CHAPTER 36 Everleigh Bradley
Back to Enemies
He throws open the door and glares at me. He doesn’t invite me in. Instead, he leans on the doorframe, and I stand in the hallway as he waits for me to go first.
“So we’re back to being enemies, I see,” I say dryly.
“We’re not enemies.” He sighs, and it’s a deep, aching sort of sigh. “Everybody always leaves, and I’m really goddamn sick of it.”
“I’m not leaving you,” I protest, but it’s weak.
He sidesteps my words. “What’s the plan?” When my brows furrow, he adds, “I assume you’ve spoken with Ellie.”
“We’re going to do our best to bury it,” I say.
I don’t admit that Ellie hinted how talking about his mother’s funeral would be one way to cast the story in a different light.
He doesn’t need to hear it when he already feels betrayed by me.
“Can you name anyone else who was there so we can throw attention off of you?”
“If I’m not naming your father, I’m not naming anyone else who was there,” he says flatly.
I nod. “Understandable. Ellie’s going to issue a statement so we don’t invite too much speculation. It’ll be brief and essentially say it’s a non-story and you’re not in any trouble, you’re cooperating fully, blah blah blah.”
“I’m not cooperating fully,” he points out. “I didn’t give them the name they wanted.”
“Did you tell them you knew the name?”
He lifts a shoulder. “I was noncommittal about it.”
“Ellie told me to keep you off socials and stay by your side today.”
He shakes his head.
I roll my eyes. “Come on, Maverick. I don’t want to go back to hating each other.
” I move in toward him a little, but he doesn’t move.
He’s a wall of man in his doorway. A hot wall of man who’s clearly upset with me.
“Please don’t hate me,” I whisper. I want to reach around him to wrap my arms around his torso, but I stay put.
He’s quiet a long beat. Eventually, his eyes flick to mine, and he says darkly, “You know I don’t.” He reaches for me and hauls me into him. “But I can’t be with someone who refuses to choose me.”
“They’re my family, Maverick,” I say softly. “If you name him, he’ll go to jail. How could we ever have a future together if it’s you putting him there?”
“Sometimes we choose, and right now, you’re choosing to put my reputation and my career in danger.” His voice is soft.
“You’re putting me in an impossible position.”
“There’s always a choice. I need to get to practice.
” He practically walks into me, so I move out of his way as he reaches into his pocket and grabs his keys.
He locks his door. I could get in the elevator with him to give us more time…
but I don’t even have shoes on, let alone my car keys, my tablet, my phone, my purse—all the things I need to take with me to watch him at practice all day so I can work to try to find some way out of this disaster.
I’m not sure there is a way out. I might’ve sealed my fate when I chose to put my father over the man I’ve fallen for.
* * *
I head to the Complex and sit in the bleachers as I work.
I should be watching Maverick. I should be taking notes on how he’s interacting with his teammates and coming up with media talking points, but instead I’m knee-deep in research about my own damn father’s illegal casino to try to piece together anyone else that might’ve been there.
There has to be someone who can take the heat off Maverick, some celebrity with a bigger name that people would find interesting enough.
There’s not. Not that I’ve found yet, anyway.
And so I make a phone call that I know is going to sink my ship, but I have no other choice.
“Everleigh, what is it?” my father answers.
I sigh. “What can you tell me about this lounge?”
“I can’t talk about it. I’m in town. Can you meet me?”
I glance at Maverick. He’s fine. He’ll be fine if I slip out. This is in the name of protecting his image, anyway. “When and where?”
“I’m staying at the Fontainebleau. Meet me there in thirty minutes.”
“Fine,” I mutter, and I head to my car.
Thirty minutes later, I’m standing in the lobby of the hotel when I see my father rushing toward me. He ushers me without a word toward the elevators, and we head up to his room.
“Why are you being weird?” I ask.
He glances at the camera in the corner of the elevator, and he doesn’t answer my question. He remains silent until we’re in his room behind a closed door.
“You are not to bring up the lounge over a phone call. Ever. Do you understand?” he says.
“Why not?” I narrow my eyes at him.
“People are listening,” he hisses as he paces in front of the windows. “I’ve been very careful, and I’ll not have one of my own children blow this up for me.”
“Then you probably shouldn’t be doing illegal things, Dad,” I point out.
“Be that as it may, I could be in a lot of trouble if I left a loose thread out there. What do you want to know?” he asks.
“Who was there the night it was raided?”
His brows furrow. “Why do you need to know?”
“Maverick Jennings is my client. I’m trying to clear his name, and throwing attention to someone else is one strategy.”
“To bury the story?” he guesses.
“What would you have me do?” I ask.
“Ignore it. No need to make a statement.” He shrugs as if it’s not a big deal.
“Clearly we work in different industries. I realize you’ve kept a lot of secrets, but I’m working with a celebrity figure whose fans deserve a statement.” I shrug back at him, though mine is a bit more sarcastic than his was.
“I can’t give you that information.” He stares out the window instead of at me.
“What if you’re arrested?” I ask quietly.
“Then your mother goes through this whole thing alone.” His phone rings, and he glances at it. “Look, I don’t have a lot of time to chitchat right now. I’m waiting for a secure call from the Caymans, and—”
“A secure call from the Caymans? Isn’t that where people hide off-the-books money?” I ask.
He gives me a look that very plainly says duh, and I can’t help but wonder exactly how bad my father is. How many illegal activities is he a part of? How much time should he be doing in prison?
And who has he set up to take the fall for all of this?
I don’t know the answer to any of it, and he’s not in the mood to share. In fact, I’m not sure why he invited me over here at all.
“Do you know how the feds found out?” I ask.
“They’ve been after me a while, but I always covered my tracks. It sounds like they’ve been tracking a number of my clients, not the least of which was your boyfriend.”
So he’s saying it was at least partly Maverick’s fault his place was busted.
Great.
Add it to the list of reasons why Maverick and I were just never meant to be.
“I guess that’s what happens when you lure in celebrities,” I say, not bothering to mask my irritation. “So who else was there?”
He shakes his head. He’s not going to give me a single piece of information.
“Why’d you tell me to come here if you weren’t planning to give me anything to work with?” I finally ask.
He turns from the window and toward me. “I invited you here to ensure your silence, Everleigh.”
“You asked me to promise you over the phone, and I did. It was enough to break what might be the most important relationship of my life, but that wasn’t good enough for you?” I ask softly.
His eyes don’t soften as they should at my words. If anything, they harden. “Toughen up. You’re a Bradley, and Bradleys always come first.”
I stare at him for a beat, and then the question blurts out of my mouth before I can stop it. “Who’s going to take the fall for your crimes?”
His mouth twitches for just a second before he schools his features and turns back toward the windows.
A phone starts to ring with a shrill, loud ring, and that must be the call he was waiting on.
“I need you to excuse me. This is a private call.” He nods toward the door as he picks up the call, and he leaves me wondering why in the hell I possibly chose his side over Maverick’s.
I try Madden’s number as I pull away from the hotel to head back to the Complex. He may be at practice, or I may have caught him at just the right time.
“Ev?” he answers.
I burst into tears.
“Ev, what is it? Is it Mom?” he asks.
Every conversation with any of my siblings will start that way, I fear. From now until it happens.
I force myself to pull it together since I’m driving. “No, it’s not Mom. It’s Dad.” My voice trembles. “I just saw him, and we had this weird meeting where he was being all sketchy and talking about accounts in the Caymans. He’s up to something, Madden.”
“Of course he is. He’s always up to something, and it’s high time we all learned that.”
“He just told me to toughen up because I’m a Bradley, and Bradleys come first,” I say. “And then I asked him who’s going to take the fall for his crimes, and he didn’t answer.”
He sighs. “One of the seven of us, no doubt. How many times has he asked us to sign shit when we had no idea what it was? He’s hiding stuff, Ev. He’s working hard to keep his assets away from anyone who might try to seize them, but it might be too late.”
“So what do we do?” I ask. I beg. There has to be something that can be done here. I just let go of possibly the best thing that ever happened to me because of our father. I need to do something to justify that. To prove I made the right choice.
“Sit back and watch the fireworks, I guess. And trust me, there will be fireworks.”
I blow out a breath as I sink back into the driver’s seat and hope that when they detonate, the seven Bradley siblings are able to escape without getting burned.
Or the rest of them, anyway, since I’m already a little too close to the sparks.