Drop Dead, Gorgeous Part 4

"Gatewood's worth millions," she continued with a spark of enthusiasm in her eyes.

"Do you hear yourself, Colette? I said, it's bulls.h.i.+t. I don't know that woman from Eve, and I sure as h.e.l.l am not going to take her word for something like this."

"Then ask your father?" she suddenly said.

Frank shook his head, crawled out of bed, found his underwear on the floor, and started to get dressed. "I knew I should've kept my mouth shut," he grumbled.

"What harm could it do to ask your father about Jordan, Frank?" She sat up behind him. "At least you'd know."

"Why the h.e.l.l would I want to know some s.h.i.+t like that? What difference does it make?"

Colette looked at him like she couldn't believe he'd just asked that question. "If it's true, it could make all the difference."

He knew what she was thinking. Frank and Colette had been partners, they'd been friends for more than a decade, and there were times when he truly believed they shared one brain. Frank knelt on the bed, gently cupped her chin with his hand, and gazed deeply into those big, green eyes of hers.

"Our problems are big enough already, baby. Even if this happened to be true, Jordan Gatewood is not the kind of man either of us is equipped to f.u.c.k with." He stood up and started slipping into his pants. "If things were reversed, and I was in his shoes, I'd make sure that any motha f.u.c.ka coming at me with some s.h.i.+t like this never took another breath. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Powerful men like Gatewood, men with so much to lose, would go to any lengths to protect what they had. Frank didn't need to be smart to know this. He just needed to be empathetic.

Tears of frustration clouded Colette's eyes. "I don't know how much longer I can do this, Frank," she said weakly. "I need to resign, just like you did."

"You do that now, and they'll get suspicious. I already told you."

"How do you know they're not already getting suspicious?" she shot back bitterly. "For all I know, they're just building a case right now as we speak."

"I don't believe that," he said calmly.

"Because you're not there every day like I am," she snapped. "You took off! You left me there to take the heat by my d.a.m.n self!"

"So what the f.u.c.k are you thinking, Colette? Threaten to tell the world that Gatewood isn't who he says he is if he doesn't pay up?" Frank hadn't realized that he was yelling until he saw the look on her face.

Colette nodded.

"And add blackmail charges to murder," he said coolly.

Colette shrugged. "There'll only be charges if we get caught, Frank. We could take the money and run-Canada, Mexico. Wherever you want, baby. I'll follow you to the ends of the Earth. You know that."

Frank should've known better than to mention Lonnie's proposition to Colette. As ridiculous as it all sounded, he should've known that Colette was desperate enough to make it make sense in her mind.

"Just talk to your father, Frank. Ask him if Jordan is his son. If he says no, then-"

But what if the old man said yes? That's what scared him the most. Then how tempted would Frank be to really take this thing to the next level?

"I'll call you when I get to Paris," he said, kissing her on the head before he left.

He's Like My Blue Sky Norman's was Jordan's favorite restaurant. He and Claire had a standing reservation at a table next to a window overlooking the city, the pianist played flawlessly, as usual, and the filet mignon practically melted in your mouth. But tonight, Jordan seemed more preoccupied than usual. He'd been unusually quiet, which always made Claire nervous. She was sensitive to his moods. Claire used a great deal of energy reading her husband, and antic.i.p.ating his needs, but she loved him, and she lived for him.

It had been his idea to go out to dinner tonight, but Jordan had hardly touched his food. It had been a while since she'd seen this side of him. Things between the two of them had gotten better these last few years. Jordan was more attentive, even more caring and considerate. Most of the time, Claire could almost believe that he was in love with her.

"June called," she said, breaking the silence between the two of them. "We're flying to Taos in a few weeks for a spa weekend."

He looked at her. It was the kind of look she'd come to love. There was a time when Jordan hardly acknowledged that Claire was in the same room with him. Now he took notice of her, and for Claire, that spoke volumes.

"That sounds nice, baby," he said, almost smiling. "The two of you should have a good time."

Jordan didn't like a clingy woman. Claire worked hard not to be that woman. He seemed to miss her when he was gone, and he was genuinely glad to see her when he came home. He'd changed so much in the last few years. Claire had nearly lost him. She'd nearly lost herself over him, but slowly, their relations.h.i.+p was on the mend, and she couldn't have been happier.

She reached across the table and rested her hand on top of his. Instead of pulling it away the way he used to, Jordan laced his fingers between hers. Her heart fluttered.

"Is everything alright, Jordan?" she asked carefully. "Is there something bothering you?"

Her handsome husband gazed into her eyes, and it was all Claire could do not to swoon. There was no man as fine as Jordan Gatewood, and no other man in this would could affect her the way he did. There's nothing she wouldn't do if he asked. There's no place she wouldn't follow him to. Claire had come so close to losing him, but G.o.d must've been on her side, because when the dust finally settled, he was still hers.

"I'm just tired, sweetheart," he eventually said, raising her hand to his lips, and kissing it.

"Do you want to go?" she asked, holding back her excitement.

Jordan nodded, and flagged down the waiter.

Claire had the most beautiful mouth. Jordan lay back on the bed, holding back her hair with one hand, watching in awe, the magic she worked with that pretty mouth on his d.i.c.k. He'd have been a fool to let her go, and he'd come so close to doing just that. He'd gotten his head too wrapped up in Lonnie to see straight, and he'd almost made the biggest mistake of his life, and left his wife for that woman. Claire looked up at him with beautiful amber eyes, hooded in lashes that were so long they didn't look real.

"Are you happy?" she asked sweetly, smiling up at him.

His rigid p.e.n.i.s pulsed in her hand. "You make me happy, baby."

Men envied him for having a woman like Claire. He'd seen the way they looked at her when she walked into a room. She was breathtaking, accommodating, and loyal. There was no doubt in his mind that this woman loved him, and that he could trust her with just about anything, and all it had taken for him to see that was the last night he'd spent with Lonnie.

He'd left Claire in the hospital to get to Lonnie. Claire had slit her wrists, and come parading to the park, b.l.o.o.d.y and hysterical because she'd found out about the two of them. Fortunately, the ambulance came and Jordan whisked her away before anyone could figure out who he was, or that she was his wife. Doctors wanted to put her on one of those seventy-two-hour holds, but Jordan made sure that didn't happen. He didn't need the negative press, and Claire needed to accept that he didn't want her anymore.

After Lonnie, Jordan went to his downtown penthouse, showered, and slept all day and all night. When he finally did make it back to the house, Claire was there, waiting. She sat slumped on the sofa, her wrists still bandaged, her hair pulled back, and she had packed all of her things.

"I was going to write you a note," she said, not bothering to look up at him. "But I didn't know what to say."

It was in that moment that what he'd done actually became real. For two days, he'd slept to keep from thinking about what he'd done to Lonnie, and what had happened in that house. Jordan had gone numb, almost to the point of believing that the whole thing had been one bad dream that couldn't possibly have had anything to do with him.

"I'm tired, Jordan," she said, defeated. "You don't want me. You never have, and I'm tired of trying to make you change your mind."

He didn't want her. Jordan had had this beautiful, sweet woman all these years, and he had never really wanted her. Was it true? Watching her stand up, he noticed how thin she looked, how frail, and fragile. And noticing those things in her stirred the realization in him that Claire was all he had. She had been there with him, standing by his side, being his cheerleader, pumping him up when everybody else around him fully expected him to fail. She had been true to him, and real. He'd been all caught up in Lonnie but for all of the wrong reasons. A man like him didn't need the bulls.h.i.+t game-playing that came with a woman like Lonnie. He needed a rock. He needed someone stable, like Claire. He had a corporation to run and to grow, and in his world the last thing he had ever needed was a woman more interested in the game than in him.

She picked up her suitcase, and started to walk past him. A voice in his head screamed, Don't you dare let her walk out on you!

Jordan grabbed hold of her arm. "Claire," he whispered her name, and tears stung his eyes. Letting her go would be a mistake.

She tried to jerk away from him. "Jordan, don't." She began to sob. "I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry, but I can't."

She wanted him to let her go, but Jordan made his mind up, right then and there, that he would never let her leave him. He slipped his arm around her waist. "Claire," he said again, pulling her closer. He took her bag from her hand and let it fall to the floor. Jordan inhaled the floral scent of her hair, his nose pressed into the curve of her neck, and pulled her against his chest, as she cried.

"I'm sorry, baby," he said, pa.s.sionately, desperately holding on to her, as if his very life depended on her.

Claire was his life raft. She was his anchor. He'd been selfish and blind before, but now it was clear to him that night just how much he had needed this woman.

Claire's head bobbed up and down on his shaft, and Jordan felt the eruption start to build. She knew what it took to make him c.u.m. She knew what he liked better than any woman, and he knew her. When she finished, he would take care of her, his wife, his woman. Jordan would bury his nose between the soft folds of her sweetness, and lose himself in her until she cried out, calling his name as she came all over his face.

"That's it, baby," he gasped. "I'm c.u.mming, Claire! d.a.m.n! Baby!"

I Can Take Your Fears Away "It's two in the morning, Phillip," Lonnie said sleepily, answering the phone. "What are you up to?"

"I'm lying in bed, thinking of you, my love. Oh, hold for a moment, please."

Lonnie held the phone to her ear, and heard him talking to someone. "It looks delicious, sweetheart. Oh, could you go back to the kitchen and fetch me the jar of peach preserves in the cupboard? I do so love peach preserves with my scones. Thank you, darling. Lonnie?"

"What do you call this one?" she asked, referring to the woman he was obviously with. "The one fetching you some preserves?"

"A beautiful, pet.i.te, big-bosomed, fair-skinned redhead named Anna. You would like her."

"Where are you, Phillip?"

"Athens. The weather's beautiful. You should've come with me."

"But I have work to do," she said solemnly.

He paused. "Yes. I suppose you do. How's it coming along?"

"He looked like he'd seen a ghost when he first laid eyes on me, and then he just looked p.i.s.sed."

"p.i.s.sed is dangerous, love, especially for a man like him."

"I know. I'm being careful."

"You have to be, Lonnie. Gatewood's more dangerous now than he ever was before. He's a man who's spent the last two years believing that he'd literally gotten away with murder. You don't give him that kind of a gift and then s.n.a.t.c.h it away from him. There's a witness to his crime, and that witness is you."

Phillip was right, of course, and he was doing his part, even from as far away as Athens, to try and keep her safe. He'd bought the downtown Dallas loft, in a secure building; she was staying in it under his name. The cars she drove were registered to various aliases, and a different one was parked in the designated spot every few days.

"What about the brother? Did that pan out?"

She sighed dismally. "It did. He is Jordan's half brother but he doesn't want to get involved. Turns out his brain is bigger than the needs of his empty wallet."

"Did he say no right away?"

"He said h.e.l.l no, immediately, then tucked tail and ran."

"Smart man."

"For real."

"But don't write him off just yet, sweetheart. He probably just needs time to digest what you've told him. He'll go home, peruse the Internet for any and everything he can find on Gatewood, and just when he's downed his last Budweiser and last packet of ramen noodles, he might just dial your number."

She laughed. "I'll cross my fingers and toes."

Was she crazy? Was Lonnie out of her mind for coming back to this place, and purposely putting herself in the same arena with Jordan Gatewood? So far, she'd only shown up with threats, but Lonnie had such a long way to go to get Jordan where she wanted him. In the meantime, she had to try and stay off his radar, out of sight, and alive. He wouldn't make the same mistake the next time. He probably wouldn't use his own hands to try and take her out either. She wasn't safe as long as she was in the same state with the man. Lonnie might as well have been walking around with a bull's-eye on her back.

"What are you thinking?" Phillip eventually asked her.

"I'm thinking, what if I don't get this right, Phillip? What if I made a mistake coming back here and getting in his face like I did? And I'm thinking that maybe I should just pack up my things, and drive my a.s.s to the airport and fly to Athens to meet your new girlfriend."

"I'm thinking that if you do that, if you leave now, you'll regret it for the rest of your life. I'm thinking that if my new girlfriend gets a good look at you, she'll dump me for you. And I'm thinking that there will be casualties, Lonnie. This is one ugly game you've got yourself into, and it can only get uglier."

"Casualties I can handle," she said quietly. "What's the saying? It's a dog-eat-dog world? I just don't think I could live with myself if Jordan walks away from this unscathed."

"You're not alone, love. I'm in your corner, and all you have to do is ask. You know I'll do whatever it takes to help you get through this."

Lonnie smiled. "I know, baby. You have always been so good to me."

"I promised you that I'd keep you safe, and to the best of my ability that's what I'm going to do. Knowing you, Lonnie, and what you're capable of, I believe in you. I believe that you can do this, and I believe that you should. He had no right to hurt you the way he did. And you have every right to make him pay the price."

"A normal woman would go to the police."

"And Jordan Gatewood owns the police. It would be your word, two years after the fact, against his. Who do you think would win?"

Jordan, by a landslide.

"I can't let him get away with what he did to me," she said, more to herself than to Phillip.

"Of course not. Just remember that men like Jordan don't play by rules, unless he makes them up. So, you throw your rule book out the window too, love."

"Consider it gone."

"Oh, and one more thing," he added. "The brother?"

"Frank Ross."

"Maybe he's not the Gomer Pyle he wants to make you think he is. I'm sending a newspaper clipping to your phone. It may be nothing, or it could be everything. It's up to you to figure it out. I'm just the messenger."

A few minutes after ending the call, Phillip's file came through attached to a text message.

Coincidence? I wonder....

TWO OFF-DUTY POLICE OFFICERS FOUND DEAD.

Tuesday morning, a fisherman stumbled upon the bodies of two men lying facedown in the Rio Grande River just north of Ernie, Texas, a small community ten miles outside of Cotton. The two men were later identified as Edward Brewer and Jake Boston, both members of the Texas State Highway Patrol.

So, Frank Ross was born in Cotton, and he may have even been a cop there, but ... What was Phillip implying? What was going on in that brilliant brain of his, and what was he hoping she'd connect? Frank Ross, a cop killer? The big, good-looking lug could've been a world heavyweight wrestler, but a killer? Before she dismissed the notion too soon, Lonnie took a few minutes to let it sink in. In her line of work, she'd seen all sorts of things, met all sorts of people, and in all these years, she'd learned one thing: that people were capable of just about anything, even those you least expected to be capable of anything.

The article was a year old. Frank had moved to Paris a few months after that story was published and started his own security business, Ross Security. Reading further along into the article, the local police forces suspected drug dealers, but the case was still open. It was a stretch, putting Frank behind a gun that killed those men. But then, finding him had been a stretch, and finding out that he was Joel Tunson's illegitimate son had been a taffy pull. Lonnie turned off the light and closed her eyes to try to sleep, but it was too late. Phillip had flipped the on switch in her brain. d.a.m.n him!

We Are the Genius of Love d.a.m.n! She tasted like apples. He explored her mouth with his tongue, marveling at how the taste never seemed to disappoint him. As much as he regretted breaking the seal of their kiss, there were other parts of her that begged to be tasted too. Jordan found her nipples swelling instantly as the tip of his tongue grazed over first one, and then the other. She arched her back, opened her mouth and released a satisfying moan.