Page 25 of Rejection Overruled

For the second time that morning I was reading Brooke’s neat calligraphy: Sorry about your car, maybe the sugar in the gas tank will sweeten things up a bit.

“A vendetta,” I told him, beginning to be pissed at Brooke. “Just send the bill to my office as usual.”

“Will do. You’ll have it by this afternoon. I’m just checking to make sure everything is in working order.”

After hanging up the phone with Carl, I double checked my notes on the Dennison case and packed my briefcase. I’d just opened the door to step out when someone stood blocking in the doorway.

“Robert, what are you doing here?”

My brother dropped a bag at his feet. “Is that anyway to greet your older brother?”

I gave him a hug. We hadn’t seen each other in nearly three years though we spoke often on the phone.

“I am happy to see you,” I told him.

“I could check into a hotel, but I wanted to bunk with my little brother. I don’t mind sleeping on the sofa.”

I picked up his bag and headed back through the door. “Nonsense, you can have the bedroom and I will take the sofa.”

Robert’s eyes roamed the space. This was the first time he was seeing my apartment and I awaited his approval.

“Wow, I like it. How long you’ve been here?”

His response pleased me and I help my chin proudly. “I moved in about two years ago. Look, I’m running late, make yourself at home.”

“Thanks bro,” he responded, dropping himself into the arm chair. “I have a premier to attend in a couple of days so I’ll be around for about a week.”

“We’ll talk about that later. I have two court appearances today. I need to be going.”

“Later little bro.”

As I left for work, I recalled the conversation I had with Robert when I was in high school. As far as I knew, he hadn’t changed. He was still chasing after empty headed women who couldn’t hold a conversation for more than five minutes, especially now that he had become a Hollywood agent. He’d tried acting but that didn’t work out. He had the face and the body many directors were looking for, but not the talent.

What Robert did possess was the charm and the ability to sell anything. Rather than becoming a salesman, he chose to represent actors. During his short and uneventful stint as an actor, he made many contacts which he now used to his advantage. His management agency had produce many actors who hit the big screen and landed lead roles in daytime dramas.

I loved my brother, but I knew Robert would not approve of Brooke. It shouldn’t matter at my age, but Robert had always been my idol, my mentor. It was difficult having him disapprove of my choice in women.

The thought caused a weird sensation to present itself in my stomach. When did I choose Brooke? Since meeting her again, I hadn’t as much as looked at another woman. Brooke had been occupying my thoughts for the last couple of weeks. That was the truth. So maybe on a subconscious level I had made a choice.

On the issue of my car, I had to find a way to get back at her, if only to keep the game going. If I knew Brooke well, she’d avoid me at all costs now that her revenge had come to a climax. I chuckled at the pun, my heart flopping violently thinking about her screams of pleasure.

The memory of last night brought a lurch to my manhood and a quivering in my belly. This wasn’t over for me, not by a long shot. Now it was my turn to get the girl and Brooke wasn’t going to get away.

20 – Brooke

“What’s the matter with you, Brooke?” Sophia queried.

She was beginning to grate on my nerves, asking me what was wrong with me every few minutes. Since leaving Jamal’s apartment, my mood had gradually soured and I supposed she detected as much. At some point during the course of the morning I realized that a dark cloud seemed to be hanging over my head and I was unable to shake it off.

This was supposed to be my celebratory morning. After having my accomplices – a bunch of youth who lived in the building – put sugar in Jamal’s gas tank, I should be happy. I gave him the scare of his life and we ended up having amazing sex. The scaring him part was making me feel guilty since he clearly needed therapy due to his accident.

Why wasn’t I happier about our night? It shouldn’t matter that it wouldn’t happen again. It shouldn’t matter that the game was over. But it did matter. I wanted more of Jamal. Shaking my head, I pushed last night aside and concentrated on work.

“Nothing. Send in Donald,” I replied. “And I need the file on the Mayfield case right away.”

“Okay,” she quietly said, exiting my office. “I’m on it.”

I should have been on cloud nine. Not only did I get what I wanted, I also had the best orgasm I’d ever experienced – three times in one night. That was unexpected and certainly a rare phenomenon for me. Somehow, I wasn’t feeling the excitement of the win. In fact, to me, Jamal was the winner in this.

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