Trust Me, page 7
He was the first one to break eye contact.
“I, uh, I should be going,” he said. He slapped his hands on his thighs and rose.
Mack stood so abruptly she sent her chair rocking back. Ezra’s reflexes were quick. He caught the chair before it crashed to the floor.
“Thank you,” she said. “I don’t know when I became so clumsy. Maybe it’s the wine.”
“You’re a scotch drinker. I think you can handle one glass of wine just fine,” Ezra replied.
Mack knew her clumsiness had nothing to do with the wine, but acknowledging the perplexing feelings reverberating throughout her brain was not on the table. She’d save that for later, when Ezra’s keen gaze was no longer studying every inch of her face.
“So, what do you think?” she asked as she led him to the foyer. “Am I being paranoid about Mayor Warner? Do you think maybe these are all just coincidences?”
“You’re a smart woman, Mackenna. I think you know the answer to that.”
She nodded. “It’s not just paranoia.”
“I doubt it,” Ezra said in agreement. “I’ve worked in this business long enough to know that when things seem like coincidences, they usually aren’t. There’s at least something here that warrants digging a little deeper.”
Mack released a relieved sigh. “I was hoping you would say that. In case you hadn’t realized it, that’s the reason I asked you to come over.”
“You want me to look into the mayor,” Ezra said.
She hunched her shoulders. “Well, you were able to uncover information about Carter that my team of lawyers all missed. You obviously have superior investigation skills.”
His brow cocked and a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. “Why Councilmember Arnold, did you just give me a compliment?”
Mack had the horrifying suspicion that she was blushing. What in the heck was the matter with her? She hadn’t blushed in years.
“I just figured if anyone could find out what’s going on with the mayor, it’s you,” she said.
He fitted the cap back on his head and pulled the brim down to where it cast a shadow over the upper half of his face.
“I’ll check out a few sources and see what I can find. Whether this turns out to be a big scandal or not, it’s worth looking into it. I’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you, Ezra.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. He waved good night as he crossed the hallway and boarded the elevator.
Mack waited until the elevator doors closed before going back into her apartment. She closed her front door, thumped the back of her head against it and slid down to the floor. Cradling her head in her hands, she took several deep breaths and tried to convince herself that she was doing the right thing.
* * *
Ezra stood on the sidewalk, facing the steel and glass doors outside Mack’s condo building. Was it really less than twenty-four hours since he’d last stood here, debating whether or not to press the button next to her name?
His stomach twisted in a dozen different ways, just as it had yesterday. He’d been taken aback by his readiness to fall hook, line and sinker for the scenario she’d proposed. It wasn’t until he got home last night that it even occurred to him that he should at least question what she said about the mayor.
He’d stayed up half the night fact-checking the different issues Mackenna claimed Lucien Warner had flip-flopped on. It hadn’t taken Ezra long to recognize that her suspicions had merit. Just as she’d pointed out, the mayor’s numerous reversals weren’t on hot button topics that would garner a lot of attention, which is probably why they had all flown under the radar.
Ezra had texted her a half hour ago, asking Mack if she could meet with him to discuss a couple of things he’d found in his initial search on the mayor. She’d asked if he wanted to come over so they could go through it, and he’d answered yes so fast he nearly broke his damn finger in his haste to respond.
That’s what had given him pause.
Forget the stuff he’d uncovered about the mayor. It was his inability to curb the excitement that sprouted in his gut just at the thought of seeing Mack again that was, by far, the most troubling discovery of the last twenty-four hours. Especially when just a few days ago it was the mental image of her being led down the steps of City Hall in handcuffs that conjured that kind of excitement within him.
Seeing Mackenna Arnold in handcuffs was no longer his goal. Ezra was now convinced that whoever had sent the anonymous tip insinuating that she had knowledge of BDF Disposal’s ties to Starlight Enterprises had made the same mistake he’d made.
She may not be guilty of wrongdoing, but that didn’t mean he should be so quick to let go of the healthy skepticism he brought to every story either. He’d done that once before, and it had bitten him in the ass.
Just remember, you’re here for work.
And therein lay a huge piece of this messy, problematic puzzle. There was no good reason for him to be here at all. He could have easily emailed Mack the bits of information he’d uncovered so far. Meeting her in her apartment for the second night in a row wasn’t necessary.
Then again, when it came to his preferred journalistic style, Ezra favored face-to-face encounters over electronic ones. It was harder for him to gauge a person’s attitude over email. He relied on nuance. He wanted to look into a person’s eyes when he questioned them, or when he imparted information he’d discovered.
Sure, that’s why you’re here.
He could throw out every excuse in the book, but the truth remained. When it came to Mackenna, he just liked seeing her face. Period.
Ezra threw his head back and released a frustrated curse. He wasn’t sure if he was up to bearing the burden of dealing with this insatiable attraction to her. It would require willpower he doubted he possessed. It had been hard enough to fight it back when he thought she was a crooked politician. Now that that barrier had been removed, what was there to stop his overactive imagination from conjuring things he damn sure shouldn’t be thinking about when it came to Mack?
“You’re here to do a job,” Ezra reminded himself.
Sucking in a fortifying breath, he pressed the button next to her name, calling up to her condo. He stood there for a full two minutes waiting for her to answer. Nothing happened.
He pressed the button again. And waited.
Just as he reached into his pocket for his phone, he heard her sexy voice just to the right of him, “Ezra?”
He turned to find her a couple of steps away, carting a brown shopping bag in each hand.
“I was hoping I could make it back before you got here,” she said. She held up the bags. “I went to August Moon. I didn’t want to invite you here at dinner time and not have anything to feed you the way I did last night.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Ezra said, taking both bags from her hands.
“Yes, I did,” she said as she punched in a code and held the door open for him. They boarded the elevator to her seventh-floor condo.
When they entered the apartment, Ezra noticed at least a half dozen boxes stacked by the door.
“You moving?” he asked.
“No, my ex-husband is finally sending someone over to get the rest of his crap,” she said. “I’ve been asking him to do so for over a year. I guess me finding those files on his little side business finally lit a fire under his ass. I’ll bet he’s hiding a bunch of other stuff in there.”
“Maybe you should have a look before he comes to get them,” Ezra said.
She waved off his suggestion. “I don’t care anymore. Carter can have a million dollars stashed away in the Caymans, and I still wouldn’t want it. He doesn’t seem to understand that the only thing I want is to be rid of him.”
“I would have thought you were rid of him,” Ezra said as he set the bags containing the Chinese food on the table. “He was the one who filed for divorce, right? I remember when it happened. It was kind of a big deal around the city.”
“New Orleans’s power couple’s big split. You don’t have to remind me,” Mack said. “I lived it.”
All of New Orleans had lived it. Ezra was still at the paper when news broke about Carter Arnold telling his wife he wanted a divorce while the two were dining at one of the French Quarter’s most popular restaurants. According to those who witnessed it first hand, Carter didn’t even make an attempt at discretion. It was as if he wanted to embarrass Mackenna in the grandest way possible.
It had always been Ezra’s opinion that she never should have married that son of a bitch in the first place, but what did he know?
He folded his arms across his chest. “So, if the divorce was your ex’s idea, why is he still bothering you?”
“Because he’s an asshole,” she answered. “Carter likes to win. He screwed me over in our divorce, not because he needed the money, but because in his mind screwing me over means he won. It’s all a game to him. That’s why he was still cocky as ever when I confronted him about his connection to Starlight Enterprises. He knows there’s nothing I can do about it because I would never jeopardize my position on the city council. It’s his way of showing me that he can still win whenever he wants to.”
Ezra shook his head. “I’m surprised you stayed with him for as long as you did.”
“Carter may have sucked as a husband, but he was good for my career.” She hunched her shoulders. “There are perks to being one half of New Orleans’s power couple.”
“You seem to be doing just fine without being a part of a power couple,” he said. “I think you give him more credit than he deserves.”
A small smile tipped up the corner of her mouth. “You’re probably right.”
“No ‘probably’ about it.”
“If I could do it all over again, I would have been the one to ask for the divorce, and I would have done it a few years ago, back when I first suspected he was messing around.” Mack cocked her head to the side. “How did we get on the subject of my ex-husband and his side-piece turned wife?”
Ezra pointed to yet another cardboard box, this one next to the sofa. “His crap is crowding your apartment. I’m happy to change the subject if you are.”
“Yes, please,” she said. “Let’s get to why you’re really here.” She shoved the paper bags toward him. “You start pulling out these cartons and I’ll get us some plates and drinks. Bottled water okay? Or maybe some wine?”
“Water’s fine,” he said.
Ezra began unpacking the Chinese food. “You think you ordered enough?” he asked as he set the fifth carton on the table.
Mack returned with two plates, two sets of chopsticks and two bottles of water.
“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I ordered a bunch of stuff. I figure whatever we don’t finish tonight will be lunch and dinner for me tomorrow.”
She dished out the food, and five minutes later, they were both deep into the sesame chicken and vegetable stir-fry while Ezra reviewed the bits he’d been able to piece together about the mayor so far.
“In my initial search, I was mostly concerned with finding out what the mayor has done in the past, compared to how he has been voting over the last two years. Earlier today I covered the walls in my living room with butcher paper. I plan to build a huge timeline where I can physically chart Lucien Warner’s voting habits since he became mayor. I’ll color-code it so that I can get a better picture of how much his habits have changed over the years.”
“That’s brilliant.”
He shrugged. “It’s the way my brain works. I need to see the visual for things to sink in.” He hefted the leather messenger bag his mother had bought him ten years ago, when he first started at the paper, onto the table. “For now, I think we should start by going back to when the mayor worked as a prosecutor at the DA’s office.” Ezra pulled out several file folders. “These are all the public statements I could find from Mayor Warner’s early days working for the city. You never know what a person has said in the past that will prove to be significant later.”
A smile drew across Mackenna’s face. “I knew I’d found the right man for this job.”
“Pace yourself, Councilwoman. That’s two compliments in two days’ time. I’m not sure I can handle many more.”
She burst out laughing as she gathered the remnants of their dinner, then invited him to join her in the living room. Ezra was about to sit on the sofa, but she pushed him out of the way and began to spread the transcripts out. She picked up the first one, and slid down onto the floor with her back against the sofa.
Ezra moved her coffee table by two feet, because there was no way in hell his big body would comfortably fit between it and the sofa. Then he followed suit, sitting on the floor next to Mack. Together they scoured the documents. After about an hour, Ezra stood so he could stretch his legs.
“Are you bored yet?” he asked her.
“Oh, my God, yes!” Mack said. “I’m dying here. This is worse than pre-trial discovery. I should have my students read through these so they can get a taste of what it’s really like to be an attorney.” She yawned as she stretched her arms above her head. “Most of them think being a lawyer is like what they see on television. If you go in expecting to recreate your favorite Law and Order episodes, you’re in for a rude awakening.”
“Is that what happened to you?”
She grinned. The sight was so stunning it damn near killed him.
“Do you remember that old TV show Matlock?” she asked.
“It rings a bell,” Ezra said, reclaiming his spot on the floor between the sofa and coffee table.
“My grandmother loved it. I watched it with her every week and wanted nothing more than to help people the way Ben Matlock did. But I knew television was make-believe. I had ample opportunity to witness how real lawyers operated.” She uncapped her water bottle and peered over at him as she took a drink. “I was raised by my grandparents. They fought my mother for custody, so I had a firsthand view of the way the process works.”
That single revelation set off a swarm of questions in his head. Why didn’t her grandparents trust her birth mother to raise her? Did she know her birth mother at all? How had that entire episode influence her life? Had it played any part in the person she was today? It had to. You didn’t go through something like that as a child without it affecting you.
He’d known her for nearly twenty years, yet there was still so much Ezra didn’t know about her. But he got the sense that she wasn’t ready to share, so instead of seeking answers to his multitude of questions, he asked, “So when did the turn from law to politics happen?”
She did another of those arms-above-the-head stretches. The motion caused her cotton top to pull taunt across her breasts and, for a moment, Ezra forgot how to breathe. He sat there transfixed as she tilted her head from side to side, working out the muscles in her neck. The light overhead cast shadows on her smooth, chestnut-brown skin. It begged him to reach out and touch it. The barest brush of his fingertips would be enough. He just wanted to know if her skin felt as soft as it looked.
“The move to politics was gradual, but probably inevitable,” she said, jerking his attention back to their conversation. “Lucien Warner had a lot to do with it.”
“He was somewhat of a mentor to you during your years at Tulane, right?”
She nodded. “I once heard him argue for both the negative and affirmative in a mock discussion on corporal punishment in schools, and for months later I couldn’t decide if I was for or against it. I knew I wanted to follow in his footsteps, so when he stepped into politics, I naturally gravitated to it.”
“He still doesn’t seem like the law school professor type,” Ezra said.
With an amused lilt in her voice, she asked, “And what exactly is the law school professor type?”
“When I think ‘law school professor’ I picture some old guy with gray hair, elbow patches on his jacket and a pipe hanging out of the side of his mouth.”
Mack laughed. “I’m sure that’s what my students see when they look at me.”
“We both know that’s not the case with you. You’re the exception to the rule.”
Her full, decadent mouth eased into a slow, mischievous smile. “Now who’s the one handing out compliments?”
“Just calling it as I see it,” Ezra murmured.
The temperature in the room spiked as Mack’s gaze dropped to his lips. Arousal pulsed between them, thickening the air. Ezra was captivated by its hypnotic allure as her tempting smile continued to draw him in, and he realized he liked it a lot better when he wasn’t her adversary.
A voice in his head picked that particular moment to remind him that he wasn’t her friend either. He was here to do a job.
Ezra cleared his throat and sat up straight. “Yeah, so I think we’re off to a good start when it comes to digging into the mayor’s background.”
“Yes.” She nodded. “This is a good start.”
Ezra pushed himself up off the floor and began collecting the transcripts. He didn’t need to be here right now. He shouldn’t be here at all.
Just because he’d agreed to work with Mack on this investigation, it didn’t mean he had to be around her. In fact, it was probably better if he kept his distance. That way he could concentrate on the task at hand instead of focusing on the way the light played against her skin or how her glorious head of thick, brown hair framed her perfect face.
There was one significant thing that had become alarmingly clear to him tonight. Now that he no longer looked at her as a criminal, it made it easier to look at her as a woman.
And that scared the hell out of him.
Chapter 5
“Hey, Uncle Ezra! Wanna see my crossover?”
Ezra walked up his brother’s driveway and stopped underneath the basketball goal where his nephew, Athens, stood with an NBA regulation Spaulding.
“What do you know about a crossover?”
“I know I can do one. I learned it on YouTube. Look!” He tried bouncing the ball through his chubby legs—baby fat according to his sister-in-law—but didn’t quite make it, losing control of the ball as he reached for it behind his back. The basketball bounced toward Ezra, who stopped it with his foot.
