Page 3 of Sweet (Chicago Underground 7)
Pretty soon I would have to quit, whether I opened my own studio or not. But it was more than just the dancing; I needed to move out. To grow up. Philip wouldn’t take that well. He was overprotective, overbearing…and exactly what I had needed once upon a time.
Instead of climbing the wide, winding staircase to my room, I stopped into the kitchen for a banana and a cup of OJ. Then I swung a left through the open-air living room to pass by the office. The double doors were open, which meant their top-secret business discussion had concluded. The house was secure, oppressively so, but Philip made privacy an art form.
Even knowing I’d be welcome, I hung in the shadows of the hallway, listening to the comforting sound of low male voices. My eyes fell shut. Other people liked music or ocean noises to relax, but the rough, male timbre was my melody, the murmured ebb and flow my rhythm.
Drew laughed, a melodic sound like rocks tumbling in a stream. I sighed in pleasure.
Philip thought I would be scared of men, but he had spent years protecting me, building a fortress so that no one could touch me. I remembered my dad in flashes of a rage-contorted face and flying fists, more like a nightmare than reality. I had nothing to fear from men, not anymore. The only thing I feared was the coldness of isolation.
Their voices quieted, trickling dry. After a moment, Philip called out, “Rose, you’re back.”
A smile curved my lips. He’d known I was there. He was almost impossible to fool, which was another reason I could never do anything secret with Drew. The results, if Philip found out, would be disastrous. And Philip would definitely find out.
I slipped into the room. Both men had their jackets off and sleeves rolled up. They both stood briefly before I sat down, an old-world gesture that fit them well. Philip was old-fashioned, but in his own way, so was Drew.
Drew was kind, courteous, professional. A perfect gentleman everywhere but his eyes. There he wrote me dirty poetry, doing every wicked thing I craved, promising satisfaction, retribution, if only, if only…
If only I could give in.
He watched me now, predatory. I swallowed hard and turned away. “Hey, big brother. How was your day?”
Philip stretched. “Busy. Tiring, but better now that you’re here. Drew and I have been working since seven.”
I frowned. “Is everything okay?”
Long days were customary, but Philip seemed worn down.
“More than okay,” he said. “We’re about to score a major win. You remember that sanitation company that was giving me trouble?”
Philip owned several aboveboard businesses. In fact, most of them were legit—they just occasionally wrote outside the lines of the law to get things done better, faster, cheaper. One of his first companies did cleaning for office buildings. Whether the economy was up or down, companies needed their trash emptied and toilets cleaned.
I thought back. “I remember you said something about them undercutting your bids.”
“Just barely. Enough to prove that someone was leaking information, but I didn’t know who.”
I sneaked a glance at Drew, who stood looking out the window. “So did you figure it out?”
“No, but in two weeks, the company’s going to get busted for their illegal and predatory hiring practices. They won’t be in any position to take on more jobs…or fulfill the contracts they stole from me.”
I winced.
“Sometimes it’s easier to blast through a wall than climb it,” Philip said.
“Hmm. Tell me they can’t turn around and do the same to you.”
“I’m airtight,” Philip said, “thanks to this guy and his constant nagging that we keep things legal.”
Drew shrugged. “It’s in the job description.”
“Don’t undersell yourself, man. I’ve got the best legal advisor in the city, and everyone fucking knows it.”
I grinned. “Aww, it’s like Hallmark in here.”
Philip sent me a droll look. “The only words of thanks he needs are the ones on his bonus check.”
“Yeah, and it better be a good one,” Drew said lightly. “I just turned down a big raise with a sanitation company in dire need of legal counsel. Something to do with their hiring practices, I understand.”
Philip’s gaze sharpened. “They called you?”
