“He was strategic in how he set things up so he’d never take the fall,” Dex says. “I’m not sure how much it would matter if hedidname him. Speaking of thanking God, I’m pretty damn grateful this morning I got my name out of that place months ago.”
“I can’t believe Dad tried to setyouup to take the fall,” I say.
“I don’t think that’s what it was. I genuinely think he just wanted my connections, and he was willing to pay me for them.”
“Why do we always defend him?” I ask.
He gives me a wry smile as he shrugs. “Because he’s our father, and he raised us to do that.”
I set my hand on my forehead. “This is such a mess. I’m supposed to be cleaning things up, and instead it feels like I’m in an even bigger mess protecting a man who has nevershown any loyalty to me when it might not even matter.” I realize I’m using Maverick’s words, but it’s true.
“What’s going on between you and Jennings?” he asks.
My eyes dart away from him, which is a dead giveaway.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he mutters.
“I didn’t mean to fall for him,” I say softly.
He wrinkles his nose. “Fall for him?”
I lift a shoulder. “But in the moment, I still chose Dad. Over Maverick. Over my job. I told Maverick I could protect both, but I don’t know if I can.”
“Yeah. If the only way to clear Maverick’s name is to name Dad as the brains behind the operation, you’re pretty well fucked.”
“Thanks,” I say dryly. “I need to make a call before I head to the Complex.”
He nods as he walks toward my door. “I’ll see you around.”
I dial Ellie’s number as soon as the door clicks shut behind my brother. It’s early, but I figure I’ll just leave a voicemail—until she answers.
“Everleigh, hi. I saw the news about Maverick,” she answers.
“Do you ever sleep?” I ask.
She chuckles. “No. My youngest came in with a nightmare at five, and I was up so I checked headlines. I guess that was a mistake. What do you know?”
I debate exactly how honest to be here. On the one hand, she’s become a friend. I could confide in her that Maverick and I have a relationship that’s more than just brand strategist and client. But I don’t necessarily want her to know my own connection to that casino. The fewer people who know, the better. Loose lips sink ships and all that.
I clear my throat. “The DA will work with him if he gives up information about the operators, but he’s staying quiet.”
“Then we make him talk,” she suggests.
I’m quiet a beat as I consider that, but I’m still stuck here. I can’t let him turn my own father in. It’ll be a far worse punishment for a felony operating illegal casinos versus a misdemeanor for getting caught at one. “I don’t think we can make him do much of anything.”
“True. Okay, so we either make him look like an innocent bystander who didn’t know this was an illegal operation, or we own it and sell the redemption story hard,” she says.
“I don’t think it’s plausible he didn’t know. He was in the basement of a casino with a coded door,” I point out.
“How do you know?”
I can’t exactly say it was because I once saw him there and was thwarted by my own father, so I make up an excuse. “He told me.”
“Right. Then he owns it, and we bury it. We release a controlled statement, flood the media with something else, control the narrative, and cross our fingers that his sponsors don’t start dropping him.”
“What would you flood the media with?” I ask, scared to hear the answer but already knowing what it is.
“I wouldn’t use his mother, if that’s what you’re asking,” she says quietly. “It’s insensitive even though it would help solve a lot of this.”
