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“The Billingsgang.”
“What aboutthem?” Going around her desk, she put the messages down andpicked up a file she had left there.
“There arerumors of a gang feud stirring up.”
Looking up at him,she raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue. Gang uprisingswere part of the fabric of this neighborhood as much as the graffition the walls of the abandoned buildings.
The mayor and thegovernor had been making the usual political noises about cleaning upthis downtown section, but as far as Brooke was concerned, it wasjust that - talk and nothing more.
The neighborhood wasdilapidated, and the unoccupied buildings were havens for drugged-outindividuals and perps running from the law. She was accustomed toseeing the thriving business of drugs being exchanged for cash, andit made her angry enough to march into the mayor’s office topetition to get them to do better, to no avail.
“Oh?”
Dan’s sparselight brown eyebrows lifted over his pale blue eyes. “I am justconcerned-”
“No need. Thegangs, even the opposing ones, leave us alone. We are a medicalclinic, and a free one at that. We are on their side, and they arenot that stupid to want to do anything to change that.
We take care of theirloved ones as well as the various members who get themselves shot ator suffer from a knife wound. They don’t worry me.”
“I wish youwould not be so dismissive.” His expression showed her how muchhe admired her and was making her uncomfortable.
“I don’thave time to worry about the turf wars and all that nonsense. That’syour job.” She pointed out.
“And I assureyou that we are here for you, Brooke. The entire precinct admireswhat you are trying to do here.”
She flashed him asmile that had his blood pressure spiking. “And we thank youfor that.”
She glanced at theclock on the wall facing her. “I have to go.”
“I wish youwould let me take you to lunch or dinner.”
“Myschedule-”
“Is full, Iknow, but even one as committed as you have to eat.” His voicehad turned persuasive, and Brooke had to tamp down the impatience.She was uninterested in him and would never be, but he refused totake the hint.
“I will let youknow.”
He nodded with apleased smile as if she had given him a total commitment. “Iwill leave you to it then.” With a nod of his ash blonde head,he turned and left.
Hissing out a breath,she put the file away and went out to dive into work.
*****
His mind was not onthe opening nor the woman clinging to his arm. And he realized whathe was feeling was an acute sense of boredom. He was accustomed tothe lavish lifestyle and well-dressed people milling around the newlyappointed gallery and discreetly placing their orders for thepaintings mounted on the wall.
He was even more thanfamiliar with the primary artist. Jackson Colby was highly acclaimed,and his talent was well-known. His brother Jason, a sculptor, hadalso made his name. Both men were members of his club.
He had also beenpersuaded to purchase a piece for Wendy, one she insisted would lookgood in her home office. It cost more than they made in a year, butit did not faze her.
“Oh! Look atthis, darling.” She brought them to a stop before a sculpture,unmistakable clean and graceful lines. “Isn’t itlovely?”
“I hope you arenot hoping that I will purchase it for you. I am cleaned out.”
“As if you canbe.” She scoffed. Letting go of his arm, she glided over totouch the smooth surface of a man bent in a crouching position as ifshielding the woman from something dangerous. “It says somuch.”
“I am sure itdoes.” He was in dire need of a drink. Beckoning to thewhite-coated waiter, he plucked off two glasses of champagne andhanded her one. He had not wanted to come in the first place.
He had received theinvitation two weeks ago and had been about to discard them, butWendy had been horrified that he would consider doing such a thing.‘We could go.” She had said persuasively.
