Free Deception (Tamia Luke) by Naomi Chase Page B

mean?”
    “Well, he said once you made partner, you’d start acting like you were better than the rest of us.”
    Brandon scowled. “Fuck Kessler.”
    Addison snorted. “Not even if you paid me.”
    They both laughed.
    Brandon’s cell phone rang. Seeing his best friend’s number on the caller ID, he plucked the phone off his desk and answered, “Wassup.”
    “Yo,” Dre greeted him. “I’m about five minutes away.”
    “Cool. I’ll meet you downstairs at Stogie’s. Justin and Cornel are running late—as usual.”
    Dre said slyly, “So I’ll have you all to myself for a while?”
    “Man, chill with that down-low shit before I tell Leah.”
    As Brandon hung up on Dre’s raucous laughter, Addison snapped her fingers. “Damn. I was hoping you didn’t have any plans tonight so I could talk you into having drinks with me.”
    Brandon sent her a wry smile. “Come on now,” he drawled.
    “What?” she asked, rising from the sofa.
    “You know you and I are never gonna have drinks together.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because around here, ‘having drinks together’ is code for fucking. And no offense, Addison, but I’m not interested.”
    Her green eyes glinted wickedly. “Are you sure?”
    “Positive.”
    She sighed. “Can’t blame a girl for trying,” she quipped before sashaying from the office.
    Five minutes later, Brandon had just boarded the elevator to head downstairs when Addison called out breathlessly, “Wait up!”
    He instinctively stuck his hand between the sliding brass doors to prevent them from closing as Addison raced inside, a leather briefcase in one hand and a small gym bag slung over her shoulder.
    “Thanks,” she panted with a throaty laugh. “I ran as fast as I could to catch you before you got away. With the elevator, I mean.”
    “No problem.” Brandon pressed the buttons for the lobby and the underground parking level.
    As soon as the doors slid closed, Addison began peeling off her skintight jeans.
    Brandon stared at her. “What the hell—”
    She laughed as she nearly lost her balance and had to lean against him for support to finish removing her pants. She quickly stuffed them inside her bag, then reached for the hem of her T-shirt.
    “What the fuck are you doing?” Brandon demanded.
    “Relax, handsome.” Her amused voice was muffled as she tugged off her shirt to reveal pale, melon-sized breasts barely contained by a skimpy lace bra. “I’m meeting some friends at the club, and I forgot to change before I left the office.”
    “Likely story,” Brandon muttered, averting his eyes to stare up at the electronic monitor above the doors. But he was aware of Addison shimmying into a strapless black tube dress and stiletto heels, her sensual gaze willing him to watch her in the polished brass of the doors.
    After what seemed an eternity, the elevator reached the lobby.
    As Brandon stepped off, Addison said, “Oh, wait, I forgot to ask you something.”
    He glanced back at her.
    Pressing the button to keep the doors open, she grinned at him. “Aren’t you impressed by my perfect timing?”
    “Sure,” Brandon said drolly. “You must have a lot of practice undressing in elevators.”
    She laughed, combing her fingers through her tousled dark hair. “Not exactly. I just know how to multitask.” And she gave him a look meant to make him wonder how many other things she could do at once.
    “What did you want to ask me?” he prompted, impatience edging his voice.
    But she was suddenly staring across the lobby.
    Following the direction of her gaze, Brandon saw Dre striding through the double glass doors and heading toward the entrance to Stogie’s.
    “Isn’t that your friend Deondre?” Addison asked.
    “Yeah.”
    “Wow, he looks great. Not all black guys can pull off a baldie like he can. And he looks really buff, too. Has he been working out a lot?”
    Before Brandon could shoot off some smart-ass remark, Dre glanced over and saw Brandon and Addison standing at