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All Her Little Secrets(80)

Author:Wanda M. Morris

“Excuse me?” I backed up a couple steps, still thinking through my exit from this office if he tried to grab me. “Get out! Now!”

I paced toward the door. Jonathan hung on my heels. We reached the door at the same time. I grabbed the doorknob just as Jonathan placed his weight against the door and grinned at me.

His eyes locked with mine. “You know, I can appreciate you decided to fuck your way into the executive suite. But you need to be more careful now that you’re up here.”

I felt my eyes grow wide with disbelief.

“Come on. You’re a smart gal. You know we can’t go around making such lavish offers of promotion to the executive suite without doing our . . . what do you lawyers call it? Due diligence. I use a little firm out of Savannah. They put together all the glorious highlights of your climb out of that shithole called Chillicothe. They’re pretty good, too. Do you know they even managed to tell me you got a B in high school chemistry? The only B in your entire four years at that swanky boarding school. You’re smart. Very smart.”

My skin prickled. “What did you say?” I stared into Jonathan’s eyes. Two black holes of evil stared back at me.

“That’s right. I know all your dirty little secrets.” He chuckled. “So the police said your brother ran into the wrong end of a gun. I didn’t know you had a brother. Most of the folks around here didn’t know it either. But you know what? My friends down in Savannah knew about him though. You know what else they told me? They said your brother’s not the only black sheep of the family.”

My knees buckled. Jonathan’s words landed like a hard jab to the chest.

“Tell me something. How did you manage to get out unscathed and leave your poor brother behind to waffle in and out of jail?” Jonathan leaned in closer. “You decided to leave all those secrets behind for the big bright lights of Atlanta, huh? By the way, you been back to Chillicothe lately?”

I slowly released my hand from the doorknob.

“Seems you’re not exactly the self-righteous do-gooder you make everyone around here believe you are. All your talk about legal ethics and doing the right thing. Yeah, right! A little piece of advice since you’re new around here. If you want to continue to keep your little family secrets undercover, I suggest you waltz your uppity Black ass into Nate’s office, tell him we talked and you’re good with the Libertad deal and any other deal I bring into this company to make money. And since we’re on the subject of Nate, Willow tells me you have a problem with the way we do things around here. I suggest you keep that little nugget under your hair weave, too.” He laughed again, louder this time.

“Fuck you!”

“Nice. Just about what I expected from someone like you. If I hear you’ve uttered a word to a board member about our little business operation, I’ll destroy you.”

I stood cemented to the floor like Lot’s wife from the Bible, turning into a pillar of fear instead of salt.

“And as for the police, it’s probably not a good idea to direct them to me again. You might not like what I have to tell them.” He placed an index finger to his lips. “Remember . . . shhh. All this is our little secret. If you don’t tell, I won’t tell.” He glanced down at his watch and gave a sly grin before he opened the door and strolled out of my office.

And for the first time in my entire professional life I did something I’d never done. I cried in my office.

Chapter 29

Every lie you tell, every secret you keep, is a fragile little thing that must be protected and accounted for. One misstep, one miscalculation, and your safe little treasures can topple the perfect life you’ve built around them. This became all too real to me after Jonathan’s threat. Everything I had worked so hard to protect—my career, my reputation, my secrets—were on the brink of being exposed. I hated Jonathan. I finally understood why Michael was consulting a white-collar defense attorney. He knew Jonathan was laundering dirty money. But if Jonathan thought he could kill my brother and threaten me without paying for it, he was sadly mistaken.

Killing Sam would be the worst mistake he ever made.

Jonathan left. A few minutes later, my landline rang. I jumped. I didn’t recognize the number, so I decided to let it roll over. Anita could answer and take a message. Moments later, Anita eased in the door of my office, her face sad and filled with concern. I dabbed at the corner of my eyes, trying to wipe away the tears without her seeing.

“What is it, Anita?”

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