Page 23 of All Out of Love

Although his driver said yes sir like it was no big deal, everybody else in that limo were floored. “The police station?” his father asked him. “Have you lost your mind, Grayson? Why on earth would you be going to the police station?”

“Someone needs my help.”

“This Jameesha person? Are you joking?”

“She needs my help.”

“Then send an attorney darling,” his mother said. “You have reams of them.”

“And who is she anyway?” his father asked him again.

Dena, even more upset than his parents, couldn’t contain herself any longer. “She’s been working at the mansion.”

Sebastian looked at her. “At the mansion? At Grayson’s house?”

“Yes sir.”

“In what capacity?”

She glanced at Grayson before answering. When Grayson didn’t give her that look of disapproval he was known for, she replied. “One of the temp agencies sent her over to answer phones while our regular girl is out on maternity leave.”

“That’s who this Jameesha person is? A temporary worker answering phones?” Neither of his parents understood as they both looked at their son. “You’re going to risk your reputation for a temp agency person who answers phones for you?” His father was beside himself with umbrage.

“What’s the meaning of this, Grayson?” his mother asked, as she was equally perturbed. “I clearly don’t understand it, but if you must intervene then let the attorneys handle it. Grayson?”

“Is she pregnant?” his father asked pointblank and all three women quickly looked at Grayson.

Grayson wanted to toss every one of them out of his limousine. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said to his father.

“Then why are you doing this?” his mother asked. “Just tell us why when the lawyers can handle this.”

But Grayson wasn’t listening anymore. An attorney could try to get her out on bail alright. But given the allegations as she laid them out to him, he knew that wasn’t going to be good enough. He had to get those charges dropped. He didn’t even know the woman, but even he knew she wasn’t capable of aiding and abetting a robbery that turned into a shooting. He had to handle this himself.

It was an absurd tale of beer and lunch meat and a struggle for a gun and a police chase and everything else she said in between. Just preposterous on every level. But he believed her.

Maybe it was the way she took such care to comb his hair. Or the way she gave him advice on his disheveled appearance at work when nobody else had ever dared to so much as mention it. Maybe it was as simple as that earnest, compassionate look in her golden eyes. But for some unfathomable reason, he believed her. He believed every single word she said.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

When they realized who had just walked into that detention center, they took him into a back office where he waited for only a few minutes for the police commissioner himself to arrive. It wasn’t everyday that a Carrington walked into their facility asking for the release of a serious felony suspect, and when the police chief and colonel couldn’t give him any satisfaction, he asked to see Ollie, as he called him. And as quickly as the phone call was made, it seemed that Oliver Norman, the commissioner, was walking in.

After a very brief meeting with the colonel in charge, the commissioner was then handed a folder and escorted to the same room that housed their distinguished visitor.

The first thing Oliver noticed was the appearance of their visitor. Smartly dressed in a well-tailored black suit, a knee-length black coat, a white shawl around his neck, a pair of pristine Oxfords on his feet, and a pair of leather gloves to protect from the chilly night air dangling casually in his hands, Grayson Carrington did not look the part of a man who would even know a serious felon.

But Oliver stepped into the room ready to gladhand and place nice. “Hello Grayson,” he said jovially as Grayson stood up and the two men shook hands. Then they both sat down beside each other.

“I haven’t seen you in a month of Sundays,” Oliver said. “And your rare night out on the town has been disturbed I see.”

“Why would you think so?” Grayson asked sarcastically. “Don’t you know I simply adore visiting detention centers in the greater Baltimore area?”

The commissioner laughed out loud. He and Grayson went way back. Then he opened the folder. “Let’s see what we have here.” He looked at the photo held in place by a paper clip. “Not bad for a mugshot.” Then he looked at the name. “Jameesha Latoya Morgan. A temp worker.” He glanced at Grayson. Why the hell would he be fooling around with a temp worker? Then he kept reading. “Thirty-one years old.”

Grayson was surprised that he had guessed her age almost to the year. But Oliver had a different thought. “Kind of old for your type, isn’t she? I thought you only fooled around with twenty-somethings.”

“I only fool around with those who gives me the least amount of trouble and who demands the least amount of my time,” Grayson fired back. “Twenty-somethings usually fit the bill.”

“Yet here you are, in a detention center this time of night, fooling around with Jameesha. She sounds like plenty of trouble to me pal.”