Mr. & Mrs. Wright: A BWWM Romance (Wright Brothers Series Book 2) Read online

  On the other hand, the Richard Wright fiasco was sending the Republican side of the election into a tailspin. He had been a questionable lead candidate to begin with, only rising to the top because the common folk for some reason seemed to love him. It remained to be seen whether or not they’d still feel the love considering recent developments.

  London let her father do all the schmoozing, which is what he was best at, while she handled the details of getting his staff up to date on their new campaign strategy. Details were her specialty.

  He had brought only his new senior level staff with him and she corralled them into a conference room while her father went to work on Davis’ ego.

  Frankly, after the roller coaster the man and his damn campaign had sent the firm on she could have done without him altogether. But business was business and this was her job.

  * * *

  “I like it,” Davis said, nodding his head. “A focus on my experience and ties to the community.”

  “Exactly,” Frank said.

  “Perfect then,” Dion said, getting up. It was a signal to everyone in the room to follow suit, the meeting being officially adjourned.

  London followed everyone out of the conference room, happy that she could put a check mark next to this item of today’s agenda.

  “London,” Dion said coming up to her, “I wondered if I could have a word in private with you.”

  She was a little caught off guard, but quickly recovered. Perhaps he wanted to flush out the details of their new strategy with her. Or maybe he wanted to address the fact that she was dating the son of his political opponent. She had been prepared for this moment.

  “Certainly,” she said, putting on a fake smile. “Let’s go to my office,” she suggested.

  “Perfect,” he said, giving that politician’s smile that had earned him his current seat in the New York House of Representatives.

  Once in her office, she closed the door to give them privacy. It was mostly for her benefit, in case he did want to address the Michael Wright issue. She was in no way ashamed of her relationship with Michael, but as Dion’s attorney, she did feel the need to calm any doubts he might have about her ability to represent him objectively. Obviously, this was best done without the prying ears of the office listening in.

  Before she could even begin, he was on her.

  “I heard about you and this Michael Wright?” he said, his face blatantly displaying the disapproval he obviously felt about this.

  She took a step back, her intuition setting off alarms in her head. “Yes, I’m dating Michael Wright,” she began, “but I want to assure you that—”

  He closed the distance between them. “Why in the world would an intelligent, beautiful, black woman like yourself be associated with any member of the Wright family? With a face and body—not to mention brains—like yours, you could do so much better.”

  “Excuse me?” she said, blinking in surprise. The statement, and his shocking invasion of her personal space, was so overtly bold, she was too stunned to immediately put him in his place. As it was, she stood there, staring dumbly, wondering if she had just heard what she had.

  “When I heard that fool Clayton dumped you, I knew you were ready for a real man,” Dion said, “a man with real power. Someone who was going places.”

  London snapped out of her shock. “Hold it right there, Representative Davis,” she said using his formal address to remind him of who he was. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you should stop right now before you do something both of us will regret.”

  “What is there to regret?” he said, giving her a confident smirk. “I’m going places, London. It’s one thing to have silly, little bobble-headed legislative aides fawning over me. But a man in power requires a certain…level of equality. Someone who can challenge him.”

  What the hell? Was this man actually admitting to fooling around with his aides?

  London resorted to actually pushing him back away from her. He had already crossed the line, now she was at the point where actual fear was settling in.

  “You need to stop right now, Davis,” she scolded. “If you don’t leave my office right now, I swear I’ll scream.”

  “This is what I mean,” he said, ignoring her warning tone. “I’ll bet you’re just as feisty in bed—”

  The slap came before he could finish.

  “Get the hell out of my office!” she shouted, not caring if anyone could hear through the closed door.

  That was apparently enough to set him straight. He blinked in surprise, putting a hand to the cheek she had just caused a sting in.

  “How dare you?” he growled.

  “How dare you!” she spat. “Get out of my office, now!”

  “You have no idea who you’re dealing with, little girl,” he threatened.

  “I think I have a pretty good idea,” she said, giving him a look of contempt. “In fact, I think that this firm is done ‘dealing’ with you. You’ll have to find new representation elsewhere.”

  She made a wide berth around him as she opened the door and waited until he finally made the move to walk out behind her.

  She quickly made her way to the reception area where her father was cordially entertaining the rest of Davis’ staff. He turned when he heard the two of them headed toward him, his smile faltering when he saw the irate look on London’s face.

  Dion was the first to speak up. “Frank, I regret to inform you that our campaign will no longer be needing the services of the Jefferson law firm.

  “Dion!” Frank sputtered, looking anxiously between London and Dion.

  “I think we should go back to Representative Davis from now on,” Dion said.

  It was the last straw for London. “For as long as that title lasts,” she challenged.

  Both her father and his staff looked at her in shock. Harriet, their receptionist squeaked in surprise.

  The murderous look Davis shot her only made her that much more satisfied.

  Dion turned back to her father. “You can consider whatever friendship we’ve had severed at this point, Frank.” With that he strode out of the Jefferson, Jefferson, Jefferson & Associates offices…and hopefully out of their lives for good as far as London was concerned.

  * * *

  “He did what?” Frank exclaimed. “Disgraceful! Contemptible!”

  “Calm down, Daddy,” London soothed. “I’m a big girl. Do you think this is the first time a client has hit on me?”

  The words left a bitter taste in her mouth. Yes, it was true that Dion was hardly the first client of theirs to hit on her. He was, however, the first to go quite this far. Most of the time it was simple come-ons, or remarks about her attractiveness, or (stupidly) hints at something other than money as payment for services rendered. Dion had seriously crossed the line.

  But London focused on what was important. She knew if she didn’t put up a nonchalant front for her father, he’d make it his mission to go after Dion. What she wanted more than anything was for the man to be out of their lives once and for all. So she sucked it up.

  “I’m fine, Daddy,” she assured him. “Really.”

  “Yes, but Dion…” he shook his head with furious wonder.

  “—is a sleaze,” she finished for him. “I had him pegged from the beginning. At least now it’s come to light. The only bad part about this, based on what he said, is that I’m pretty sure some of his staff are getting the same treatment.”

  “It’s just a shame we can’t come forward with this. Curse that damn attorney-client privilege!”

  “Honestly, Daddy,” London sighed. “I’m not sure I would anyway. What would be the point? It would just be my word against his. We’ve done the best thing we could for this firm and, especially for me.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing Daddy. I know you’re pissed off right now. Frankly, so am I. All the more reason to move on.”

  Frank didn’t look as though he was anywhere close to moving on, but
he finally sighed and nodded his head.

  Chapter 7

  “Alex!” Brianna Nolton, sole heiress to the Nolton manufacturing empire, squealed as she teetered over in heels that were absurdly high. Her father made his fortune supplying the tangible product for all forms of media from paper for magazines to the plastic used to create CDs. Brianna benefited from that by living a life of complete leisure, with the more than occasional bout of partying thrown in for good measure.

  At 5’9” with platform heels to boot, she nearly reached Alex’s 6’2” height as she threw her arms around him with an overly familiar squeeze.

  Alex took in the baby t-shirt and postage-stamp sized skirt that showed off the trademark twig-like long legs Brianna was well known for. He wondered if she would ever be known for anything else.

  With her slick blonde hair down to her mid-back and cool patrician face, all cheekbones and blue eyes, she was attractive by any subjective standard. It was completely irrelevant to Alex’s preferred tastes.

  They had agreed to meet at a Starbucks in West Hollywood. Alex had already been sitting there with his black coffee, staring out the window and thinking about this plan. Already the doubt had been creeping in. Her high-pitched greeting had done nothing to abate it.

  “Long time, no see party boy!” she said, kissing him on the cheek.

  “Yeah, my days of partying are pretty much over,” he said, extracting himself from her embrace. “Now I’m strictly on the business side of things.”

  “So I heard,” she said giving him an amused yet speculative look. “Why in the world would you bother with a job? Don’t you have a trust fund?”

  “I don’t know; maybe to have some purpose in life?” he laughed looking at her incredulously. “Partying gets old after a while, Brianna.”

  “I guess I haven’t reached that threshold yet,” she laughed. “And L.A. is such a different scene from New York. In fact, I think I’m just getting started here. Are you telling me you don’t miss it? The way we used to stay out until morning, getting wasted on Jack Daniels and Hennessey, snorting—”

  “No,” Alex said interrupting her. The look on his face shut her up. “Those days are over for me. Seriously.

  “You’re 25 years old,” he chided. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do when you’re too old to get VIP treatment? Maybe you should think about starting a clothing line or something?”

  Brianna frowned a bit, the wind going out of her confidently breezy air. “I don’t know,” she shrugged, looking out the window and sipping from her cup. “I guess move back to New York, be a socialite, work for charity, yadda, yadda, yadda.”

  “I suppose that’s something,” he sighed. “At any rate, thanks for offering to come to the opening of Ménage. It always helps to have celebrities involved. How do you even know Trina and Troy?”

  She slid her eyes back to him, the smile coming back to her face now that they were back in her element. “Well, Trina and I go back a ways,” she said, waving it off. “It was when I had a tiny role in that movie, Terrorville, before my little scene hit the cutting room floor. It was probably for the best; just me running around screaming in my underwear before my head gets chopped off. Daddy nearly had a conniption when he found out.”

  Alex laughed. “I’ll bet.”

  Brianna laughed as well. “The typical shenanigans he’s probably used to by now. But Ménage should be fun. The name alone is promising,” she said suggestively.

  Alex looked at her over the coffee he was sipping. He had an idea where this was going. “Yeah, my girlfriend thinks so as well,” he said, making sure to stress the important part of that statement.

  Brianna stared at him a long moment before recovering her overly bright smile. “So, someone managed to tie down the bad-boy. Don’t tell me you’re finally getting serious about a girl?” she teased.

  He set the coffee down. “Actually, yes,” he said, giving her look that left no doubt. “It is pretty serious. In fact, I owe her a phone call tonight.”

  “Wow,” she exclaimed raising her eyebrows. “So she’s already got you whipped like that.”

  His voice turned to stone. “There’s a difference between being whipped and being in love. Maybe one day you’ll understand it.”

  “Okay, okay,” she said, backing off with a roll of the eyes. “At any rate, let’s discuss this Ménage thing.”

  “Right,” Alex said, relaxing a bit. “So I’ve got the limo all set. We’ll pick the three of you up at your place at 10 p.m. and head over.”

  She nodded. “So you’ll be coming too, right?”

  “Well, I try to make it a point to be at the unveiling of any club I help to revamp, so yes. I’ll just be riding with you three.”

  “Perfect,” she said smiling. “Just like old times!”

  “No, not like old times,” he reminded her. “In fact, I want to make it clear, no drugs at all. Not even pot. You can drink, but try not to get too disgustingly wasted. Dance and party all you want. You’ll get the full VIP treatment. All I need you to do is show up and have a good time. Trust me, it will be fun even without the aid of illegal substances.”

  “So no snorting coke off hookers, got it,” she teased.

  Alex shook his head, the doubt creeping back in. It wasn’t too late to just call the damn thing off. The club would be a success even without Brianna and her friends. The two of them did have a wild past, one he’d grown out of. As he looked at Brianna, he wondered if she ever would.

  * * *

  “So should I be worried?” Brooklyn asked teasingly on the other end of the line.

  “Not even a bit,” Alex assured her. “Christ, she’s two years older than you and I’m pretty sure you’re even more mature than she is. You at least have a job.”

  “Not for long, the way Jared has me going to and fro on his every whim,” she sighed. “Pretty soon I’ll run out of excuses to leave work, sick. They’ve already given me a warning.”

  “Want me to have a talk with Michael?” he asked. “I’m pretty sure he could smooth things over. He is a partner there after all.”

  “No, I don’t want you to have a talk with Michael,” she scolded. “I’m a big girl, and they do have a point. I should probably start looking for a job with more flexible work hours anyway, at least until this art thing finally takes off.”

  “Which it totally will,” he said confidently. “In fact, I’m thinking we should celebrate early.”

  “Oh, yeah?” she asked suggestively. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Okay, what are you wearing?”

  “Really?” she laughed. “Come on Alex, you can do better than that.”

  “What?” he argued. “I really want to know.

  “Trust me, you don’t,” she assured him. “Besides, it won’t matter in a second.”

  “Oh, I like the sound of that.”

  “You just sit there and imagine me lying naked on your bed in front of you.”

  “Go on,” he urged.

  “I’ve got one hand on my breast, circling my rock hard nipple with my finger.”

  Alex, quickly unzipped his pants on his end….

  Chapter 8

  “He did what?” Michael said, outraged. “I could fucking kill that guy!”

  London was surprised at Michael’s reaction. They were at the Roosevelt Hotel as usual, and London looked on with a tiny bit of pleasure as Michael’s face took on an expression of jealous rage. Her dad was one thing, but Michael was her man…willing to fight for her honor.

  As a couple, she knew it was important to share everything with him. She figured he would be upset, but his reaction had been unexpectedly territorial. It was thrilling having a man actually want to fight for her for once, especially considering how momentarily scared she’d been back in her office, alone with Dion Davis. It made her love him all the more.

  “Michael,” she said with a soothing tone. “I can take care of myself. The good news is, he’s no longer represented by
our firm,” she assured him. It was wonderful that he felt this strongly, but she didn’t want him obsessing about it. Dion had caused enough of an intrusion into her life; she sure as hell wasn’t going to have him ruining her love life as well.

  “How the hell can you be so calm about this?” he said with a look of disbelief.

  “I’m trying to look at it in a positive light,” she said. “You know how much angst he’s caused our firm. At least now we’re rid of him for good. And good riddance!” she added with a note of finality.

  “But he threatened you,” Michael pointed out with a wary tone.

  “Hot air,” she said dismissively. “You know politicians. They’re always trying to cover their asses. In a week he’ll find a new firm to represent him and hopefully lose the election.”

  “Still—”

  “Still nothing,” she said crawling over to straddle him in the bed, where he had on nothing but a pair of boxers. “You know whose woman I am,” she purred, tapping into the primal part of him. She was wearing only a completely transparent nightie from La Perla and a pair of matching bikini panties. Her heart skipped as she watched the pure, animal lust come to his eyes as they hungrily lingered over her body.

  Her assurances cooled his rage only a couple of degrees. Watching her flick the strap of the nightie off her right shoulder did the rest.

  “Oh yeah?” he murmured, following her lead. “And just how are you gonna show me?”

  She entangled her fingers in his and held them as high over his head against the bed as her much shorter torso would allow. She bent down, pressing the smooth fabric of her nightie against the hair on his chest as she leaned into his face.

  “Just watch me,” she murmured.

  “Or,” he said, using his much more powerful strength to push her hands up off his. He pumped his hips up to lift her body and swing her around so that she was the one lying on the bed. “I could make you watch me.”