The Home Court Advantage (30 page)

“They own Club 51?” I asked. Felicity didn’t want to meet there because it was a conspiracy club! She wanted us to figure out who owned it!

“Yeah and a few other legit businesses. I suspect they probably use them somehow to launder the proceeds from their less than legit enterprises.”

“Hill Group? Like the Fanny Hill Club?” Cam asked.

“That’s right,” Derek said with a lascivious smile, “Like the Fanny Hill club and a very high-priced ring of society call girls. Veronica’s not really the Madame – she just runs the parties. Marla’s the Madame. Roland does the books and Cole, at least in the past, helped to smooth the path with the local politicos and made sure nobody bothered them with any pesky new regulations.”

“So they would have been nervous if someone like Ben Ginsberg, who’s helping legislators in New York to clean up crooked business practices, started giving Senator Pierce any ideas for similar legislation in his own constituency,” Adam summarized.

“Yeah, if that happened it could shut them down,” Cam added.

“So the question is, what were they going to try to do about it?” Braden asked.

“According to what we heard, they wanted to ‘take Gabrielle out of the picture’.” Adam said in his most intimidating prosecutorial voice. “I wonder if this is going to turn into a murder for hire investigation.”

“What?!” My father looked apoplectic. “If I find out that you had any intention of harming my daughter you’ll wish that a criminal prosecution was your worst problem.” His voice was colder and more deadly than I had ever heard it. Wow.

“Homicide?! Are you people nuts?! Nobody wanted to kill her! They just wanted them to break up, that’s all! Marla tried to get her pissed off at him by acting like the crazy ex-girlfriend and then Cole tried to seduce her away and when that didn’t work they tried to get her to leave by freaking her out a little. They had me write and deliver a couple of anonymous notes. I even followed her all the way to her parents’ place in New York. Not even that worked though! Finally, they just had me follow them around. Eventually, everybody does something dirty and I figured that I would just be there to witness it. Then maybe they could get them to agree to keep their dads out of our business, you know?”

“In other words blackmail us,” Braden said coldly.

“Semantics,” Walker said with a sneer.

“They didn’t realize that someone had overheard them, someone who may seem weird on the outside but is basically a decent person on the inside, and who appreciates it when people are nice to her,” I added quietly. I had been too quick to judge Felicity. Her parents probably had all kinds of criminal associations. Trying to warn me took courage.

“Well, even if your story turns out to be true,” Adam said, “sending someone anonymous threatening notes and following them around are enough for us to charge you.”

“And I think that a thorough investigation of the Hill Group might be warranted,” Senator Pierce said. “Don’t you agree Ben?”

“Absolutely, Tyler. In fact I would be happy to help out. Perhaps it will even lead to some new legislation regulating business reporting practices.”

“Which I would be happy to help out with,” Tyler replied with a smile. It looked like the kingmaker and the senator would be working together. Who knew, maybe it would even lead to the White House someday.

“I think that maybe Marla, Cole and the Masons may wind up with a bit more than just probation after all,” Braden said with satisfaction. The cops took Walker away and checking our watches we realized that we were five minutes late for our own wedding so we all headed downstairs.

“I guess you were right after all, Gabrielle,” Braden said. “You had those three pegged from the beginning.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t realize everything that was behind it, and I didn’t realize it was all of them working together. Very Agatha Christie.” I smiled.

I went in to freshen up quickly and then we went downstairs. Judge Channing was waiting patiently for us. It was only our parents, Braden’s brother and sister and our closest friends who were with us. That was the way we had wanted it. Before we started Judge Channing asked to make a few remarks. He cleared his throat and spoke, mostly to our parents.

“Several months ago,” he began, “we started assigning lawyers to specific courtrooms and Mr. Pierce and Ms. Ginsberg were assigned to mine. I could see right away that there was a spark between them. They were always stealing looks at each other.” He smiled as if remembering. “I often wondered if they would eventually get together and I knew right away when they had, because they both looked really happy. Criminal law is a tough job and it can really get to you. I’m glad that these two have had each other to lean on. They’re both first-class lawyers and it’s been an honor to work with them.” He actually sounded a little emotional. I couldn’t believe it.

“Thank you, Your Honor,” I said and then I went over and I shook his hand. What the hell. Braden got up and did the same.

“So, now, let’s get you two married before any other crazy stuff happens,” he said, back to his gruff self. We went through the simple civil ceremony and Braden and I took our vows. We promised to love, honor and cherish each other, to always be faithful and to remain together through sickness and health until death did us part. Finally the judge pronounced us man and wife, and my beautiful blonde Braden, my husband, kissed me. I was lost in that romantic dreamy moment when I heard a yip. Bruno had hopped off of Aunt Beth’s lap and came over to beg to be picked up. At least he wasn’t trying to play the humping game anymore.

The guests had assembled in the Grand Ballroom and our dads went in to make the happy announcement that we had just been married. I heard surprised murmurs and then applause. Then I heard Braden’s dad introduce us for the first time in public as Mr. and Mrs. Braden Pierce and with tears in my eyes I let my husband escort us into the ballroom. The applause got much louder. He guided me to the middle of the dance floor, in front of a stage where a lone guitarist stood. And then Stan began to play Louis Armstrong’s
What A Wonderful World
and as we danced, I have to say that I agreed.

Coming 2014

CHAPTER ONE

I sat staring at my friend Bruce over my drink. The lights and pounding music of the club combined with the alcohol to make my head feel a little fuzzy. It was just as well, though, since I was bored out of my mind and numbness seemed like a desirable goal. Our co-worker, Marilyn’s, boyfriend, who she had been dating for a million years, had finally popped the question and we were out “celebrating”. So to speak. Librarians weren’t generally known as wild party animals.

Bruce and I were considered the “risqué ones” of the bunch, which was a big joke to us. He was only “risqué” because his partner of seven years, with whom he had a happily monogamous relationship and contented home life, just happened to be of the same sex he was. I, on the other hand, was “risqué” because I wrote erotic romance novels or “dirty books” as my co-workers would say. It didn’t matter that my own love life was dryer than the Sahara at the moment. They considered me raunchy and possibly a little dangerous. Right.

Marilyn, Jane, and Rochelle, sat around and watched in scandalized astonishment as the “playas” around us picked up women on the make. I don’t know what the library gang had expected to experience here; tea and crumpets with the Queen? This club was the new “hot spot” in the city, and thus, it was the most fertile hunting grounds for young and beautiful Philadelphians searching for relationships of extremely short duration. The other librarians thought this club was cool, and hip, and sexy. Bruce and I realized, of course, that it was just trendy. It was Junior High School with a liquor license. Even though we were unimpressed, though, we were both basically kind people, so we pretended that this was all very exciting.

“Did you see that?!” Jane asked sounding like she had just witnessed someone commit a crime. “The way they were dancing, they might as well have been having intercourse.” And yes, she really did just say “intercourse”. Jane had derived her sexual vocabulary from her sixth grade health class. I could just imagine her in the throes of passion. ‘Don’t stop inserting your penis into my vagina! I’m going to achieve orgasm’!

“The guy doesn’t have any rhythm,” Bruce commented. “He’s probably a lousy lay.” He was just noting it idly, and I agreed without giving it much thought, but the other three broke into blushes and giggles. It was all I could do not to roll my eyes. These girls were the types who would blush and giggle reading a Victoria’s Secret catalogue. I tried to remember again why I was there. Celebrating. We’re celebrating. Yippee. I slurped my drink.

I shouldn’t be complaining. It’s not like I had anything better to do on a Saturday night. I worked every day as a research librarian and then went home and wrote books. On Sunday evenings I got together with some girlfriends of mine, and Bruce and his partner, Jason, had been inviting me over for dinner more often lately. Sometimes I even went out on dates. The guys were nice; some were even charming, but let’s just say that the Earth didn’t move for me. Truthfully, I wasn’t even sure that I wanted nice. Not that I wanted to date some guy who treated me badly either. I just want someone who sparked some kind of … reaction. It was November and getting colder in more ways than one. That summer and early fall had been more interesting. A guy who I had being doing battle with since childhood seemed to suddenly start looking at me like a desirable woman and that had, most definitely, created a reaction!

It certainly inspired my writing! I wrote some really spicy love scenes with him in mind. In fact, the book that I had just published had a tall, well-built hero with dark brown hair, laughing brown eyes and just a touch of five o’clock shadow. The heroine had voluminous brown locks, big brown eyes and long lashes. It didn’t take Sigmund Freud to figure out that I was describing Adam and me, and oh boy, did
they
get down and dirty! Let’s face it, I had written my sexual fantasies into a romance novel. Hell, if I couldn’t have a real “happily ever after” at least I could make one up.

Although we had been mortal enemies since the first day of preschool, the minute that Adam Roth had begun to direct his over-abundant sexual energy my way, it had felt like a tsunami rolling over me. The tension between us had built and finally one night he had almost kissed me and I had almost let him. We were interrupted though. And the next time we were alone together it was at the wedding of our close friends. He seemed distracted and we went our separate ways without a word about our “almost kiss” and with no plans to see each other again.

Even if we had seen each other, though, it wouldn’t have mattered. Adam was a womanizer so I didn’t expect anything to ever develop. His friend Braden, the groom in said wedding, had been too, but not like Adam, I suspected. As if to underscore that fact, when I was on my third Martini Bruce’s gaze became riveted by something over my left shoulder.

“Uh oh,” he mouthed. Our three co-workers were engrossed in conversation about the way some of the women in this place were (shockingly!) aggressively flirting with the men. In any event, the ladies’ sewing circle wasn’t paying us any attention so Bruce and I spoke freely, or more like shouted freely.