Free The Opium Room by Charisma Kendrick Page A

it.”
    “I don’t need your damn money.” Now Fox was seriously humoring Roman. He knew first–hand Roman was destitute. Fox was truly his lifeline—not the other way around. “I’ve invested my own.”
    Roman took one last drag and snuffed out his cigar in the palm of his knife–wound inflicted hand. Fox had never asked where the scar came from. Roman had probably deserved it. “I know. You’re a bad ass, right? Well, you don’t intimidate me. I’m sick of not having a voice when it comes to my own damn business. I’m going to review the expense reports one more time. And when my figures balance again, I’ll sit Jill down and we’ll do a joint desk audit. I’ll point out to her exactly where she screwed up. After that, I’m done with her. Don’t ever mention her to me again. If you want to waste your money on her, be my guest. But she’s off my payroll. And if you don’t back off, you will be too.”
    Roman’s chair squeaked as he leaned back. He crossed his hands over his torso, bore a hate–filled gaze into Fox’s soul. “You’re an ungrateful son of a bitch,” he said. “Just like your mother.”
    Fox was unaffected by his intimidation tactic. He rose and put his hands on Roman’s desk. Leaned over and said in a carefully controlled tone, “Funny you should bring up my mother. I’ve never believed her death was an accident. I believe you had something to do with it.” He stared Roman down and paused a beat before continuing. “And I’m going to find out what it is.”
    Roman said nothing.
    Fox walked to the door, put his hand on the knob. “And you better pray to God that I don’t uncover the truth.” He slammed the door and the entire floor rumbled.
    Fox was quite pleased with himself as he rode the private elevator down to start his day. He’d accomplished two of his long–term goals in just a few short minutes. Instead of gazing at the floor like he so often did when Roman attempted to break him down, he met Roman’s eyes. Managed to keep his breathing and heart rate steady. Finally manned up.
    But more importantly, he let Roman know his suspicion regarding his mother’s death. He’d had fleeting thoughts of suspicion for years now, but had suppressed them. Never voiced them to anyone. Refused to believe they had any real substance.
    But he’d finally allowed himself to start remembering that night. And the details were clearer with each passing day.

CHAPTER EIGHT

    —Lea
    In the conference room the next morning, a speaker from a web hosting company was doing a marketing promotion, but Lea wasn’t paying attention. She had too much on her mind. This whole convention fiasco had gone out the window the moment she’d heard the name Foxworth Kemp.
    Lea didn’t feel too guilty for not listening; this wasn’t like one of her college courses where the teacher would loud you out for not paying attention. She’d voluntarily paid and signed up, more as a getaway than a learning experience. So it was her prerogative to tune everything out.
    When Brandon cheated, Lea didn’t think she could ever hurt more. Then she got a text this morning from Kate. She kept him as a friend on Facebook because Lea had asked her to. She wanted to know the scoop on him and his new girlfriend. She guessed she was hoping they’d break up. Not so much because she wanted Brandon back, but she didn’t want him to have a happy ending with the woman he’d left her for. Kate said his Facebook status had recently changed to engaged . She’d clicked on his profile, and there was a picture of him holding his slut girlfriend in his lap, and she was showing her blinged–out left hand to the camera.
    So what did Lea do? She called up Kate and asked her for the password to her account, so she could log on and look at the picture. Big mistake. Lea blew up the picture to one hundred fifty percent and sat there staring, comparing herself to Brandon’s girlfriend. Lea’s eyes were blue; hers were too, only