Lies Lovers Tell (5 page)

Sean watched Joseph Rosenthal carefully examine the documents he’d given him. There was no doubt Zeke Brennan was into some shading dealings when it came to the lock he had on the Los Angeles real estate market; the problem was in finding concrete proof.

“Councilman Rollins, the city treasurer…I knew it! I knew Brennan’s cock ran the length of city hall. He’s got guys in his back pocket, and an inside track to winning the most coveted contracts.” Joseph smacked the papers down on his desk, then jumped up to pace the room. “But how do we catch him? How do we nail the sonofabitch?”

“These things take time,” Sean said evenly. He’d learned long ago that when it came to private investigations, patience was a man’s best friend. “My sources are one hundred percent reliable, and thorough. But getting solid proof that Zeke Brennan is behind the corruption is another matter altogether. We’ve got to secure wiretaps, cameras…I’m working on an inside connection for the council meetings, and another for the mayor’s office.

“But you’ve got to understand something,” he continued, leaning back into the plush leather seats, his calm a purposefully measured contrast to Joseph’s barely concealed rage. “You’re trying to bring down the top real estate mogul in Los Angeles, and one of the most powerful tycoons in the United States. This isn’t going to happen overnight. Just like when constructing a building, the blocks have to be laid in place one by one, piece by piece, with precision. You’ve got to keep your head, Joseph. If you’re looking for a rush to judgment, you’ve got the wrong situation, and you’ve definitely got the wrong man. There are a lot of poisonous spiders in this web of deception. One wrong move and the hunter will become the prey.”

Joseph returned to his desk. He placed his elbows on top of the polished cherry-wood executive desk. He steepled his fingers and looked into Sean’s eyes without blinking. “Listen Sean, the Rosenthal Group has been around for almost a hundred years. We didn’t get to where we are without knowing a thing or two. Of course, I’m well aware that these things take time. But time is something I don’t have a lot of.

“Projects like this don’t come along often. It’s why almost every major firm in the world is vying for it. But make no mistake, the Angel’s Way project belongs to me, to the Rosenthal Group. We’ve earned it, we deserve it, and it will be ours!”

From his research, Sean knew Joseph was right. La Manera de Angel, translated Angel’s Way, had been commissioned by the state of California and was to be for Los Angeles what the Golden Gate Bridge was to San Francisco, what the Eiffel Tower was to Paris, or what the Twin Towers were to New York: one of a kind. It was to become the jewel of L.A. real estate, a maze of shops, offices, restaurants, and theatres anchored by a cultural center and museum celebrating the richness of Los Angeles. The top floor of what would also be the tallest building in the United States, would house a world-class, five-star restaurant and viewing arena. The landscaped surroundings were to include parks, fountains and a large angel statue that would exceed fifty feet in height. There’d never in the history of California been a building project this significant, and there probably would not be another one for at least a hundred years. This was all the more reason why caution, not carelessness, was of the utmost importance in this investigation.

When Sean remained silent, Joseph continued. “Our company has been working for over five years to expose the corruption that’s allowing Brennan and his cronies to gain a monopoly on the permits issued for the big jobs. Last year we were this close”—Joseph held his thumb and forefinger close together—“this close to getting his former general manager imprisoned for bribery and fraud.”

“And the case got thrown out at the last minute,” Sean interjected, “because the prosecutor got excited. He started eyeing his promotion, maybe a bid for attorney general. He started seeing his name in the news, his face on TV. He got in a
hurry
. And that’s why I’m sitting here and you’re still trying to expose Zeke Brennan.”

Sean knew all about the former case against Brennan & Associates. It was his business to know. Aside from what had been headline news, Sean had uncovered insider information about the case, information that also sullied the Rosenthal Group’s squeaky clean image they tried so hard to maintain. Sean made it his business to know everything about all the players in his assignment, especially the one who hired him.

“Look, Sean, we know you’re one of the best. That’s why we hired you.” Joseph said. “But I’m going to be honest, I’ve got to get this contract. And for that to happen, we’ve got to break the juggernaut Zeke’s got on the L.A. market!” Joseph smashed his fist against his desk for emphasis.

“What do you know about Zeke’s assistant, Maya Jamison?”

Sean’s abrupt change of subject caught Joseph off guard. “Maya? Smart cookie there. Honors grad at USC, majored in business administration with a minor in international relations. She worked her way up from the secretarial pool. Heard it was quite a coup when she knocked Zeke’s former right-hand woman off her perch a year ago. Word is Zeke threw money at the situation, his usual answer for solving problems, gave her a hefty severance and an early retirement plan.”

“Hmm.”

“You’ve met Maya, right? In the meetings you had with Zeke? Well, of course you have, she’s always in his meetings.”

“Actually no, I haven’t, at least not so far. Both times I’ve been there she’s been out of the office. Another assistant, Jade, sat in on them.”

“She’s quite the looker, that Maya.” Joseph rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Hey, that might be a way to—”

“Don’t even go there, Joseph.”

“C’mon, it’s perfect. You’re a successful, nice-looking man. She’s a successful, attractive woman. You’re both single, at least, I think she is. What easier way is there to get on the inside than to, you know, get on the
inside
?” Joseph chuckled at his double entendre.

“First, I don’t mix business with pleasure and second, she’s not my type.” Sean’s mind immediately went to his type: a freaky, feisty, curvaceous Tootsie Roll named Macy Williams.

Joseph took in Sean’s suddenly stern countenance. “Look, I’ve got faith in you to get the job done. Just make it sooner rather than later, okay?”

“As soon as I possibly can.”

Sean left the Rosenthal Group’s office a few moments later. But it was he and Macy, not Zeke and Maya, on his mind. Thinking of the two women, he was struck by their contrast. From what he’d read and the picture he’d seen, Maya was a prudish, ambitious, and serious woman while Macy was almost the opposite: fiery, sensuous and carefree. He continued to think about Macy as he headed to his rental car.
I need to call her.
He’d been so busy since the holiday that his personal life had gone neglected. And obviously Macy wasn’t the type to hound him. After calling once, the Monday after their trip to Catalina Island, she hadn’t phoned again.

The smile that thoughts of Macy put on his face disappeared when he thought about the other women in his life, Tangier and Martha. Tangier had called several times over the Fourth of July holiday, had even suggested flying over from London. Sean adamantly insisted she stay put in England. She responded by increasing her calls to three, four a day. Eventually he stopped answering and for the past couple of days, he hadn’t heard from her. He liked Tangier; she was witty, intelligent, and looked good on his arm. But he’d never thought of her in permanent terms, and thought she understood his number-one dating rule: no binding ties. She probably wouldn’t call again. After all, a woman had her pride. He didn’t know that he’d call her either, or even if he’d return to London once his job was done. He’d lived across the pond for two years; being in L.A. reminded him of all that was good about America. Macy reminded him of all things good too, maybe even someone with whom he could entertain “permanent.”

And then there was the other irksome female—Martha. He didn’t know what it was about her that bugged him so much, but something surely did. Maybe it was her mousy demeanor, or servile body language. Maybe it was the way she tried to shrink into invisibility whenever he was around, which wasn’t often. Maybe it was the fact that he felt she was throwing her life away, when she could go back to school and secure a better job than wash dishes and make beds.

“It’s not my business,” Sean said aloud as he looked for a parking place in busy Beverly Hills, his next business stop. Besides, he continued to reason, somebody had to get paid to cook, clean, and perform other domestic chores. Sean decided it was just as well the money was going to a sista. He needed to tamp down his annoyance and leave the girl alone.

“That’s all you’ve got so far? A portfolio from the Rosenthal Group sticking out of his briefcase?” Zeke leaned back in his chair and studied Maya thoughtfully. “You’re normally so resourceful, Maya. I thought you’d have something more concrete than that by now. Something in his personal files, drivers’s license, passport, credit cards, correspondence, some way to know this guy is really who he says he is…or not.”

Maya stanched a heavy sigh. She wasn’t happy with her results either; one of two things she was unhappy about. There’d be enough time to stew on that issue later, though; right now she had to focus on B&A.

“In the weeks I’ve worked in that house, there’s never a scrap of paper lying around, not even a napkin from a restaurant, matches, nothing. I’ve still not been able to access the office, or the small closet in the master bedroom that remains locked at all times. It’s going to take a bit more time to gain Cecilia’s trust. She pretty much lets me do my work, but still, I never know when I’ll turn around and find her there, making sure I’m tucking that sheet correctly.” Maya’s sarcasm seeped through on the last sentence.

“Look, I know this isn’t easy. We’ll give it a couple more weeks and if you can’t find anything, we’ll let you keep your day job.”

“Honestly, Zeke, I’m surprised you tried this as your first option, especially with all the top-notch investigators who work for you.”

“You are not my first option, Maya. I know everything there is to know about Sam Walters, the Sam Walters I can find on paper, that is. Sometimes, Maya, you have to go with your gut, follow your hunches. And my hunch is telling me there’s more to Sam than meets the eye. I’m using various options to find out what.” Zeke sat forward and shuffled the papers on his desk, his sign that their meeting was over.

Maya stood. “So…two weeks and I can return to work and start removing the knives that Jade has flung toward my back in my absence?”

Zeke laughed. “Oh, so you’ve heard what’s going on, huh?”

“You’re a great mentor, Zeke. And you always have eyes and ears everywhere.” Maya knew all about Jade’s attempts to head up the administrative arm on all projects related to Angel’s Way.

“Jade’s ambitious, but she’s not Maya Jamison. You have nothing to worry about.”

“I appreciate that, Zeke.” Maya didn’t know how Zeke would handle her inability to get the goods on Sam Walters. She’d seen people chewed up and spit out for lesser failures. But this charade wasn’t over. Maya had two weeks to help Zeke solve the Sam Walters mystery. She vowed to put those days to good use.

Sam Walters
, Maya thought as she stopped by her office. Her sigh was audible this time. Something about that bumbling Black man got on her nerves. He had tons of money. Couldn’t he buy a suit that fit? Get a twenty-first-century haircut? Join a gym? And why did he have to be so curt and dismissive, as if she was too lowly to engage in conversation, and all her instructions had to come through Cecilia? At least that’s how Cecilia made it seem…that a direct look in her lofty boss’s eye could get her fired.

Not that she wanted to talk to him anyway. Hmmph. Little did he know how much she
wanted
to get fired; she couldn’t wait to burn those rubber gloves and get out of his lifeless, impersonal show home. Sam Walters wasn’t worth the riches God had given him. The sooner she finished the assignment, the sooner she could wish Mr. Waddle Walters good riddance.

She was ready to wish another man good riddance as well, only this good-bye wasn’t as easily done: Sean Wynn. Sam and Sean couldn’t be more dissimilar. Sean Wynn had everything Sam Walters lacked: looks, style, sexual magnetism, charm. Even so, it galled her that she’d fallen hard and fast for the sexy boy with a silky line and golden rod. Was it her imagination that her body still tingled days after they’d been together?

Sean had called the evening they returned from Catalina Island on his friend Neil’s boat. That’s the last she’d heard from him. Although she’d reached for her phone countless times, she refused to put in a second call after leaving the first and only message. He probably had plenty women who blew up his cell. No, better to look at the Sean Wynn situation for what it was…a beautiful lovers’ holiday like a fire-cracker’s spark: hot, bright, and temporary.

“Gone so soon?” Ester Rios was the “eyes and ears” who kept Maya informed on the office happenings.

“Unfortunately,” Maya said with a weary smile.

“That research must be really intense, you’ve been gone for what, two weeks now?”

“It’s a lot,” Maya agreed. “But I’ll be back in another week or so.” She leaned closer to Ester and continued in a low voice. “Until then, thanks for looking out for a sista.”

Ester winked. “You know I’ve got your back, girl.”

“And I’ve got yours. Maya never forgets a favor.”

The switchboard lit up, announcing another call. Ester reached to answer it. “That’s what I’m counting on.”

Maya’s phone rang as she headed to the elevator. She found her phone and answered as she always did, just as the doors closed. “Maya Jamison.”

Silence on the other end.

“Hello?” Maya looked down to see the call had ended.

“That always happens to me,” the other elevator occupant offered. “Every service claims theirs has the fewest dropped calls, yet the calls keep dropping!”

“Hey, happens to the best of us,” Maya said, smiling, as the doors opened. The gentleman motioned for her to get out first. As she did, she slipped on her Bluetooth and punched the received calls button to see who she’d missed. Her eyes widened as she noticed the number.
Sean!

“Dang it,” she said, redialing the number and trying to think on the fly. She needed to immediately code Sean’s number with a special ring. How was she going to explain that Maya was Macy?

“Macy?” Sean answered quickly. His voice immediately stirred her sugar.

“Uh, yes, it’s Macy. You just called?”

“I did, but I couldn’t hear anything.”

Thank you, God!
“Can you hear me now?”

“I hear you just fine,” Sean said, his voice a husky whisper.

“Don’t give me that wet-a-woman’s-panties voice,” Maya said, her thoughts of Sean as a “one-weekend wonder” already disappearing. “I called you days ago.”

“I apologize,” Sean said, his voice unchanged. “Duty called, I’ve been swamped. And speaking of work, is it working?”

“What?” Maya asked. She punched the button to unlock her Beemer and slid inside.

“My voice. Are you wet for me, Macy?”

“No,” Maya lied, even as she squeezed her thighs together to quell her vibrating va-jay-jay.

“Can I make you wet for me, Macy?” Sean’s manhood throbbed, and almost doubled in size within seconds.

Maya glanced at the clock on her dash. “Maybe, if you feed me first.” Just days ago, nothing could have torn her away from her work, projects that were backlogged because of her time spent masquerading as “Martha the maid.”

“I’m just finishing an appointment in Beverly Hills. Can I meet you somewhere?”

Maya was just about to pass the 10 Freeway, but she quickly crossed three lanes and hit the 10 West. “I’ll meet you there. There’s a nice little bistro, the Porterhouse, on Wilshire Boulevard. I can be there in about twenty, thirty minutes.” Maya gave Sean the address, then hung up and called Trish.

“He called,” she said simply.

“And?”

“And I’m headed to Beverly Hills to meet him for dinner.”

“Girl, did you lose your rule book? The man hasn’t called for days and when he does, you meet him just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“It must be good is all I’m saying. So, what are you having for dinner, the double ‘d’ special?” Trish asked innocently.

“Forget you, heifa,” Maya laughed. “I might take a lick of that double-dipped ‘d’ for dessert, though.”

“Look, I’m just glad you’re getting some,” Trish said. “Since brotha man ex showed his ‘a’ with your neighbor tramp, all it’s been is work, work, work. I’m glad you’ve found someone, Maya.”

“I wish he were
the
one. I really like him, Trish.”

“Girl, it had been what, six months since you got some? You’d like Flavor Flav if he ate the coochie right.”

Maya guffawed. “You’re a mess. I almost missed my exit.” Maya became serious. “I just have one big problem.”

“What?”

“Remember how I didn’t tell him my name because I thought it was a one-night stand and was doing the what’s done in Vegas stays in—”

“Maya! He still thinks your name is Macy and doesn’t know that you work for
the
Zeke Brennan?”

“No.”

“It’s not like you to be dishonest. But don’t trip; just tell him now.”

If only it were that simple, Maya thought as she hung up the phone. And why wasn’t it? Maya knew the answer. It was because of this crazy duplicitous assignment she was doing for Zeke, the one in which she was sworn to secrecy. Something about Sean seeped into her very soul and she felt if she just cracked the door to truth everything, including what she wasn’t supposed to tell, would come tumbling out. Zeke was a generous man, and she stood to make a high five-figure bonus if he secured the Angel’s Way project, even more if something she found on Sam Walters helped seal the deal. She could not only pay back what she owed him but also gain clout for future projects, clout that would go a long way when she struck out on her own. Just two more weeks, then she could stop hiding and tell Sean who she really was. After hearing the reason, she was sure he’d understand. But there was too much at stake to tell him now.

Less than an hour later, Maya was enjoying her tender porterhouse steak as much as she was the tantalizing sight before her. It was as if no time had passed since she and Sean had seen each other, talking as if they’d been friends for years.

“Why don’t you ever talk about your work?” Sean asked.

Maya shrugged. “Not much to talk about, typing, filing, organizing, things like that.”

“Doesn’t sound like you like it, Macy.” Sean paused to savor his forkful of tender beef. “Have you ever thought about switching careers, doing something you really wanted to do?”

“Sometimes,” was Maya’s vague answer.

Sean took a break from his dinner, leaned back, and crossed his arms. “If you could have the career of your dreams, be anything you wanted…what would that be?”

Maya Jamison, valued executive assistant to real estate mogul Zeke Brennan!
is what Maya thought. “An actress,” is what she blurted out, Trish’s vocation being the first thing she could actually say that came to mind.

“Really?” Sean asked. “For some reason that surprises me. Not that you don’t look like a sexy movie star and all that, but somehow I took you for, I don’t know, more the businesswoman type, running some multimillion-dollar business or something.”

Maya’s mind raced for a way to escape this minefield. Her sudden multipersona life was too tricky.

“What about you?” she asked, to hopefully divert the conversation off her. “You say you’re over here from London, on business, but you haven’t said what type of business.”

Now it was Sean’s turn to squirm. He never talked about his undercover work to anyone…ever. But something about Macy, he trusted her, and wanted her to be a part of his life, his whole life.

“I normally don’t discuss it,” he said after a pause. “But I’m a private investigator.”

Maya’s ears perked up immediately.
Maybe he can help me with this Sam Walters jerk.
“Really? That sounds exciting.”

“Well, the excitement part is overrated,” he countered. “But I do enjoy what I do, and I’m good at it.”

“And if you don’t know, just ask you?” Maya said with a smile in her voice.

“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that. I said that because enjoying what one does normally leads to being good at it. When it’s your passion…you want to be the best.”

Maya wanted more than ever to tell Sean who she was, that she was living her dream, and of her plans to one day own her own company. But something stopped her, namely the memory of Zeke’s stern command.
What we’re doing goes no further than this office, Maya….
That, and the fact that Sean was talking to Macy, not Maya.

“So, have you ever acted?” Sean asked when Maya didn’t respond to what he’d said.

“Who, me?” Just that quickly, Maya forgot that acting was supposed to be her dream job. “Oh, not really…a little, uh, community theater.” Actually she’d enjoyed or rather endured her one and only minor role alongside Trish, who’d pulled her in kicking and screaming when the actor scheduled to perform had gotten sick just hours before showtime. She’d delivered one line to the drag-queen-playing actor opposite her:
Right this way, Mr. Ma’am!

“That’s a start. You just have to keep moving toward your goal, if that’s what you want.” Sean took Maya’s hand. “I believe we can do anything, Macy, have anything our heart desires….”

The naked longing in his eyes told Maya that Sean was no longer thinking about careers. It was the perfect segue into what Maya was thinking about as well: becoming naughty Ms. Macy, ready to ride to the Marina and freak her man. “Anything?” she asked coyly, her eyes mirroring his hunger.

“I think we can order up dessert in my room,” he said, signaling the waiter for the check.

Maya simply smiled, remembering the “double-dipped ‘d’” she discussed with Trish earlier. She’d wanted a special dessert, and she was going to get it…all because as Sean said, she believed.