Page 25 of The Billionaire's Betrayal
Chapter Eight
Alexa opened the door of her building, and Brooks followed her inside. Evening fell behind them. She’d kept to herself during the flight, choosing to read a business magazine, then pretending to watch a thriller movie to avoid talking to him. But now, she could smell his manly scent, the seductive notes of his cologne, and wished for a moment she didn’t have that capability.
The woodsy traces in his aroma reminded her of a large, sexy man from the country. A man who, despite his wealth and privilege, had chosen to build his own cattle empire and thrive. Her shoulders sagged. A man who didn’t exist.
She flicked on the lights. As they walked through the empty stage where auctions took place, an eeriness stalked her. All the chairs had been folded and put away for cleaning. Only on auction nights, on Saturdays, did the room reach its full potential.
“Quiet here,” Brooks said, walking alongside her.
“My assistant Jackie has probably left for the day. I beef up security on auction nights and when we’re interviewing, but besides that, there’s no need for it.”
“Have you ever received death threats?”
“Weekly,” she said, remembering the emails she’d gotten from religious groups or scorned ex-wives. Jackie did the weeding out for her, so she no longer read them. She sighed. People with too much time on their hands, but no real action plan—thankfully. “I don’t do what I do to piss off anyone. So I try not to worry about it.”
“Where’s your security from?”
“On auction nights, I outsource them from the same firm I’ve worked with for years.”
She unlocked the door to her office, switched on the light and marched in. He shadowed her, and she turned to close the door, then realized they were the only ones in the building. Apprehension expanded in her veins, and her office seemed smaller than she remembered.
Shaking her head, she sat on her chair, flicking on her computer screen and typing her password. “We don’t have cameras around the building in order to keep the clients’ identities private.” The last thing she needed was a waitress or a security person filming the attendees to blackmail them later.
“That’s not smart.”
“Thanks for your business advice.” She rolled her eyes, then focused on her computer screen. She typed his sister’s name in the database of auctionees. Then, she printed out the information she had on Pamela and gave it to him.
When she handed him the paper, her fingers brushed his, and a spark shot up her arm. Swiftly, she withdrew, rubbing her hands together like she’d been shocked and needed to recover. “This is what I have on file about your sister.”
He plopped on the seat in front of her, holding the sheets. Concern washed over his face, and she shifted in her chair. What would her life be like if she’d had a sibling? Would they have been thick as thieves, sharing fears and ambitions? Or would life have torn them apart?
Silly idea. She’d never wish for a sibling to grow up with her mother and her choices for men. No one deserved that. Not even me.
“Alexa.” Brooks’s deep baritone pulled her from her musing.
She blinked. “Yeah? Found anything interesting?”
He pointed at the piece of paper, waving it to her. “She put down an address and phone number here.”
“Didn’t you know where she lived?”
“Not lately. We had a fallout a couple of years ago. An argument when she’d been drunk and I was too stubborn. I hurt her feelings.” He thrust his fingers into his hair.
No wonder he was so adamant on finding out about his sister. She leaned closer, grateful for the desk in between them. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said, her voice soft, despite her internal alarms warning her to toughen up. When he’d explained his betrayal of her in Texas, she’d wanted to kill him—and now, a small part of her wanted to reach out and hug him.
He rubbed his stubbled chin, glancing at the paper, perhaps looking for more than just what led to Pamela’s death. “She asked for help, and though she came about it the wrong way, I didn’t give her what she needed. I told her to stop blaming my father for everything, even though I do the same.”
“She mirrored your behavior, and you didn’t like what you saw.”
“Exactly.” He folded the pages and sat them aside.
Her pulse fluttered, and she had to mentally restrain herself to keep from stretching out her hand to him. Sure, she didn’t trust him and a part of her loathed him for what he’d done to her. But damn, he’d cared about his sister enough to find out the truth. That had been more than anyone, family or friend, had done for her. That truth was like an invisible blade, slowly twisting its way into her flesh.
“I’ll need a list of who was working that day.”
“My assistant Jackie will be here in the morning. She’s the one who schedules employees and keeps up with that kind of stuff.” She toyed with the idea of calling Jackie and summoning her to come over, but decided not to. She didn’t want to worry Jackie about Brooks’s motives, and she certainly wouldn’t want Brooks to believe she was eager to help him. “You can talk to her then.”
“Can I take a look around? How many entrances do you have?”
