Free Mr. Wright & Mr. Wrong: A BWWM Romance by Camilla Stevens Page B

everyone’s interest was piqued. Cleveland let it hang in the air, eating up the anticipation.
    “Will you please stop giving me a heart attack and say what you have to say?” their father pressed.
    Cleveland dropped the act and leaned in conspiratorially. “She got caught on that kiss cam they have, but get this, turns out the guy she was kissing is the son of Richard Wright. I wasn’t sure. Who knows how many he has these days, and they always try to stay out of the lime light, but it was definitely him.”
    London’s eyebrows shot up. Brooklyn and a Wright? Everyone knew Richard Wright, of course. He made a point of plastering his name over every building in the city, and loved publicity almost as much as he loved taking on a new wife every ten years or so.
    Cleveland was right though, the sons were usually pretty media-shy. Which son was Brooklyn involved with? There was Michael, whom she knew only because he was also an attorney. She thought there was another that might be old enough but it was well known his spent his life jet-setting off to some party city or another, never in New York.
    It had to be Michael. How old was that man, anyway? Like father like son, she thought. It made sense; Brooklyn was notorious for falling for older men. London didn’t need a psychology degree to know whose fault that was.
    “Good god,” groaned her father. “Of course she’d pull this little stunt just when Dion Davis is about to announce his run for the Democratic candidate for Mayor. Insubordination and treachery , that’s what this is!”
    “I seriously doubt she started dating a Wright of all people just to ruin your plans, Daddy,” London sighed.
    She saw him give her an accusatory look. She became suspicious when that look suddenly broke out into an ingratiating smile.
    “Oh no, Daddy,” London warned, knowing full well what he was going to ask. “If you want to know something you just ask her yourself.”
    “You know that girl doesn’t talk to me,” he protested. “You’re the only one she seems to get along with.”
    “Maybe you should try talking to her. You are her father after all.”
    “London, you know I don’t ask much of you.” He ignored the incredulous look she gave him. “I would try to reach out to her if I thought she would be open to it, but this is important information we have to get a handle on, before she does something crazy.”
    “Why sure, Daddy. I would just love to snoop on my younger sister’s blossoming love life, just as my own is falling apart.”
    The sarcasm was completely lost on him as he grinned and wrapped an arm around her. “I knew I could count on you.”
    “Is that a Town Car?” Estelle interjected looking past them toward the street in surprise.
    They all turned to see Brooklyn exiting a shiny black car, then reaching in to grab her grandma’s hand. Frank shot his daughter a pointed look. London couldn’t deny wanting a few answers herself right about now. Both of them knew neither Brooklyn nor her grandma could afford to splurge for a Town Car. Had Brooklyn already become Michael’s little side piece?
    As they approached she took in Brooklyn’s black and white, stripped maxi dress with spaghetti straps. She was a stark contrast to London and her mother, both of whom were wearing conservative dress suits, London’s in pale blue and her mother’s in coral. London was already used to her sister changing the color of her mass of natural curls, so the purple ends were no surprise. The entire package was enough to make her stand out in the crowd of, mostly black, conservatively dressed church attendees. She could already sense her father’s disapproving eyes on his youngest as she walked arm-in-arm with grandma over to where they were all standing.
    Before she could address the Town Car issue, she caught sight of a flash of color in her grandma’s latest wig (which was a bit more chic than usual), as the sun reflected off one of the dark strands. “Are