Caught on Camera (5 page)

She stuck her probably touched-up nose in the air. “It’s expensive raising Jackson’s son.”

JP eyed her, hating even more than usual that he carried his father’s name. “I’d say it’s expensive raising you.”

“How dare you,” she blustered, coming up off the couch.

“How dare I?” His hands clenched at his sides as he fought the anger coursing through him, but he was unwilling to lose control for this leech. “I dare because you’ve shown up here, now wanting
my
money. And I’ll tell you, Ms. Doguard, I won’t spend my life being blackmailed for something my father did. He may have had no problem paying you off, but unfortunately for you, he died before you could come back for more.”

Beverly entered before Lexi could form a response. The look on her face said it all. The kid was a Davenport.

He took the paper and gave her a tight smile. “Thanks, Bev. When Ms. Doguard and I are finished, I’ll need some time with you, please.”

With the thought of working out a way to pay for the boy’s education through a company-sponsored scholarship, he’d need his assistant’s help to make it happen. Setting it up through the business would be less traceable back to him in the event a nosy journalist was to get insight into his finances.

“Certainly, Mr. Davenport,” Beverly muttered.

Realizing that the disappointed look in her eyes said she assumed the kid was his, he gave a quick shake of his head and murmured, “Dad’s. Not mine.”

A sigh and a nod came from Beverly. “I’ll be at my desk if you need anything more, sir.”

The room once again fell silent as the door clicked softly behind her. He stood straight, head bent, and confirmed the results. His father—who’d been part of a supposed fairy-tale marriage—had cheated on his wife with a seventeen-year-old volunteer, and hadn’t been careful enough to keep from getting the girl pregnant. White-hot rage started at the soles of his feet and moved upward, gaining speed as it traveled his body until he wanted to dig up the man’s remains and shake him as if he hadn’t been dead and buried for the last six years. He needed to pay for the pain his mother would feel if JP didn’t successfully keep this from her.

His mother may have her own faults, but she’d loved her husband with everything she had. So much so that she’d as much as turned her back on her own sons when they’d needed her the most, all for a man who wasn’t worth it in the end. She’d stood by him, supporting everything he did until the day he’d died. To find out now it had all been a lie would crush her.

No matter how frustrated JP often was with her himself, he could not let that happen.

Yet mixed in with the anger coursing through him was guilt. He lived his life as honestly and cleanly as he could, and he didn’t care to ever carry around guilt. This kid was his brother. Shouldn’t he do better than to write him off as easily as his father had?

He locked his gaze on Lexi, at the now-apprehensive look in her eyes. She no longer stood as straight and determined as before, suddenly looking as uncertain as he felt. Were they doing the right thing for the kid?

As he continued to study her, he watched her eyes flit back and forth, seemingly battling with something on her mind, before finally hardening her features. “So? What are you willing to do? I’ll need enough to get him through private school and then college. I want only the best for my son.”

“No.” JP shook his head, but there was no fire in the movement. “The investigation showed you’ve blown through most of the money he gave you, so I’d classify you as not financially mature enough to handle a similar lump sum. I’ll make arrangements to cover the best health insurance and school every year, but that’s all. You’ve already purchased a house, and you have no mortgage or bills other than utilities. As long as you get yourself a job, there’s enough remaining in your account that you’ll be fine. Let Beverly know what school to send the check to, and the money will be wired directly.”

“You can’t do that.”

He shot the woman a look that said he was done with her, and picked up the mobile phone from his desk. He had a beautiful woman with the most amazing brown eyes waiting on him. “I assure you I can, Ms. Doguard. I’ll take care of your son through college, but I won’t ever give
you
a dime. You’ve swindled enough out of my family. And if you insist on going to my mother…” He paused, silently praying she didn’t choose that option. “I guarantee you nothing about the child will be kept secret any longer. He’ll be thrust into the limelight, no different than the rest of us. Like a Davenport really lives his life.”

Looking down, he dismissed the woman and punched the button to display the text message.

The only short skirt I brought requires my five-inch stilettos. Think you can handle that?

All the blood left his brain.

A vision of Vega flashed through his mind in that instant. But it wasn’t so much her long, slim body he focused on. Instead it was that brief moment when she’d been explaining how she wasn’t made for the camera. Up until then, though she’d clearly been fighting her attraction to him, her entire being had exuded confidence and determination. But in that instant, her eyes had flickered along with her voice, and everything about her had become vulnerable.

He didn’t know the story but would bet all the money he was about to pay for his father’s kid that there was something there. A history that still haunted her.

He scratched the back of his neck as his mind churned through the possibilities. Maybe she’d had a shot in front of the camera before and blew it? Or maybe something had happened in her teen years? Teen scars were often painful to overcome.

He smirked at the irony. Scars when you were six were equally hard to overcome.

He studied the last message, as if by doing so he could see the answers.

Whatever it was, he couldn’t imagine it would have the potential to affect his public reputation if they were seen together. Chances were slim, but with the announcement just around the corner, he had to think of such things. He wondered if there was even a minute chance he should call a halt to the full-fledged pursuit he was about to open on her?

And then he almost laughed at the thought. She was the first woman who hadn’t dropped at his feet just because he’d looked her way. No way was he not chasing after that.

The sound of a throat clearing got his attention, and he looked up to find Lexi standing in front of his desk.

He sighed. “What is it, Ms. Doguard? Shouldn’t you be gone already?”

She nervously wound the fingers of one hand through the strap of her bag. “I…uh…”

“What?” he snapped, all patience gone.

“I need extra money, Mr. Davenport.”

“Well, you won’t get it.”

“You don’t understand. It’s for my son.”

“Of course it is.” He crossed the room to the door, this time to personally escort her out.

“It is,” she pleaded. “He needs tutors.”

JP opened the door and glanced into the reception area. “Ms. Brubaker, please see that Ms. Doguard finds her way out of the building.”

“Certainly.” Beverly jumped to her feet and came to Lexi, putting a firm hand around her elbow, but Lexi twisted from her grasp and backed away from both of them with a panic-stricken look.

“Please,” she begged. “Please help me. I don’t know where else to go, and I don’t know how to do this myself. He needs help. Tutors. They say he even needs hours of specialized exercises every day just to be close to normal.”

JP froze, his hand still outstretched on the doorknob.

Lexi continued, frenzied now. She shook her head from side to side, backing away until the windows stopped her. She stood there, the impressive skyline at her back, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I can’t do this by myself. And I can’t be there like he needs if I have to get a job to support us both. Please. I don’t know what else to do.”

With precise movements, JP pushed the door closed, its click flashing a twenty-four-year-old memory. They’d just moved into their house in DC, and his mother had been explaining that his grandmother was moving in and he would now spend the afternoons with his grandmother instead of her.
Plus
, she’d said,
your grandmother will work with you on special exercises to help make school more fun
. Then his mother had closed the door on the way out. On her way to go be with his father.

He and Beverly exchanged looks as if both knew exactly what the problem was. Beverly hadn’t been there that first day, but she’d soon been brought onto the family payroll as his mother’s assistant. Given that his mother had gotten regular reports on his progress, Beverly had quickly become aware how severe his dyslexia had been.

They both turned to Lexi now, still plastered against the window, hugging herself. JP was the one to speak. “What’s he been diagnosed with?”

Tears—he was pretty sure honest ones—continued to leak from the corners of her eyes. “They said dyslexia. Severe dyslexia.” She shook her head. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

He nodded then, but fought the urge to cross the room and wrap the woman in his arms. Though she was still his worst nightmare, she was also human and appeared scared to death. “I understand you’re scared, but you can do this.” He paused before continuing. “You
can
do this, Lexi. And I’ll help.”

He wanted to say he would personally help the child, since he knew exactly what he would be going through for years to come, but doing so would absolutely cast the boy and the situation into the public eye.

And end the political career his mother so wanted him to have.

“I know a school that’s great with learning disabilities,” he said. “We’ll get him in there and I’ll find the best tutors.”

Lexi sniffled and nodded, suddenly looking more like the teenager his father would have been swept away with instead of the overconfident woman who’d first walked into the room. “Thank you. And I’ll get a job, I promise. I’m not really as heartless as you think, I just messed up. I’d never had money before and I just spent too much. I’ll get a job and pay my own way. I just need help with Daniel. Please. I want him to get the best help he can.”

So did he, though he’d never met the kid in his life. “We’ll work it out. You worry about Daniel right now. But I do need one promise from you.”

She nodded, chewing on her lower lip. “What’s that?”

“When you do get that job, get one so you can be home with your son after school. He’s going to need you there.”

“T
HIS IS IT
, Miss.” The cabdriver shifted the car into neutral and turned to smile, one arm thrown across the back of the seat. His smile was innocent, but a little too wide as he took in Vega’s legs. Why she’d allowed herself to be goaded into wearing this skirt and heels was beyond her. It wasn’t like anything she’d worn in years. This outfit hugged her body in the way material was made to do, the rich silk reminding her she was soft and feminine.

She’d bought it last year when visiting her mother in Mexico. The wild blues and greens were as enticing as the water surrounding a hot Pacific island.

She pressed two twenties into the man’s hand and stepped from the cab.

“You need a ride back, you call. Ask for Ramone.”

“Sure,” she mumbled. She would need a ride back, but hopefully only after she’d secured the interview. That’s why she had on this outfit, she kept telling herself. It was also the excuse she’d given when she’d caught herself boldly text-flirting with JP earlier in the day.

Wear a skirt.

The three simple words had jolted her. In an exciting way. The man wasn’t afraid to ask for what he wanted, that was for sure.

And she’d decided her chances of securing the interview would be enhanced if she went along and wore a skirt. She’d show him he wasn’t the only one who could play games.

Though he wouldn’t get what he was really after, her heart pounded at the thought of sleeping with him. Huh…
sleep
. She shook her head, unable to imagine getting naked with the man and ever calming down enough to fall asleep. She didn’t make a habit of avoiding men, but as a rule, she tended to date the more ordinary ones. Those who blended into the crowd. To have someone the caliber of JP desiring her was quite a turn-on. One, she reminded herself, that she had to ignore. She smoothed her hands down the front of her skirt and shook her head, as if the action would clear the JP-induced fog that had taken up residence since the day before.

Drawing in a deep breath, she let it out slowly and peered up at the massive structure in front of her. Heavy wood-and-glass doors graced the entry sitting atop the wide semicircular steps. Two-story columns bordered the doors, antique brass lights centered in each. And floor-length windows enhanced the dark-red brick facade of the mansion. It quietly announced dignity and elegance.

Finally coaxing her legs to move, she put one foot in front of the other, her years-old python-skin Alexander McQueens crunching softly across the stone driveway. They’d had to stop at the gate to get buzzed in, so she was confident someone waited near the front door to usher her inside. She ascended the steps, the slim skirt climbing her thighs, and prayed she didn’t embarrass Cat with her less-than-professional attire.