gone. That was my one job, and I couldn't afford to screw
this up.

I'd just finished
drying off and had wrapped my fluffy robe around me when I remembered the box
on the counter. I walked into the kitchen and smiled as I recognized it as
being from one of the places that my dad often used to send flowers to my
mother or me. I grabbed a pair of kitchen shears and cut the twine on the box
and pulled off the lid. I gasped when I saw the gorgeous arrangement lying
tucked under layers of thin tissue paper. It was a mixture of deep blue irises,
violet and purple peonies and baby blue hydrangeas. The note tucked in between
the stems read:
Looking forward to seeing
your beautiful blue eyes, and the rest of you, again tonight. - DM

I smiled and
blushed a little as I pulled the stems out of the box and carefully arranged
them in a crystal vase. So, Dax Malone was thinking about me as much as I was
thinking about him. This was a good sign, but it also made things much more
complex. We were going on a date, but I was also going on a fishing trip.

"Please just
let this be easy, just once let something be easy," I whispered as I
leaned in and inhaled the fragrant scent of the blossoms.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE

Dax

"
Damn
, you clean up good, Dax!" Kesha
whistled as I walked into the empty club after having gone home to get ready
for my date with Brooke.

"Thanks,
K," I smiled. I'd spent a long time wondering what would impress Brooke the
most before finally deciding that if I felt like I had to impress her, I was
barking up the wrong tree. I settled on a variation of my daily uniform – black
pants, black dress shirt, and a grey sport coat and, of course, my Harley
boots. I refused to wear ties or change my footwear to meet any dress codes. If
a place didn't let me in, then it was an indication that I was in the wrong
place and I left.

"She must be
a special woman," Kesha observed as she swept her eyes from head to toe.

"What makes
you say that?"

"You ditched
the leather jacket," she said with a wiseass grin. "You never ditch
that unless it's a funeral or an important chick."

"Good catch,
but she's just some chick I met last night," I said trying to maintain a
cool exterior. "She's a lawyer, though, so I thought I'd better dress it
up a bit."

"Yeah, yeah,
yeah, tell it to the judge," Kesha laughed as she checked the bottles
behind the bar against the list on her clipboard. "Hey, boss, I've noticed
that we have a slight discrepancy between what I'm counting and what the
inventory list says we're supposed to have."

"Oh, how so?
How much are you short?"

"That's the
weird thing, I'm not short," she said as she looked down at the list.
"I'm coming up with more bottles on the floor than we got in the shipment.
What the hell?"

"That can't
be right," I said. "Are you sure you accounted for the breakage? I
know we had some bottles smashed in that accident down in storage."

"No, I
counted those when it happened," she said shaking her head. "I'm gonna
do another count and see what I get. This just doesn't make any damn
sense."

"Alright,
well, I'm sure it's just a user error," I grinned as I checked my watch.

"Aww, fuck
you, man, you know I have a degree in statistics!" she laughed as she
squatted down behind the bar and started counting again.

"I'm off, let
me know what happens," I said before adding, "Oh, and K?"

"Yeah,
boss?" came the voice from behind the bar.

"I'm probably
not gonna be back here tonight," I said. "Just saying."

"Gotcha,
boss," she yelled. "I've got the place on lock down tonight!"

#

I
pulled up in front of the address Brooke had given me at precisely eight
o'clock. I parked my car in the circular drive and went inside to ask the
doorman to let Brooke know I was waiting.

"I'm sorry,
sir," he said after holding on the phone for quiet a while. "There's
no answer in Miss Raines' residence."

Just then, the
elevator doors slid open and out stepped Brooke. The doorman and I both inhaled
sharply as she crossed the lobby floor. She was wearing an orangish dress that
cut across her voluptuous body at an angle and revealed quite a bit of thigh on
one side. The dress clung to her generous curves and reminded me of why I was
so deeply attracted to full-bodied women. Her golden blond hair was loosely
curled and fell in messy waves around her face, which looked like it had been
lightly kissed by the sun. I could feel the blood rushing down between my legs
and knew that I had to quickly get a handle on the situation or I'd have some
explaining to do.

"You look
amazing, Miss Raines," the doorman called as she glided across the floor.

"Thank you,
Fred," she smiled as she drew nearer and held my gaze. "And you, Mr.
Malone? What do you think?"

"You'll
do," I said with a grin. "You clean up good, lady."

"You're not
so bad yourself," she grinned back. "Nice pants."

"I thought
you'd like these," I smiled. "You hungry?"

"Starving,"
she nodded. "I haven't eaten all day and it's been a busy one."

"Well, then
we'd better get you some food before you attack," I said offering my arm.
"Shall we?"

"Indeed, we
shall," she nodded as she bit her lip to keep from laughing and took my
arm. "See you later, Fred!"

"Have a nice
evening, Miss Raines," he called as the desk phone began ringing.

We walked out to
the drive and when I led her to the black Mercedes convertible, she let out a
low wolf whistle and said, "Whoa, you drive a nice car!"

"This? Aw,
it's nothing," I said as I opened the door and helped her into the
passenger seat. "I got it at a yard sale. Half price."

I could hear her
laughing as I walked around the car and got in. I felt the phone start
vibrating in my pocket and when I pulled it out and looked at it I saw that it
was Kesha, I looked over at Brooke and said,
" I
have to take this." She nodded, and I stepped out of the car and answered
the call. "What's up?"

"Boss, I
redid the count and found the same thing, more bottles than we had
delivered," Kesha said.

"Okay, well,
there's nothing I can do about it at the moment. So hang on to the list, and we'll
talk when I get back," I said irritated that she'd interrupted my date
with Brooke for this, but knowing that I'd told her to.

I climbed back
into the driver's seat and said, "Sorry about that. Work. You look
absolutely stunning, Brooke."

"Aw, this old
thing?" she grinned. "I got it half price in a yard sale as a
consolation prize."

It was my turn to
laugh loudly as I turned the key and started the ignition, and we were
off.
 

CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO

Brooke

We
flew up the 101
in Dax's sleek convertible laughing and talking about California living and
growing up on the south side of Los Angeles. Dax didn't give too many specifics
about his childhood, but then neither did I, so I figured we were both just
settling into getting to know each other.

He'd made
reservations at Beso on Hollywood Boulevard, and when we got there the hostess
quickly seated us in a private booth at the back of the dining area. I raised
an eyebrow at the royal treatment, but he just waved me off and laughed about
them mistaking him for someone famous.

"You must get
that a lot, then," I laughed.

"Yeah,
sometimes," he said somewhat seriously. "It's just that when you own
a club in Los Angeles, everyone wants to know you, and then you have to be
friendly and open about it on some level. It's like being a celebrity, but
without the benefits."

"I'd never
thought of it that way," I said as I scanned the menu. I really was
hungry, but I didn't want to stuff myself the way I would have if I'd been down
at the Long Island Diner on Main digging into a plate of mashed potatoes and
meatloaf. "What are you having?"

"Steak and
potatoes," he grinned. "I'm a meat man, I like thick and juicy
cuts."

"Are we still
talking about dinner?" I asked with a half grin.

"I don't
know, are we?" he said as he looked at me in a way that made my pulse
start racing. He had to be one of the sexiest men I'd ever met, and I wasn't
sure if he knew the effect he was having on me. I looked back down at my menu
and decided that I'd have steak and potatoes as well.

"I believe we
are," I smiled. "I'm going to have the same thing. Medium rare,
please."

The server came
over and poured two glasses of cabernet and Dax offered a toast, "Here's
to fortuitous meetings and tipsy women who agree to dinner."

"You're quite
a toast maker, Malone," I laughed. "Where did you learn that
skill?"

"Ahh, the
background grilling," he grinned. "You're going to dig into my
formative years and figure out where I came from and how I became who I
am."

"No, I'm just
going to figure out what's true and what's fiction," I replied as I sipped
my wine, then grinning over the edge of my glass I said, "I'm a lawyer not
a shrink."

"Brooke, you
are a piece of work," he chortled as he met my gaze and sipped from his
glass. I couldn't help but watch his lips curl around the rim of the glass and
wonder what they'd feel like pressed against my own. My heart fluttered in my
chest as I pictured his hands slipping into my hair and holding my head as he
kissed me hard and deep. "Brooke?"

"I'm sorry,
what?" I said flustered at being caught in an unplanned daydream. I was
going to have to control my baser impulses if I was going to get anywhere with
Dax.

"I was asking
where you went to law school," he said.

"Oh, I went
to UCLA for both undergrad and my J.D.," I replied.

"And?"
he asked.

"And
what?"

"And how did
you get interested in law? Are your parents lawyers?" he asked patiently.
I felt so exposed. Like he knew what effect he was having on me and was playing
it to his advantage. I needed to channel my lawyer persona and get back in the
game.

"No, my dad
is a reporter for the
Times
and my
mom is a high school math teacher at Lincoln," I said. "I'm not sure
how I got interested in the law, honestly. It just seemed like the right thing
to do. I'd always been a kid who fought for justice."

"Oh, so a
real Cesar Chavez, eh?"

"Hardly,"
I laughed. "I'm not good at the field work, I have no patience for
injustice at that level and I always end up fighting until I get myself in
trouble."

"You got in
trouble? I can't even imagine," he said.

"Oh God, I
think one of the reasons I went into law was because my dad asked me to stop
calling him to bail me out of jail," I said. "I'd go to a protest and
even when the tactic was to protest in silence, I'd end up speaking out and
sassing a police officer or a government official, and someone would eventually
identify me as the instigator and I'd get hauled away."

"So, you're
saying you have a bit of a temper?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"I wouldn't
say I have a temper, per se," I explained. "I'd say that I have a
very sensitive trigger button, and that I don't have a good poker face. My mom
always said that if I could have kept my expressions blank and my thoughts to
myself, I'd have done great things in the protest movement."

"Sensitive
trigger button, eh?" he raised and eyebrow. "Are we still talking
about injustice?"

"Very funny,
Mr. Malone," I said as I watched the server place an enormous plate of
meat and perfectly sculpted mashed potatoes down in front of me. The smell of
the perfectly charred meat made my mouth water.

"What about
you, how did you become a hugely popular club owner?" I asked as I dug
into the meal in front of me.

"I grew up
with a grandmother who owned a grocery store, so I knew what it was like to be
on call seven days a week," he said as he cut off a piece of juicy meat
and brought it to his mouth. I watched as he put the fork between his lips and
pulled the steak off of it. Again, my pulse raced and I looked back down at my
plate and nodded. "I always said that I'd own my own business, but when I
did, it would be something more glamorous and less tedious overhead."

"So, you
decided that a night club would be easier. Is it?"

"In many ways
it's
way easier than stocking a neighborhood bodega,"
he admitted as he scooped up a forkful of creamy potatoes and made quick work
of them. "It's a little more glamorous, but it's also time consuming and
not quite as sexy as you might believe."

"Oh really,
why not?" I asked as I cut into my steak and watched the juices spill onto
my plate.

"Um, well,
it's a lot of late nights and a lot of security issues to manage," he
said. "When I started Apex, I was young and inexperienced, and I really
thought it was going to be like in the movies."

"Oh wow, no
one ever talks about that side of it," I laughed out loud as he admitted
this.

"Yeah, I was
young and stupid," he grinned sheepishly. "I thought me and my
friends would be partying all night with gorgeous women and lots of high-end
booze."

"And what
happened?"

"Well, I'm
here having dinner with a gorgeous woman," he smiled. "So, there's
that."

"Thank
you," I smiled as I tried to remind myself not to get caught up in his
seduction. The lights in the restaurant had been dimmed to the point that the
single candle in the middle of the table was really the only source of light,
and made it more tempting to lean closer than if we'd been in a
more well
-lit environment.

"But it ended
up being more like constant work," he shrugged. "My friends were
disappointed that it wasn't more exciting and mad that they weren't actually
getting laid."

"And you? How
did you feel about it?"

"I did what I
had to do," he shrugged again. "I worked. I had my brother to
support, so I didn't have the option of just backing out and doing something
else. I had to make the club successful or I would have lost my initial
investment."

"Oh, you put
a lot down on the club?" I asked.

"Well, enough
to allow me to get a thirty-year mortgage," he said. "It wasn't a
lot, but enough."

"I guess I
thought that a high-end club would require a huge investment," I probed. I
knew what I was doing but I wasn't quite sure where I was headed with this line
of questioning.

"It was a
huge loan for a twenty-year-old kid, that's for sure," he said. "But
I'd learned a lot about business working with my Gran, so I knew what I could
get away with and what had to be done." Dax sensed that I was after
something and shifted into the role of someone being cross-examined. I knew I
was going to have to take it back down to flirting or I'd lose him.

"So what
you're saying is that you're the kind of guy who should be running the
country?" I asked.

"Hardly,"
he laughed. "I'm not very presidential, more like a benevolent
dictator."

"I'm sure
you're a lot better than that," I laughed with him. "So, what does
your brother do?"

"Um, he's
figuring things out," Dax said in a vague way as he reached for the wine
bottle and offered me more.

"Yes,
please," I nodded. "But don't let me do any shots tonight."

"Heaven
forbid," he smiled. I got the feeling that he didn't want to talk about
his brother, so I changed the topic.

"And what do
you do for fun?"

"Fun? What is
this fun that you speak of?" he grinned.

"Oh c'mon,
you have to do something for fun," I pushed. "Like painting pottery
or tending a Zen garden or rappelling down the sides of mountains."

"Those all
sound like wonderful hobbies, and ones I'm sure that you excel at, being the
accomplished person that you are," he said as he finished the last bite of
his steak. "But I don't do much except work. There doesn't seem to be
enough time in the day to cultivate hobbies."

"Maybe you
should think about it," I smiled.

"Are we still
talking about hobbies?" he asked as he leaned across the table and came
dangerously close to crossing my carefully constructed boundary.