But Brax didn’t take advantage of inebriated women, so he’d gotten a reprieve. And Meera herself wasn’t the only issue. Carissa had known that she’d spent the night in his apartment, not in a guest room downstairs, which meant his darling wife had a mole inside the building. In a business that involved so many secrets, a breach of trust was of great concern.
He emailed Alexa.
Call me.
Two seconds later…
You forgot the “please.”
Alexa called anyway—the lack of a “please” was an old joke between them. But she didn’t call on a regular phone. No, she used an app that had suddenly appeared on his cell one morning. He suspected the app gave her access to everything on the device, but even if he removed it, she’d find another way to dig through his life. Alexa didn’t give up. A quality he intended to utilise for his own purposes.
“What’s the problem?” she asked. “Did you accidentally sleep with your new assistant?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because you got a call from Carissa and then emailed me right after. And then Carissa called her lawyer.”
“Well, I didn’t sleep with Meera, but she stayed in my apartment last night. The one in LA. And Carissa found out about it.”
“Ah.”
“Exactly. She has a source here feeding her information, and I need to know who it is.”
“Let me check a few things…” A full minute passed as Brax paced the great room. “She’s only received six calls today: two from her friend Danielle, one from her mother, one from Saks Fifth Avenue, one from the Elements Spa, and another from Bruce. That’s her tennis coach, right? He’s one of yours?”
“Yes, he’s one of mine.”
“Zilch in her emails. Either she’s using a burner phone, or Danielle is involved. Or her mother.”
“Her mother probably called to give her a pep talk.Why is this taking so long?”
If Carissa Dunn was a gold digger, then Madeleine Dunn drove the backhoe. She’d been married six times and divorced five, including twice in the years Brax had known her, trading her way up into an Upper East Side penthouse. Husband number six was a retired investment banker, and according to Alexa, he’d been suffering from heart problems. Perhaps Madeleine had decided to give widowhood a try this time? That wouldn’t have surprised Brax one bit.
During the early days of his relationship with Carissa, he hadn’t realised just how often the two women spoke. Carissa had barely mentioned her mother at all. But after the wedding, suddenly there she was, sticking her nose into their business at every possible opportunity.
“Bet Carissa’s asking the same thing about her new stepfather. If Madeleine orders rat poison, we’ll know what’s coming. Hmm. Maybe I should check her credit card statements?”
“Can we focus on the Dunnvale issue first? I don’t like having a traitor in our midst. And besides, Madeleine will need a year or so to jack up her new hubby’s life insurance.”
“Yeah, I’ll take a look.”
“I’ll send funds to the usual place.”
“You don’t have to.”
This was another dance they did every time. Alexa always refused payment, but for Brax, that wasn’t an option. He’d feel guilty for requesting these favours otherwise. So they’d agreed on a compromise: Alexa did the work, and Brax made a donation to Project AVA, an organisation that helped young people running from violence and abuse. It was a cause close to Alexa’s heart.
“Yes, I do have to.”
“Zach’s gonna win the pool on Meera, isn’t he?”
As Brax recalled, Zach had made the longest guess with six weeks. At the time, it seemed like a long shot, but now? If Meera failed to last that long… The hitch in Brax’s chest told him that he didn’t like the idea one bit.
“I hope so,” he said, half to himself.
“Fuck my life, you have to get rid of Carissa.”
“Believe me, I’m trying. I bumped into Grey two weeks ago, and he thinks Carissa had at least one hookup. I’m going to try a different approach—have someone run into her at an event and make a no-strings offer. I doubt she’ll bite, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t attempt it.”