A Price to Pay Read online

  Taylor sat up straight, hoping that Claire’s solution didn’t involve some type of trust fund she would have to remind her again that she didn’t have.

  “Be an alibi!” Claire scooted close to Taylor on the sofa and showed her the web site she had found.

  Taylor read it out loud. “Make money being an alibi. Whether it’s a job reference, suspicious boyfriend, or a school confirming an unexcused absence, students will pay you to back them up.”

  She frowned suspiciously. “Is that legal?”

  Claire shrugged her shoulder. “It has a web site, so doesn’t that mean it’s legal?”

  Taylor couldn’t believe she was serious. “No, and it’s not a web site. It’s a blog.”

  “I heard it pays pretty well.”

  “But is it legal?” Taylor was willing to do a lot of things, but not break the law. She was a cop’s daughter and a cop’s sister. She couldn’t break the law.

  Could she?

  3

  As Carter made his way to the roped-off VIP section of Sky Bar, the hot, outdoor nightclub in L.A., he heard a woman call his name. It was very vain of him, but he didn’t always turn around. Women were always calling his name. They all knew who he was and came on to him constantly. Gold diggers came in every shape, size, and color, and he was an expert at spotting them.

  But Carter chose to turn around this time, out of curiosity, because the voice sounded void of excited flirtation. From the tone of her voice, laced with demand, he expected to see someone he knew. He didn’t expect who he saw: his sister Leigh.

  “Dammit.” Carter could foresee a big problem.

  Twenty-eight-year-old Dr. Leigh Chase hardly went out to the clubs. She hardly went anywhere now that Hope Clinic, her free clinic for HIV/AIDS patients, had recently opened another branch in Compton. She traveled between this clinic and the original one in East L.A. constantly.

  Despite graduating in the top five percent at Stanford, with a Human Biology degree, and the top ten percent at Duke Medical School, Leigh decided to forgo all the prestigious medical programs and private practices waiting in line to have her. She chose instead to travel to Africa and administer care to women and children stricken with HIV/AIDS. When she returned to L.A., much to the disappointment of her parents, Leigh poured a significant amount of her trust fund, with the help of donations, starting Hope.

  The clinic was her life, and although there was a lot of tragedy connected to its beginning, it was her solace from the misfortune of being a poor little rich girl. She could forget everything when she was there, so she was always there, and couldn’t wait to get back whenever she wasn’t.

  She was the embodiment of the image that their parents wanted to project for the Chase name. Leigh was sweet, smart, and pretty. She could be a little too soft in dealing with people, but was stronger than most expected. She was naturally feminine and men loved that about her. She was beautiful in a non-threatening way; more cute than hot. She wore no makeup and kept her soft, dark brown hair in a clip. When she dressed up, as she usually did for a Chase Foundation event, Leigh could look amazing. She looked like what their mother called, “a well bred woman.”

  Even when she wasn’t working or attending a charity event held by the Chase Foundation, she didn’t go out. She’d been unlucky in love and had pretty much written off a social life. She spent her time on more highbrow entertainment—operas and plays.

  “What are you doing here?” Carter asked as soon as she reached him.

  “Hi,” Leigh responded. “Nice to see you too.”

  “I mean, yeah . . . well, I just didn’t expect to see you here.”

  Leigh frowned suspiciously. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Why would you assume something is wrong?”

  “After Dad,” she answered, “you’re the most confident man I know and you’re nervous, so what’s up?”

  “You look great.” He gestured to the peach, pleated cocktail dress she had on. “Got a date?”

  “I’m here with my friend, Alicia.” Leigh hadn’t had a date since she ended it with her last boyfriend, Hollywood mega-star Lyndon Prior. After Leigh was almost attacked by his best friend, Nick Gagan, Lyndon had chosen to protect his image rather than help her get justice. That was the end of their relationship, and thanks to her father’s power and influence, the end of Lyndon’s career. No one even knew where he was now. Certainly no longer in L.A., where he had shot off the A-list the second a manufactured gay relationship with Nick which resulted in a drug-induced assault was attached to his name.

  “You don’t usually come to the . . .”

  “What is going on?” Leigh pulled on his shirt, determined to know now. “On the prowl?”

  “You know I’m with Julia,” Carter said with a mischievous smile.

  Leigh tilted her head to the side as she smirked at her big brother. “And I know you slept with Jasmine Cobb last month too.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I introduced you at our spring charity ball, remember? You drove her home and she blabbed to everyone that she slept with you. Then she called me ten times every day asking why you hadn’t called her back.”

  Carter shrugged. “Yeah, well it’s complicated. If you ever got back in the dating game you might find out.”

  “Son of a bitch!”

  Carter at first thought she was reacting to his playful brotherly insult, but she was looking beyond him. She was looking at what Carter hadn’t wanted her to see.

  “Do you see this?” Leigh grabbed her brother, swinging him around. “I can’t believe him. What an asshole.”

  The asshole was Michael, their brother, standing in the VIP section with his tongue practically down the throat of a caramel-colored beauty in a tight black dress that showed her considerable, and probably purchased, assets.

  “I have it under control,” Carter said as Leigh was already starting for him.

  “This is exactly what Mom was talking about,” she said.

  “It’s not any of your business.” Carter waved to the bouncer in front of the section and they were quickly let in.

  Michael only had a second to prepare for Leigh’s onslaught as she started in on him immediately.

  “What are you doing?” she asked. She turned to the woman who looked none too happy to see her. “You know that he’s married, right? Of course you do. The ring is right there on his finger.”

  “Who in the hell are you?” the woman asked, ready to defend her prey.

  “She’s my sister,” Michael answered, half laughing. “Leigh at the club. Is this a special occasion or what?”

  “Did you listen to anything Mother said to you?” she asked. “A picture of you and this . . . whatever, is going to be on the gossip blogs tomorrow if not ton . . .”

  “Hey!” The woman, seeming a step behind, appeared to take issue with being called a “whatever.”

  Leigh ignored her. “If you don’t have any respect for your own marriage, at least respect the family enough to keep your whoring out of the public eye.”

  “We’re just talking,” Michael said. The woman had sent him a drink and he had called her over as soon as Carter stepped away to take a call. He was going to take her home tonight, have sex and be home by morning.

  “Yeah, right.”

  “That’s enough, Leigh.” Carter took her by the arm and pulled her a step away from Michael. “I have this under control.”

  “Do you?” she asked. “You’re doing the same thing. May not be as bad because you’re not married, but . . . Dammit, Michael. Why don’t you get divorced already?”

  This got Michael’s attention and he stood up straight, leaning forward, practically pushing the woman out of his way with the force of his body. He didn’t notice. He didn’t care anymore. He didn’t even know her name.

  “I am fucking sick and tired of everyone sticking their nose in my marriage,” he seethed. “Mind your own goddamn business, Leigh.”

  Leigh just leaned back
, feeling pity for her brother more than anything. He was clearly miserable. “You’re an embarrassment to this family.”

  She was already turning to walk away as Michael called after her, “Someone has to balance out your perfection.”

  Carter turned to the woman who was still standing there with a clueless expression on her face. “You have a nice evening.”

  She looked at him blankly for a couple of seconds before catching his drift. She turned to Michael in hopes he would keep her there, but Michael was already detached from her, searching for his beer on the table behind them. With a huff, she turned and walked away in search of another wallet.

  Michael found his drink and turned back to Carter. “Don’t you start in on me again.”

  “What is your fucking problem?” Carter asked, leaning in so those looking—and someone was always looking—couldn’t hear. “You treat Kimberly like shit, but the second someone suggests you get rid of her, you blow up.”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  But Carter did understand. Eight years ago Michael had called him up late at night to tell him he’d gotten a girl pregnant and wanted to marry her. Michael was in business school at Columbia and Carter was at Harvard Law. Their closeness had existed forever, only growing tighter when they were both sent off to boarding school on the East Coast. They were best friends who always told each other the truth, kept each other’s secrets to the death, and occasionally tried to beat the living tar out of each other.

  Carter helped Michael take painstaking measures to hide Kimberly’s past from their parents. They had no choice. They were Chases. They weren’t even supposed to marry outside of their social set, the upper crust of black families in America. Even a girl from a rich family didn’t qualify if their money was only one generation on. A middle-class girl was out of the question. Someone like Kimberly, someone who was invisible to people like his parents, was a disaster in their eyes. And they hadn’t even known about the hooker part.

  Carter had kept that secret and Michael married Kimberly to protect the family name. If there was anything Janet wouldn’t tolerate, it was bastard kids with the Chase name. So their parents swallowed their disappointment and Kimberly joined the family.

  “I’m not done with Kimberly,” Michael said.

  “You sound like a fucking maniac.” Carter grabbed his brother by the arm, pulling him closer. “You’ve overdosed on the revenge, Michael. It’s killing you both and hurting the . . .”

  “Stop.” Michael jerked his arm away. “Leave my kids out of this. Jesus, Carter. I was just trying to have some fun.”

  Michael had never been completely faithful to Kimberly. It wasn’t in his blood. He’d cheated on her twice during the seven good years of their marriage, before she ruined his life. That wasn’t counting trips to Las Vegas. None of those women ever meant anything more than a boost to his ego. Sex had never been as good with anyone as it was with Kimberly. And he had never loved anyone as much as he loved her. Now, he knew he would never hate anyone more, either.

  “When will you be done with her?” Carter asked.

  Michael tried to keep control as he felt the rage building. Just above a breath, he answered, “When I stop wanting her.”

  Carter just shook his head. He didn’t know what else to do for Michael. They had always helped each other out and backed each other up. “I know about Elisha.”

  Michael stared at him, trying to figure out what to say. Elisha Fisher was the broker working the deal that Michael hoped would get him back in his father’s good graces: the purchase of a publishing company, expanding Chase Enterprises to luxury and private-wealth-management magazines.

  Michael just smiled. “What can I say? She’s a redhead. You know I have a weakness for those . . .”

  “She’s not just a one-night stand, right?”

  Michael shrugged. “She’s more like an extended one-night stand. As soon as the deal is done, I’ll get rid of her. I have to make this deal happen.”

  Carter folded his arms across his chest. “If you really want to get Dad to talk to you, stop this self-destructive behavior. Anything that hurts Mom, makes him angry.”

  Carter knew Michael lived for their father’s approval. It was a disease they shared, but Michael took it a level higher, to a form of worship. Michael lived for King Chase, as they had named him long ago. He’d chosen to constantly seek to please a man who was nearly impossible to please.

  “He’d do anything for you,” Carter added. “He’s done that.”

  “And he hates me for making him,” Michael said somberly. “This is all my fault to him. He says I should have never started this lie in the first place. If I had handled this whole thing right from the beginning, everything would be fine. Instead, you, me, Mom, Dad are accessories to murder. If only . . .”

  “If ‘if’ was a fifth, we’d all be drunk.” Carter saw the edges of Michael’s mouth attempt to curve into a brief smile. “The truth is, if Mom and Dad weren’t such snobs, you wouldn’t have felt the need to lie to them in the first place. It’s their unreasonable expectations that set this in motion. Dad knows that.”

  But Carter knew Michael couldn’t hear him. Michael wasn’t trying to hear any truth right now.

  Carter knew he was wicked to find so much joy in ringing the doorbell of a house he was paying for. It was Avery’s townhouse in View Park. It cost a measly six hundred thousand dollars and Carter knew that his child support checks of eight thousand dollars a month, were paying the rent and everything else. Anthony could no longer afford the mortgage now that he’d lost his job as a professor at Occidental College and was relegated to teaching in an L.A. public high school.

  Carter loved it. He’d used his influence to get Occidental to offer Anthony a plush job as a statistics professor with a six-figure income plus great benefits. This contact also set him up with a real estate agent that showed him this townhouse in a neighborhood that Carter had already known Avery liked.

  Carter knew Avery would want to stay home with Connor, so Anthony would be their sole provider. He refused to use Carter’s money for anything other than Connor. But Carter was already providing everything for his daughter. So when Anthony lost his job only a few months into it, also through Carter’s influence, Carter’s child support was the only thing paying their bills.

  Carter liked it best when Anthony got upset at an “innocent” mistake Carter made, just like he was about to do now. After dropping his drunk brother off at his home, Carter had headed right to View Park after taking a phone call from his mother. Janet was upset because she found that her day tomorrow with Connor was being intercepted by Nikki Jackson, Avery’s mother. She told Carter that Nikki had Connor tonight so Avery and Anthony could have a romantic dinner at home, alone.

  Not anymore. Trying to hold back his grin, Carter knew he’d probably missed the dinner, but had a chance to spoil the rest of the evening.

  He heard footsteps on the hardwood floor coming toward him. It was Anthony, and Carter would have paid an endless sum to see the expression on his face when he looked through the peephole and saw him.

  The door swung open and Carter was met with an immediate, “What do you want?”

  Carter smiled as always, looking Anthony over. “How ya doing, Anthony?”

  “I was fine until now.” Anthony blocked Carter’s view into the house.

  “I came to see Connor.”

  Anthony looked amazed at Carter’s arrogance. “You know you’re supposed to call before you come over.”

  “She didn’t tell you?” Carter asked. “I called Avery and told her. This seems to happen a lot. She doesn’t tell you about our phone conversations anymore. I wonder why.”

  “Bullshit,” Anthony spat back. “Avery would have never agreed to let you come over tonight.”

  “Why not?”

  Anthony was about to speak, but held back. He studied Carter’s expression and seemed to finally get what Carter had hoped he would. “How did you know?�
��

  “Know what?” Carter heard Avery coming.

  “You knew we were planning an evening together.” Anthony’s voice raised just enough to let Carter know this blow-up would come fast.

  “How could I know that?” Carter asked.

  Just then, Avery pushed her way to the front door. It was Carter. He looked a little ragged and tired and she was angry that it bothered her to see it.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I came to . . .”

  “To ruin our evening,” Anthony said. “He couldn’t stand it that we’re having a romantic night.”

  “What are you talking about?” Carter asked as he laughed innocently. “Can I at least know what I’m being yelled at for? I was just at my parents’ house and this place is on my way home. I saw the lights on and thought I’d come by and drop off some applications for our daughter.”

  Anthony cringed, as he hated it every time Carter used the words “our daughter.” Carter knew it reminded him of the bond he and Avery would always have.

  “What applications?” Avery stood in front of Anthony, trying to defuse the situation. There was no way Carter could have known. The only person that knew was her mother and Nikki couldn’t stand Carter. She’d never let him in on anything.

  “For St. Anne’s preschool.” Carter handed her the folder that he had left in his Maybach for a week, waiting for the right time to use the applications to interrupt the married couple. “Can you fill these out and send them to the school?”

  “You had to come by at ten on a Friday night to give us some paper?” Anthony asked. “Avery, you can’t be fooled by this.”

  “I was expecting them.” Avery turned to Anthony and gave him her look; the one that told him to slow his roll. Ten minutes ago he was laughing, talking about the crazy kids in his class. Now, he was acting like a sullen, spoiled child.

  Anthony looked incredulous. “She’s six months old. What would she need preschool applications for?”

  Avery looked the sheets over. “It’s true that we have to apply now for that school. It’s the hardest to get into in L.A. and everyone has to do it early.”