Love After All (22 page)

“You're right,” he conceded.

“But if it's any help, as a child I didn't ever remember anyone mentioning a woman. But she, your mother, would have been around before I was even born.”

“Rachel, my mother's name was Rachel Love,” Jackson said. “She died six months ago.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It was cancer,” he said. “She was a good woman.”

Samantha nodded. “I'm sure she was.”

“She didn't steal any money,” he said adamantly. Samantha nodded again. Jackson looked into her eyes. “She didn't.”

“She was from back East, New York, I think. I don't know for sure…as I said, she never talked much about her past or her family, so everything is sketchy. I think I remember her talking about a sister, but that was a long time ago, I wouldn't even know where to begin to look. I don't even have a name or address or anything else.”

“She moved here to L.A. for a reason, obviously.”

“I don't know. I do know that she met my father here.”

“Your father, what does he do?”

“You have no idea, do you?”

“About what?” she looked at him blankly. “I met your sister and she seems nice. I suppose the rest of your family can't be that bad.”

“My father is CEO of Daley Communications. We own over eighty-five radio stations across the country. My grandfather founded and built the business more than sixty years ago. It's grown from there into a broadcasting empire. When he died he gave the reins to my mother, not my father.”

“Your mother? What about his own son?” Jackson didn't answer. “Bet that went over well,” she said dryly.

“You can only imagine. Later, when my mother died, she left me the majority of her shares.”

“Passed over twice.”

“Yeah.”

“So much for the perfect family portrait.”

“At the moment the company has its hands in a lot of baskets. Money is moving around fast, too fast. We're hemorrhaging and completely vulnerable to takeover.”

“And the perfect mark,” she said.

“Apparently,” Jackson said.

“If your father is the CEO, doesn't he realize this?”

“I'm sure he does. My father and I don't see eye to eye. He's contesting my mother's will, and since Cooperman Enterprises has always wanted Daley Communications this is the perfect time to make a play. My father has a deal on the table now that would join the two companies.”

“With George Cooperman recently indicted for tax evasion and fraud, why would you connect the two companies?”

“Good question.”

“Is your father trying to save her company or lose it?”

“To tell you the truth, I don't really know.”

“Is there anything you can do to stop him?” she asked.

“Not at the moment. But in a week I hope to be voted in as CEO. Unfortunately, my father's deal might go through before then. Daley Communications is not run by a board of directors. The essential decisions are made by three—my father, my sister and me. If George Cooperman joins with my father in this cable partnership, he'll automatically get on the board. He can easily buy out my father's shares and literally take over the company or at least permanently damage it, if not even worse.”

“This just keeps getting better and better, an internal power struggle and a hungry suitor. It's no wonder you don't have con men lined up for miles. But the question now is, how is Eric involved with your father?”

“He's negotiating the cable company buy.”

“What cable company buy?”

“That's how George is buying his way in. He has a small cable company on the market and my father has put a bid in for it.”

“What about money, didn't you say that your company was cutting back on expenditures?”

“My guess is that my father's offering majority stock as collateral. He's also using a professional mediator to handle the negotiation details. My sister mentioned a financier acting as a middleman since my father doesn't trust Cooperman completely.”

“That would probably be Eric and it sounds like he's doing the bogus escrow scam.”

“You mean these cons actually have formal names?”

“The three-card monte, the fiddle game, the pigeon drop, pig in a poke, the wire, the pyramid, glasses drop and about a dozen others, not to mention the modern variations.”

Jackson shook his head. “So what's the bogus escrow?”

“The con goes after men in financial trouble, offering to help for a small percentage of the end result or a small finder's fee. As a third party he acts like a kind of escrow service where there's a business deal and the two parties don't trust each other. The third party holds funds in escrow until both parties are satisfied with the deal. Usually when an escrow goes through, the mediator takes a percentage and everyone's happy. In this case Eric will probably convince them to invest the money for a better return and then just claim that the investment tanked and keep it all.”

“Yeah, I get the whole escrow thing—what's the after-midnight part?” he asked citing her terminology.

“If Eric is acting as the third party and your father and this other man, Cooperman, are as mistrustful as you say, then he's probably made each man a lucrative side offer to con the other man. But in reality he'll probably be conning both and taking everything.”

“That's great. I guess there's no honor among thieves.”

“The con wouldn't work if a mark doesn't want something for nothing and there's always an out, a moment when he decides to walk away or not. Remember, the con only works if you're dealing with men who are already greedy. Sorry,” she said, realizing that she was referring to his father as one of the marks.

“No, I guess you're right,” he said.

“Greed is the key. You can't con someone who isn't interested in getting something for nothing,” she said, subtly pointing out that his father wasn't exactly an innocent in all this.

“How can I stop this?”

“You can't, but maybe with a little help
we
can. You see, the ultimate con is to scam a con man, and that's what we need to do—scam Eric, George and Lincoln before they con your father.”

“How? They're holding all the cards.”

“Not all of them. They don't know that we know the game. And as my father always said, to con a hunter you need to know his game.”

“So we need to see this scam from every direction.”

She smiled. “Exactly. Spoken like a true professional. But first we need information. The key is to know as much as possible, who the mark is, their weaknesses and their strengths and of course what they ultimately want.”

“Eric wants the money and George wants my company.”

“What about Lincoln, what does he want?” she asked.

“Good question, he's a wild card. So I say we confront George directly,” Jackson said. “A frontal attack.”

“He'll just deny everything and without proof you have nothing. No, the trick is to let him think that he's getting exactly what he wants, then beat him at his own game.”

“That won't be easy, will it?”

“It never is, but we have one very important advantage,” she said, smiling. “George doesn't know that we know. And even if Lincoln is setting us up, we can be one step ahead. The question is, where would he keep this information?”

“His office, his company is the most secure place on the planet. Seeing him is like trying to get into Fort Knox.”

“Okay, we need to get to Cooperman, then.”

“That might be difficult. I'm not exactly his favorite person at the moment,” he said. She looked at him, questioning. “It's a personal matter, but I'll see what I can do.”

“In the meantime, I'll see if I can figure out the disc Lincoln gave us and then do some online research. Cooperman's just been all over the news with this boardroom scandal and the grand jury testimony. It shouldn't be too hard to get information on him. But finding Eric is going to be difficult.”

“Why do we need him?”

“He's the weak link. We need to know exactly what he's planning.”

“He's not going to just tell you, even if we do find him.”

She smiled. “Actually, he would. Eric has an enormous ego. The art of the con is to play to greed. Ego is his Achilles' heel and paranoia is his weakness. He'll talk. The hard thing will be to shut him up afterward. These original documents that Eric has about your company, could they damage you personally?”

“No, but they could embarrass the family. They're more about my mother's past, her criminal record and so on.”

“Do you have any idea how Eric might have gotten them in the first place?”

“No, as a matter of fact, I didn't even think about it. I was so focused on getting them back that I never questioned how he got them.”

“Maybe you should. Who would be hurt more if they were released to the public?”

“It would be an embarrassment to the family and the company, but if I were to choose a person, I'd say my mother, or better yet her memory. One of the documents shows that she had been paying blackmail money for over twenty years. Someone found out about her police record and held it over her head.”

“I doubt it was Eric or Cooperman,” Samantha said.

“What about Inspector Lincoln?”

“Sounds possible.”

They paused a moment to let the numerous questions and answers settle in their minds. “Can we really do this?” Jackson asked.

“We don't have a choice. Lincoln's right about one thing, neither one of us can do it alone.”

“So you'll stay?” he asked.

“Yes, until this is finished.”

“Good. One more question,” Jackson said, then paused. “About Eric. Did you love him?”

“No,” she said without qualms or hesitation.

“Did he love you?”

“I doubt it.”

“There's a chance you'll see him again, soon.”

“Probably.”

“And you can handle that?” he asked.

She snickered. “Definitely,” she said firmly.

“Yet you were together?” he asked nonjudgmentally.

“Yes, we were,” she said, then paused, feeling the need to justify her actions. “People are together for a number of reasons. You and I are obvious proof of that. Love had nothing to do with Eric and me.”

He smiled wide, enjoying a private thought. The possibility of love, once seeming so foreign, was now an interesting prospect. He was attracted to Samantha, that much was obvious, and he enjoyed being with her, but love, he considered temptingly, there were still too many things he didn't know about her. So how do you love someone and not completely trust them?

“What?” she asked, seeing his expression.

“Nothing, just considering.”

She looked at him, puzzled by the remark.

He smiled, completely assured. “One more thing. There's a dinner party this evening that I need to attend. Would you join me?”

T
all, arching trees, building-high hedges and mammoth gate entrances lined the nearly restricted path. The golden community was security gated and set aside from the usual Hollywood prestige and grandeur. Seemingly forbidden to most, the narrow streets twisted and turned in an erratic way, jolting and jarring in different directions at any given moment. At times a mass of luxury cars lined the tapered sideways, evidence of a party or celebration. Then the streets would be bare, devoid of life and hidden in secrecy.

“So, where exactly are we?”

“Somewhere between Bel-Air and Beverly Hills.”

“So this is the infamous Beverly Hills,” Samantha said, impressed by the splendor of the glamorous terrain. “Who would have thought that it's actually hills?” she joked.

Jackson smiled and glanced over to her as he drove farther up into the quiet hills of Los Angeles.

Easily maneuvering the winding curves, Jackson still wasn't sure what he was doing—all he knew was that he wanted to be doing it with Samantha. They had come to an arrangement of sorts. And for the time being, it was fine with him.

After their long talk that afternoon they went shopping. Granted, it was his first experience shopping with a woman, but it was delightful and he couldn't remember having so much fun. They'd gone into numerous boutiques looking for just the right look, not too sexy and not too conservative. The final outcome consisted of several new outfits, from business wear to formal dining wear and several in between.

This evening she'd chosen to wear his favorite. It looked breathtaking on her and the moment he saw her coming down the stairs with the complete ensemble he was captivated. He walked over, took her hand and kissed her lovingly. “You look sensational, breathtaking.”

“Thank you, Jackson, you don't look so bad yourself,” she said, smiling at the perfect way his suit fit his body. Walking down the stairs a moment earlier she very nearly tripped when she spotted him at the landing waiting for her. His dark suit and crisp white shirt with a light-colored tie made him look debonair and just too sexy.

They each spared a second to take a breath, and then she held a gold necklace out to him. She stepped back and turned around, revealing the dramatic sight of her bare back plunging to a glimpse of the tiny tattoo he loved so well. She grasped the loosely curled hair resting on her shoulders and held it up, exposing her neck for his convenience.

He stood motionless for an instant, awed by the sight of her. Then he stepped in and slipped the necklace over her head, holding the two ends to clasp together. After two fumbled and failed attempts, he focused and finally succeeded in fastening the necklace around her neck.

“You take my breath away,” he whispered in quiet desperation as she released her hair and he placed his hands on her shoulders, nudging her back to lean closer to his body. She closed her eyes as she instantly felt the hardness of his arousal. His hands lowered to her small waist. Her head was bowed low as she turned to face him again.

“Do you have any idea what you've done to me, Samantha Lee Taylor?”

She smiled, looking up at him, expecting him to say something trivial to lighten the mood. But seeing the intense emotion in his eyes, she stopped smiling. She knew the look; it was the same reflecting in her mirror. But she also knew that she needed to be the one to stay the course. “Jackson, when this is over…” she began.

“No, I don't want to hear that.”

“You have to, we have to. This was a fantasy, remember? We made this whole thing up.”

“This isn't a fantasy anymore and you know it. That ended a long time ago, a lifetime ago. There's something more and I can't just drop it. When we're together everything feels so right. You feel it, I feel it.”

“Jackson, it's just a physical thing, we're attracted to each other and when we're together our bodies—” She stopped, realizing that she couldn't finish her statement.

“No, don't trivialize this. I can see it in your eyes. When we look at each other it's real. You've been running all your life, Sammy. Stop now. Don't run away from me, too.”

Emotion overtook her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tight to her body. His arms wrapped around her and they stood embracing for what seemed like forever. Her mind swirled dizzyingly as his words seeped into her heart. He was right but she couldn't listen. Hearing any more would definitely have weakened her resistance. She'd waited all her life to feel this way, but she knew what she had to do. She stepped back and looked up into his heavenly eyes.

He licked his suddenly dry lips and the simple action sent a bolt of fire through her body, then into her stomach. She reached up and kissed him with all the passion she felt building inside. Tongues teased and intertwined as the breathless embrace demanded more. The hardness of his body pressed to hers, adding to the fire that needed no fuel.

Always just below the surface, they knew the desire would erupt. Through playful jesting while shopping, to quiet talks on the deck and wanton glances across the room, it was always there pulling them to one conclusion.

The kiss faded to a gentleness of touch as she rested her head on his chest and he held her close. “Not the best timing,” she said.

“Probably not,” he agreed.

“We'd better leave,” she said as she leaned away and looked up at him. He nodded, took a deep breath and straightened the golden necklace around her neck, letting the back of his hand brush the soft swell of her breasts. She secured her purse and turned to the door. Jackson watched a second as the thought of losing her when this was over cut through his heart.

Then he steeled himself. Assuredly, that wasn't going to happen, he promised himself, then smiled as the idea of marriage came to mind. He wanted Samantha in his life forever, and no one, not even she, was going to end this.

“Hey, planet earth to Jackson, you okay over there?” Samantha asked, still admiring the array of houses seemingly planted among the lush greenery of Beverly Hills.

“Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sorry, what did you ask me?” Jackson said as the thoughts faded.

“So where is this restaurant we're going to for dinner?” she asked as they rounded a corner and passed through a securitygated street. Private and remote, it was tucked neatly away behind a mass of overgrown hedges. Jackson nodded at the guard on duty as he continued driving.

“It's not a restaurant. Dinner's at my father's home.”

“You didn't mention that this was dinner at the family abode. Any suggestions on how we're going to explain my presence to your father?” Samantha asked.

“I'll tell him you're my friend.”

“What kind of friend?” she asked curiously, playfully.

“A very close friend,” he added.

“Will he buy that?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yes, and since you've already met Jessie, the evening ought to be a breeze. It'll just be the four of us, unless Jessie decides to bring Paul along.”

“Who's Paul, her husband?”

“No, he's a friend, although he'd love to be married to Jess. As a matter of fact, he's proposed about a half-dozen times already that I know of.”

“And she turns him down?”

He nodded.

“Good for her,” Samantha said decisively.

“Why's that? Don't tell me that you've got something against marriage.”

“No, marriage is fine, just not for everyone.”

“Is it for you?” he asked.

“I'm not sure yet, I'll let you know when I find out. I do know that I'm not the stand-by-her-man kind of woman. My mother did that all her life and she was left with heartache and pain. That's not me. What about you, ever think about taking the walk down the aisle?”

“The thought had crossed my mind at one point,” he said, but didn't mention that it crossed his mind only after she had entered his life.

Samantha didn't respond. Somehow, she just didn't feel like the levity of joking anymore. The thought of Jackson considering marriage with another woman stilled her to silence. She knew, of course, that what they had was transitory at best, but still, the thought of him being with someone else didn't sit well.

For the first time in her life she was falling in love and it was with someone she could never have. Their worlds were miles apart and nothing could change that. She could pretend for a while, her father had given her that talent, but when it came to the real thing, she knew she'd never measure up.

A sadness stirred in her. Looking away, she saw a blur of green as the car zipped through the silent streets. She knew that she would walk away after all this was over. That was the plan. Correct the wrong, then return to her life. Jackson would return to his life and everything would be as it should, except she knew that it wouldn't. She'd gotten too close to Jackson, an obvious amateur mistake.

He had gotten through and she was falling for him and every time she kissed him she was falling deeper and deeper. But her heart wouldn't be denied. Her feelings were real, but she knew that she had to walk away from him for his sake.

“This little fantasy of ours took an unexpected turn,” Jackson said, interrupting her thoughts as if they were his own.

“Yeah, I guess it did.”

“Regrets?” he asked, glancing over at her.

“No, you?” she said quickly.

“Never.”

“Good, I'm glad.” She went silent again until he took a final turn. “This is your home?” she asked as they approached massive iron security gates and a forbidding entrance surrounded by ivy-covered stone walls.

“No,” he said, “this is my father's home. I live at the beach.” He pushed a button on the front panel of his car and the gates opened automatically.

“You know what I mean. You grew up here?”

“Yes, but it's not as impressive as you might think.”

“Wow, not exactly the hood, is it?”

“My family's affluent, you already knew that.”

“Obviously,” she said as he drove his car up the path leading to the stately home, then parked alongside a Bentley, a Benz and two BMWs and his father's midnight-blue Enzo Ferrari. Then he spotted his sister's car and smiled. Thankfully she was already here, as she was the designated referee whenever he and his father were in the same room.

As soon as he got out, his cell phone rang. He answered. “Yeah,” he said seeing that it was his sister calling. “I'm right outside,” he said.

“Dad's got company in case you haven't already noticed by the mini car showroom as you drove up,” Jessie said quietly into the receiver.

“I noticed,” Jackson said, not at all surprised that his father would have one of his young ladies with him for the evening. “Another one of his family dinners I assume.”

“Even better than that. Tonight he's entertaining George Cooperman, his latest wife Darla, and of course Shauna and his latest conquest, Pamela Frasier, and a few others. Their deal went through, we're celebrating!” Jessie added.

“Thanks for the warning,” Jackson said, then closed the phone ending the conversation.

He walked around to the passenger side of the car and opened the door, helping Samantha out of the car. She noticed his annoyed expression instantly. “What's up?”

“My father has invited a few new friends to his usual family dinner,” Jackson said tightly.

“Okay,” she said, not getting his point.

“Looks like you'll be meeting George Cooperman sooner than you thought. He's here,” Jackson said through gritted teeth.

Samantha smiled, understanding his statement. “In that case, this ought to be a very interesting evening,” she said, then paused, seeing Jackson's fierce expression. She touched his arm. “Jackson, wait.” He stopped and turned to her. “Jefferson once told me that acting like you don't have a clue is sometimes the hardest part of the game. Remember, George can't know that we know what he's up to or it's over before it begins. We have to pretend nothing has happened, like we don't know anything, or else he's already won.”

He nodded tensely.

“Jackson, if you find yourself getting angry, walk away or find me. If he doesn't buy this, it's over.”

He nodded again, this time more accepting. Then they climbed the steps and walked inside. She felt a familiar rush. The game was about to begin.

Marcus met them as they entered the oversize foyer. His eyes nearly bulged from the sockets at seeing Jackson walk in with Samantha on his arm.

Dressed in the designer chiffon halter-style dress, high heels and a glamorous hairstyle, she looked like a movie star straight off the red carpet.

“Dad,” Jackson said, shaking his hand, “what's the celebration?”

“Patience, you'll see,” Marcus said smugly, his eyes flaring with hardened intensity. “Afterwards we need to talk.” Then his attention turned. Ignoring his son, his focus was solely on Samantha. “I didn't realize you were bringing someone this evening.”