Laws of Attraction (After Hours)

One

Kelly Brandon’s career began with black Decoltish Louboutins, a gray pinstripe pantsuit, diamond stud earrings and a speech she’d rewritten no less than ten times in the last twenty-four hours.

Takana Rivers is very brave in her decision to speak out against the unlawful treatment she was subjected to at the hands of Ronnel Chambers. I applaud her for daring to stand strong in the hope that she can stop this from happening to another woman.

Kelly paused for effect. Or rather to take a deep, calming breath. Her heart rate steadily quickened as she continued to read each word of her five-minute introduction for today’s press conference. Her shoulders were squared and she stood tall and strong behind the podium that had been set up in the front lobby of the Baltimore City office of Page & Associates—one of the largest law firms in the city where she’d worked as an associate for the last year and a half. But that was a charade. She’d rehearsed this statement numerous times and last night had paced the floors of her high-rise Canton apartment convincing herself that she was doing the right thing and that Kamrin would be proud of her.

We implore Ronnel Chambers and his legal team to take a long, hard look at the complaint that has been filed, and to do the right thing, Kelly continued.

There were dozens of people crowding the space leading to the bank of elevators, camera lights flashed incessantly as recorders and additional microphones were thrust in her direction. All eyes were on her and she was determined to make it count. She was determined to seek justice for the woman standing behind her, in a way that she’d never been allowed to do for her twin sister.

Takana Rivers is not standing here today, ready to tell the world her story solely in the hope of financial gain. She is standing here today as an intercessor for others who still live in fear. She is sharing her story so that she might give other women who have shared her experience a voice.

To give Kamrin Lisette Brandon a voice.

Page & Associates are proud to represent her, Kelly finished. She paused and tried valiantly to push back the lump which had formed in her throat at the memory of her sister, and all that she’d gone through before taking her last breath. Kelly gave a brief nod to the crowd of reporters who were already hurling questions in her direction and took a step away from the podium.

Derrick Holmes, the managing partner, would take it from here. He would stand at his full six-foot stature and give his most charming smile, while smoothly dodging questions that might reveal case strategy or too many client details. All Kelly and her client had to do now was stand there and not look like their lives would be forever altered from this moment on.

A long fifteen minutes passed before Derrick bid everyone a cheerful farewell and declared the press conference over. Reporters still clamored for answers to their questions and camera flashes continued to snap, but Kelly was more than through. She’d known the moment her former college roommate, Takana, had showed up at her apartment and downed almost a bottle of pinot noir before opening up about her experience with the baseball player, that this case was going to be unlike anything she could imagine.

It was also the biggest case she’d had the chance to handle during her eighteen months at the firm. After a one-year appellate clerkship where she’d done nothing but write one opinion after another, Kelly had been eager to dip her feet into the litigation pool. Unfortunately, after receiving the job offer of a lifetime at one of the city’s most prestigious firms, she’d been relegated to answering discovery and drafting responses to motions and briefs. This case would be her first time sitting at the trial table in a courtroom. If it went that far.

You did great up there, Jayda said as she looped her arm through Kelly’s and fell into step beside her while she walked through the lobby.

Derrick had shuffled Takana down the hall toward the stairs that would lead up one floor to his office. Kelly was supposed to meet them there in ten minutes.

It was tougher than I thought it would be, she admitted to Jayda.

That’s how you know it’s going to be worth it, Jayda continued. You’re going to win this case for her and make this firm a hell of a lot of money in the process. Your future as a partner here just got a little brighter.

Kelly and Jayda began working at the firm in the same month. But while Kelly was in litigation, Jayda had found her dream position in the corporate department.

Not if Derrick has anything to do with it, Kelly said when they turned the last corner and came to the hallway where the associates’ smaller offices were.

Kelly walked into hers and went straight to her desk. Opening the bottom drawer, she retrieved her purse and then leaned forward to tap the keys on her laptop until it came to life.

I have to get upstairs before he starts paging me, Kelly told Jayda who had already sat in one of the guest chairs and crossed her long legs.

Why didn’t he just let her come to the office with you? He’s been doing so much lately, Jayda quipped.

Kelly agreed with a nod as she continued to scroll quickly through her emails. Nothing she couldn’t respond to when she returned, so she moved away from the desk and slipped the purse strap over her shoulder. She pulled her cell phone out of her jacket pocket and paused as her lock screen background became visible. The snapshot was of her and Kamrin the day they graduated from law school. Kelly had decided to wear a pearl-gray dress while Kamrim the more vivacious of the two, wore a bold black and white stripped dress and coordinating white jacket. Their smiles were brilliant, pride and excitement evident in their stance. But Kamrin’s eyes were different in the picture, Kelly could see that now. Her breath caught and tears misted her eyes before she blinked furiously to keep them from falling. Swiping the background away with her finger, Kelly made a mental note of a text message notice from her mother because that was bound to be bad. Time consuming and nerve wrecking was more like it. She locked her phone again and slipped it back into her pocket.

Don’t I know it, she said, jumping right back into the conversation with Jayda. But I’m headed up there now. The car I reserved that dropped Takana off this morning is waiting on Redwood Street.

Is the plan to take her down the service elevator? What are you going to do after that? Those reporters may have cleared off this floor by now, but I’m betting they’ll be camped out downstairs trying to get more pictures and hopefully a quote from Takana. They’re so disgusting.

Kelly agreed with Jayda about the reporters.

No. I ‘m going to take her down the service elevator and through Maggie’s and use their side entrance on Redwood to make our escape. Hopefully none of the reporters are hungry and sitting in there grabbing lunch. They’re disgusting and guileless, but we need them, especially for this case. The more media coverage we can get, the more likely Ronnel’s fans will rally against him, forcing him to pay up.

Yeah, you’re right, Jayda said. But I still should have pushed that one that asked Takana if she were the groupie that had been stalking Ronnel for the last four months.

Jayda had finally stood, her short cap of bronze frosted hair framing a pixie-like face. Kelly looked over her shoulder at her as she walked toward the door and smiled. Then I would have to stop by Central Booking to bail you out after I dropped Takana off at her apartment.

Oh no, I wasn’t about to get caught. I told you I ran track in high school and college, Jayda replied.

They chuckled as they walked down the hall and were just about to head toward the elevators when Kelly stopped.

Once again, her heart thumped wildly in her chest. Her body went still and she couldn’t stop staring.

Girl, what’s your problem? You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Jayda was saying.

Kelly didn’t look at her. She couldn’t. She could only stare at him.

He was talking on his cell phone and waiting for the elevator. Tall, muscled—even dressed in a black suit and shiny dress shoes, she remembered his body’s build—and domineering. It was him.

No. It couldn’t be. Not after all this time.

Why would he show up here? Now?

Kelly? Jayda called to her but was now pulling on her arm as well.

What? Kelly replied. Oh, I’m sorry. I mean, nothing’s wrong. Just thought I’d left something in my office.

Ah, ok, well if so, you’d better leave it there because Derrick just had you paged, Jayda told her as she rolled her eyes upward to their overhead paging system.

With an irritated sigh, Kelly walked toward the elevators. There was no one there now. His elevator must have come. Of course, it had, she told herself as she pressed the UP button. That’s what happened when people waited for elevators. Besides, it wasn’t him. It couldn’t be.

At least she prayed it wasn’t.

Seeing her blind date turned one-night stand from six months ago was not on her agenda today.

Seven hours had passed since he’d last seen her. Six months and three days, since the time before when she’d lay sleeping in his arms as the sun broke through the early morning clouds.

Sterling shook his head to clear his mind of that memory. He’d thought he’d buried it a while ago, but it was back with a vengeance. He stepped slowly off the elevator, walking in measured steps across the dark gray carpet of the office. This was his second time walking this path today. The first time he’d been sure to pay the front desk attendant in the building’s main lobby enough so that there would be no questions when he returned. Because he’d known he would be back. He didn’t have any other choice.

The location of her office had cost him more than the two hundred dollars he’d given that attendant. He’d actually had to ask the receptionist, who’d been vigilantly guarding the front desk at Page & Associates, for her phone number to get the information he wanted. Of course, he had no intention of ever calling her, just as he hadn’t called Kelly Brandon after their first date.

Rubbing a hand down his bearded jaw, Sterling realized that was no longer his only item of contention with the tenacious litigator.

Most of the office was dark, computers sat on desks in empty cubicles that would be filled with employees come tomorrow morning at nine. Tomorrow was Friday and Sterling was looking forward to wrapping up loose ends on a prior case and finally getting a handle on this new incident. He had statements already prepared and ready to go out to the press on his command, while his investigator was firming up his final report of the incident and would have it on Sterling’s desk no later than noon tomorrow. He could finish early at the office for a change and head to Prince George’s County to visit his Aunt Lola a bit before the baby shower for his cousin, Andie. Family was first—that’s the way they’d been brought up. Aunt Lola had been sure to keep that, among many of their other Afro-Caribbean customs and traditions after moving from Trinidad to the U.S. just before Sterling was born. In the last year, Sterling had become so busy with his company, he’d almost forgotten that fact. But he planned to make amends.

He stopped at the closed door, pushing back all thoughts of the aunt who’d raised him after his mother’s death.

There was a plaque beside the door with Kelly’s name in bold white print. He stared at it for a couple seconds before he realized he was either stalling or gathering his nerve. Both things he didn’t do often. But it wasn’t everyday a guy had to face the first woman to ever rattle his ego in a way that had him racing to get away from her before she could do any further damage. Still, there were more important matters at this moment. This visit was about business.

He knocked on the door.

Come in, was the reply from inside the office.

He turned the knob and pushed the door open. He stepped inside and let his gaze rest on her again. It was different looking at her now, as she sat in the high-back office chair, behind a desk covered in papers and dual computer screens in front of her. This afternoon he’d had an unfettered view of her standing at that podium speaking as if she could become the nation’s first woman African American president.

Sterling froze.

Much as he did in the first few minutes after Kelly had stood behind those microphones this afternoon. He was mesmerized by her and shocked by how swift and potent that feeling overtook him each time he saw her.

Kelly Brandon, twenty-nine-year-old graduate of Brighton Cape University and the University of Maryland Francis King Carey School of Law. Five feet nine inches of subtle curves and deep sepia-toned skin. Her black hair hung straight past her shoulders, feathered back stylishly at her face. Full lips were glossed while brown eyes widened in shock.

Hello, Kelly, he said, when his brain was finally able to process the simple greeting.

She sat up straighter in the chair, her hands moving from her keyboard to fall into her lap. Sterling Layne, she replied.

Well, at least she remembered his name. Sterling wondered if there was anything else about their one and only date that she recalled.

It’s good to see you again, he said and took another few steps until he was standing beside a hunter green guest chair across from her desk.

It’s been six months, she said as she looked up to him. And it’s nine-thirty in the evening. What are you doing in my office?

He could do business first. They should probably only do business. Wasn’t that why he’d refused to call her after their night together? Because there was something about her that warned him not to get too personal.

Sterling pushed the side of his jacket back and slipped a hand into his front pant pocket. I saw your press conference earlier today.

One neatly arched eyebrow lifted. You did?

It was broadcasted live on all the local stations and picked up by the national outlets not even an hour later. Suing ace pitcher Ronnel Chambers is a big deal, he told her.

Ballplayers abusing women is a bigger deal, she quipped.

He nodded his agreement.

We’re on the same page, Sterling said. That’s why I’m here to help you.

She smiled. His gut clenched.

I don’t believe I need your help, Sterling. But thanks so much for the kind offer.

She stood, came around the desk and walked past him. The perfume she wore smelled like honey and roses. When he turned to see where she was going, he caught a glimpse of her ass swaying in the fitted pants she wore. Her blouse was white, long sleeved and cool like her demeanor. She touched the knob of the door and turned back to face him.

You can go now, she announced.

No, she hadn’t forgotten their one night together. He could tell by the momentary flicker of desire he’d seen in her eyes as she’d continued to stare at him when he walked in. Yes, she was giving him a stellar dismissal now. That meant she was still pissed that he hadn’t called her back. That could be a good or a bad sign, if he were inclined to believe in such frivolities. But Sterling was a man of facts and solutions. Action and reaction. So instead of taking her not-so-subtle hint, he pulled his hand from his pocket and moved back. He leaned on the edge of her desk, crossed his legs at the ankle and folded his arms over his chest.

Or I can tell you that I’ve already initiated a full background check on Takana Rivers. In a matter of hours, I’ll know everything about her. From the second she was born, to this afternoon when the rented Lincoln Town Car drove her to her residence in Bolton Hill.

And the eyes that previously flashed with desire switched to intrigue, and then irritation, as Kelly closed her office door.

Sterling smiled as she faced him once more.

This woman still intrigued the hell out of him. She lifted one perfectly shaped eyebrow and he said, I thought that would change your mind.

Two

This was the part where all the self-control she could muster was required and the cool aloofness she’d honed during trial team competitions came in to play.

Kelly walked past Sterling again, but this time on steadier legs. Every part of her body was poised and moved with precision. Even though she was a jittery mess on the inside. She moved to stand behind her desk once more, surrounding herself with the safety of what she knew well. To her left was a shelf full of books—some on law, grammar and punctuation, the Civil Rights Movement, fashion and the best places to dine in Baltimore. To her right, another shelf with the coffee mugs she collected on top and her case files stored neatly and alphabetically beneath. Behind her, on the wall above the chair was a framed black and white print of Maya Angelou’s Phenomenal Woman. She pulled the chair out and sat down slowly.

He hadn’t moved from where he’d perched himself on the other side of her desk. That wasn’t enough distance. Still, she was determined to think beyond the broad span of his back and shoulders and the alluring earthy scent of his cologne. It would be better if he were standing near the door as he had when he’d first arrived. She would be able to handle this confrontation or meeting, or whatever it was, better. But as it stood, he was giving her no choice but to adhere to the situation at hand. That thought struck her as ironic considering the type of case she was currently working on.

Had Takana been in a similar situation when she’d tried to protect herself, and her job, against Ronnel Chambers? Had Kamrin?

You own a PR firm in D.C., Kelly said abruptly to break through her unwanted thoughts. Why are you in Baltimore following my client?

He moved slowly. She would say methodically, but it looked