Sins, Lies & Spies (Black Brothers #2)(2)

I glanced at my watch again. “No, like I told you when we met, I don’t want a relationship. It doesn’t matter if it’s casual, committed or anything in between. My feelings haven’t changed. My feelings will never change. If you wanted something more than an occasional hook-up, you have the wrong guy.”

I wanted to tell her that the minute she showed up on my doorstep was the minute I decided I was done with her. Lately, I had toyed with the idea of wanting more than a casual fling, but tonight reminded me why I stayed true to my three-date rule. After date number three, women expected things. They started talking about feelings and hinting about a shared future. I was happy with my life. I didn’t need a woman or a family. I wasn’t cut out for that life.

At any rate, I didn’t have the time or inclination to explain this to Brenna. The clock was ticking. I had a job to do and escalating this wouldn’t help my cause. I was already cutting it close if I wanted to get in and out of Representative Lang’s house without being caught.

“You’re an *, Knox.”

I refrained from rolling my eyes at the predictability of her comment. “I know. Are we finished, or do you want to continue arguing about why I need to change my mind about wanting a relationship just because you lied to me about not wanting one?” My voice trailed off as I pinned her with an icy glare.

Brenna’s gaze shifted to the floor, then quickly down the narrow hallway. “Fuck you,” she said without any heat. Her voice quivered and my chest squeezed with a tinge of guilt. I stifled the emotion as quickly as it materialized, and my anger surfaced again. I never lied to her.

Exhaling, I resisted the urge to respond with a crude comment. “Have a nice life, Brenna.” I stepped around her and pushed open the door to the exit stairwell. I didn’t want to call the elevator and risk prolonging my confrontation with her.

***

I stepped through the door of Representative Lang’s home. The house hummed with polite conversation. Elegant people gathered in tiny circles, drinking champagne and martinis. Servers dressed in black pants and white collared shirts held silver trays with bite-sized appetizers.

I waved to acquaintances, and greeted anyone at the fundraiser who made eye contact. I feigned excitement for Lang’s re-election campaign. I laughed at dumb jokes. I shook enough hands to consider making a quick detour to the bathroom. When that was done, I engaged him.

“Representative Lang.” I clapped one hand on his left shoulder while I stuck out my other hand.

With steady eye contact, his fingers curled around mine in a practiced shake meant to demonstrate his authority. He was in his late fifties and at least four inches shorter than my six-foot-two frame. His watery blue eyes contrasted with his overly leathered skin. Gray hair liberally threaded the sides of his light brown hair. He looked like the typical politician, and I didn’t mean that as a compliment.

“Mr. Black.” He smiled a toothy, veneered grin that raised my hackles. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

I tipped up my chin. “You know I couldn’t pass up the chance to personally deliver my donation to your campaign.” I pulled a folded check out of my pocket and handed it to him.

It disappeared into the pocket of his pants almost immediately. “Thank you. I appreciate your support. Do you know if Black Investments will be supporting my campaign this time around? There are rumblings of a new bill that will smother investment firms. I’d hate for your brother’s company to get tangled up in miles of red tape.”

My brother, Archer Black, ran an investment firm with billions of dollars in holdings. He recently relocated his headquarters to L.A. to support his fiancée’s acting career. As much as I missed living near my brother, I couldn’t be angry. He loved Langley, which was a f*cking miracle. I never thought Archer would love anyone enough to get married. He was a cold bastard most of the time, but I couldn’t fault him. Our childhood emotionally handicapped both of us in different ways. At least one of us managed to put the past behind us.

“I’ll pass along the information to my brother. I’m sure he appreciates all your hard work. The country has a brighter future with you in office.” I smiled like a jackass to conceal the lie. And no, lightning didn’t strike me dead for the metaphorical pile of bullshit I heaped on his head.

A wide Cheshire cat grin split across his face. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Anytime.” I patted him on the shoulder again and excused myself. There was only so much smoke I could blow up someone’s ass and still respect myself in the morning.

I grabbed a glass of champagne off a small round table near the back of the room and dashed down the white and black tiled hallway. According to my sources, Lang kept his personal computer in his home office at the rear of the house, adjacent to the bathroom.

Earlier today, I’d hacked into his home security system and dismantled the office and hallway cameras. Now, I had to pray no one wandered into the office in the ten minutes it’d take to access his computer, download everything from his hard drive onto a couple of thumb drives, and replace his USB cord.

As I walked into his office, I rapped lightly on the wood paneled wall. Even former military intelligence officers needed a bit of luck now and again.

I unplugged his computer, shoved the cord into my pocket, and replaced it with a special USB cord equipped with a tiny transceiver, which would communicate with my briefcase-sized field station set up in a vacant apartment my partner and I used as an office about four miles away. It would enable me to access data on Representative Lang’s computer even if he disconnected it from the Internet as he frequently did.