Mr. Wright & Mr. Wrong: A BWWM Romance (20 page)

“
D
addy
, we have to find out,” London insisted.

“London, there are ways of doing this,” he responded. “You can’t just go up to a state representative—the next potential mayor of New York—and ask him if he’s stolen money from kids, or worse!”

The three Jeffersons of
Jefferson, Jefferson, Jefferson & Associates
were gathered for an emergency meeting early Sunday morning. It would be one of the first times the three of them had missed morning service at church.

This Sunday, they needed a bit more help than God could provide.

“He’s supposed to be stopping by tomorrow anyway, so we’ll have a one-on-one meeting with him, and
him
alone. We’ll ask him, tactfully,” he cast a warning glance in London’s direction, “and see what he has to say. If he denies it, well, I suppose we’ll go from there.”

“You don’t see the problem with that?” London asked with surprise. “At least two other people—who aren’t his attorneys, by the way—know about this! He can deny it all he wants, but there are people who either think, or know he did one of those two things, and may have proof!”

“We don’t even know what the other thing is.” Cleveland chimed in. “It could be nothing.”

“Enough to be as potentially career-ending as stealing from kids,” she reminded him. “With photos!”

“Let’s not put the cart before the horse here,” Frank said calming her down. “Maybe it’s just a simple misunderstanding. Maybe they weren’t even talking about him. There
are
other candidates out there. ”

“Daddy, right now there are only two
viable
candidates in this election. And there are exactly two scandals. He’s got to be the suspect in one of these, otherwise why would they bother? We need to get in front of it before…before the news gets out.”

“Well according to you the only two people who know about it are in some kind of stalemate,” Cleveland said. “You’re the only other one who knows and you are his attorney. So maybe we have nothing to worry about.”

London thought about Michael and their fight. She hadn’t meant to ignore him the rest of the night, she just had to absorb the shock of what she had heard and, yes, “cover all bases and get a handle on things.”

The comments about marriage and settling down had come out of nowhere. Even she couldn’t understand it. That was a lie; she absolutely could. It had been nagging at her since their first night. Back then it really
had
just been a fun rebound. Then they’d done it again, and again. They’d met up all week long, and now…she had feelings.

He had never brought up his “fear of marriage” again, but it hung there waiting to be addressed. And what better time than in the middle of a fight? She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. But right now, she had the future Mayor of New York’s fucking image to protect, and more importantly, her family’s firm to save.

She hadn’t been lying when she spat out that they had put all their eggs in this electoral basket. Not only were they not actively seeking new clients, they had been turning away almost everyone who approached them, having enough on their plate with current clients and, more importantly Dion Davis. Daddy had seemed so sure of Dion’s chances. Heck, the entire Democratic Party seemed sure of him. It had been plotted and planned all of last year, grooming him, making him palatable to the general public. He was beloved by the black community and now held respect outside of that constituency. By the time he announced, he made Barack Obama seem like Malcom X. It seemed like a no brainer.

Now it was all going to hell.

“We can’t rely on that assumption,” she said. “If I overheard these two carelessly talking, then someone else might have as well,” she said guardedly.

“Hmm,” her father mused, “That is a thought. Now tell me exactly where you were and what you were doing when you heard the conversation.”

Her eyes shot open wide and her breath caught in her throat. “I was…on my way to….um, I had to go to the ladies’ room. That’s when I heard them through the door of the conference room.”

“Was anyone else in the hallway with you?”

She paused only a split second. “No.”

Frank nodded with reassurance. “Okay, then. Tomorrow we ask him and see what he says.”

London sighed. She only hoped the man would just come clean. She was mildly curious to find out whether he was a crook or…something just as bad.

* * *

“
W
hat exactly are
you hinting at here, Frank?”

The three Jeffersons had invited Representative Davis, and Representative Davis alone, into one of the more private conference rooms of the firm to have a rather delicate discussion that Monday morning.

London stepped in. Dad was used to finessing people’s egos. She saw no point in pussyfooting around this.

“Representative Davis, we’re your attorneys. That means that anything you tell us is confidential. We are here to help you, but we can’t help you if you don’t tell us everything, including any skeletons in the closet.”

“I’m not sure I appreciate the accusation in your tone, young lady,” he said giving her a reproving glare.

London sighed and wanted to throw up her hands in frustration. As an attorney, she should be used to this by now, clients lying and deflecting, even when they knew it was against their own interests.

“Thank you for the clarification, London,” Frank said, frowning at her. Then he turned back to Dion Davis, a far more placating look on his face. “Dion, you and I have been friends for a while now. But, as London said, I’m also your attorney. Trust me, the things I’ve heard in this room would make you blush,” he tried bringing laughter into the conversation, but Dion was having none of it.

“Frank, it’s because we’re friends that I haven’t walked right out of this room,” Dion responded with a serious tone. “You accuse me of what? Stealing money from the Summer Lunch Program to help ‘my rich friends’ who lost money in that Siverion scandal years ago? Or maybe I’m just a pervert, is that it?”

“No one here is accusing you—”

“That sounds exactly like what you are doing,” the representative growled.

“Do you really want Wright to get to this first?” London finally interjected. “Because that is a distinct possibility. If
we
know, then they might know about this as well.”

“But I thought you said you were the only one who heard this little conversation,” Dion responded.

Was that a flicker of fear in his eyes?

London pushed the idea away. Of course he was concerned about these accusations. Anyone would be. It didn’t mean he had done any of them…necessarily.

“The fact is, we are your legal team, and this is a legal issue. Even if you aren’t involved in one of these scandals, someone out there suspects you are, and obviously has some kind of proof. So you need to think hard about
how
and
why
they might have that kind of evidence.” She gave him a penetrating stare, gauging his reaction.

“London,” her dad chided softly.

London didn’t care. This man, or maybe one of his team, was holding back something and he would rather sweep it under the rug—taking her family’s firm with it—than face it head on, which was exactly what the Jefferson’s were brought in to do!

Dion Davis may have been her father’s “friend for a long time,” but to her he was a client. A very uncooperative client.

“Well, I can see you three have things to discuss,” Representative Davis said, rising up and adjusting his coat. “I expected a bit of mud to be thrown during this campaign. I’m used to it. I
didn’t
expect it from my own legal team. I simply can’t indulge the suspicions of someone who
may
have heard something about me in passing… after a few drinks.” He made a point of looking in London’s direction as he uttered the final sentence.

“Now, Dion,” her father said, taking on a warning tone. London was glad to hear it. They may have been friends, but she was his daughter. He could play coy with this issue all he wanted, but it was another thing to tarnish London’s good judgement.

“That’s Representative Davis to you,” the man responded with a cold glance.

“Representative Davis,” Frank said, swallowing his pride. Davis wasn’t the first client, he’d had to placate. “Just keep in mind what was said here today. We are only trying to help you.”

“There’s nothing to keep in mind,” Dion said. “I’ll continue to keep this firm on as my legal team, because of our long past together, but I don’t
ever
want to hear about this…
scandal
again, do we understand each other?”

Frank and Cleveland nodded. London just crossed her arms and sighed.

If Michael told his father, they were fucked.

O
omph

Michael wasn’t sure if the sound was purely in his head or if he had actually gasped it out loud. Eventually the pain kicked in and he didn’t give two shits. Instead he bent over with a dull, throbbing ache, while a child’s cackling drifted toward his ears from about ten feet away.

“Got ya!
neener, neener, neener!”
Chauncey yelled with glee before running away, this time in a T-rex mask and a full set of batman pajamas on. Michael didn’t stop to think about the incongruence of that combo. He was too busy seeing red as he stared down at the huge NERF projectile that had just hit him square in the nut sack.

One of these days, kid.

Michael wobbled his way into the living room where his father was on the phone, yucking it up with some acquaintance. Michael wondered to himself if this was an acquaintance who had perhaps been saved after the Siverion debacle.

“…so thy’re riding on their bikes, and the one nun goes, I’ve never come this way before,” his father was saying, a shit-eating grin on his face.

It had been big news when the Siverion thing went down. The mutual fund company had been raising eyebrows with how well its funds were performing. Just when eyebrows were becoming a bit
too
raised, it turned out that one of the employees had embezzled a significant portion of the company’s total assets—enough to make the entire company go under completely.

Plenty of rich people had lost a ton of money, but so had a lot of charities and retirement accounts. The bastard who’d taken the money had refused to divulge where it was and was still rotting away in prison, while many unfortunate souls had to start over from square one.

But apparently, some people had come out of it unscathed.

"It's the cobblestone streets, she says!” Richard guffawed into the phone, as though he had not a care in the world.

Michael rolled his eyes and tuned him out, returning to his thoughts until his father hung up. He didn’t have the best relationship with the man, but he’d never outright hated him. He wondered how he would feel if he found out that his own father was involved in switching out those funds. He had taken a long break from work specifically to find out.

Of course, there was also the other possibility.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of my own son actually gracing me with his presence?” he heard Richard say, as he hung up the phone.

Michael approached the issue carefully. He wasn’t sure if it was out of consideration for London or because he really didn’t want to give Richard Wright any edge as far as his campaign went. Frankly, he’d be a horrible mayor. Michael truly did suspect that he was doing it for a laugh.

“I just wanted to touch base with you about this election you’re set on participating in.”

“So you’ve finally decided to back your old man!” Richard laughed with delight. “I knew it was only a matter of time before you saw the light. I plan on doing huge things, son.
Huge!”

“No, dad,” Michael sighed with annoyance. “I just wanted to see if maybe you’d thought about how a campaign might affect your family,” he hinted.

“My family is the main reason I’m doing it!” Richard responded. He stood up to take his favorite stance, facing the window imperiously, hands clasped behind his back. “We all live in this city, son. Well, most of us anyway,” he added, obviously referring to Alex. “As mayor I can do great things, the
best
things.”

Christ, this was going nowhere.

“You know they’ll pick apart your life? They’ll dig deep,
really
deep, trying to find anything they can to throw at you. Have you thought about that?” Michael asked, hoping his father might take the bait.

Richard turned around to him with a patronizing stare. “Michael, you of all people know I’ve been wrung through the wringer before. Four wives later and people still love me!”

Michael knew full well about that. More like four affairs. Richard hadn’t been the only one going through that wringer.

“Elections are different, dad. People are willing to overlook certain scandals when you are just buying up real estate. Not so much when you are in public office.”

“Michael, why don’t you just tell me what it is you’re getting at?”

He sighed. Might as well go for broke. “You remember that whole Siverion Mutual Fund thing a while ago?” Michael analyzed his father’s reaction, searching for any clue that the name might spark something in him.

The only obvious reaction was disdain. “Situations like that are exactly why I stick to real estate. Idiots dumping their money into other people’s hands to play with. I like my money where I can see it, right outside my window.”

Richard turned to stare out the window, leaving his son just as clueless about this situation as when he came.

“Wait a second,” Richard said, “What does that have to do with my campaign?” Now it was his turn to give a speculating look to Michael.

“Nothing,” Michael said with a poker face. “I just heard something in passing about it.”

If he was forced to give a reason why he wasn’t being 100% straight with his dad, it would have less to do with his lack of faith in his father’s abilities as mayor and more to do with his desire to protect to London.

Michael had been completely thrown the moment she’d brought up marriage. When they’d first met each other he’d mentioned his commitment issues simply as a lark, not wanting to scare her off. It was obvious she wasn’t looking for anything serious.

Truth be told, he did have cold feet when it came to popping the question, mostly because the women who had been thrown his way in any serious capacity had been so…expected. Whether it was pure rebellion or bona fide cynicism about the institution, Michael had wanted none of it.

Then he’d spent the night with London. Then another night. By the end of the week, he couldn’t see himself going a whole weekend without seeing her again. That’s why he’d finagled the stupid ticket to the Mayor’s event in the first place. Sitting next to his father and the equally inane Svetlana had been hell. But it had been so,
so
worth it…until it wasn’t.

“But back to the campaign,” he said, moving the conversation off the Siverion scent, “is there any reason that we, as your relatives, might have something to be
embarrassed
about, should it come out?”

“Son, the Wrights never have anything to be embarrassed about,” Richard said. Because, of course he would say that.

This was utterly pointless.

“Well, I just wanted to air this out,” Michael said, turning to leave. “Good luck on your campaign.”

“I hope I can count on you come election time, Michael! We’ll bring New York back!”

Michael had no idea what that meant.

He heard trouble before it reached him. The quick sound of bare feet along the marble floor. Someone had been waiting in hiding for him to reappear in the foyer.

Michael waited around the corner. The plastic gun was huge, nearly the same size as his half-brother. If one were to delve too deeply down that road they might wonder what the person who had actually bought it was compensating for. At any rate, that gun was now Michael’s.

He reached out a hand and grabbed it right out of Chauncey’s grasp. The boy gave a yelp of stunned surprise at having the tables turned on him. Michael saw the mouth opening wide to let out its first scream of outrage.

“Stop,”
he ordered with a stern look on his face.

Apparently no one had ever said that word to him, at least not the way Michael had. Chauncey just stared at him in shock.

He leaned down into the stunned face. “Boys who don’t know how to play nice with their toys, don’t get to keep their toys. This gun is now mine.”

He walked off with the NERF gun toward the door. It took half a minute but the yelling came soon enough. Hopefully at least a tiny bit of that had sunk in, but, knowing his dad’s indulgences when it came to buying toys for his sons, Michael would no doubt have to show up wearing a protective cup from now on.