“Bordering Canada.”
“Is that a real name?”
“For some people. It wasn’t her real name.”
May knit her brows in thought. “Was she a hooker?”
Ben stared without seeing the ice in his glass. “I wish. It turned out she was a reporter. An undercover reporter.”
“What’s so bad about that? Was she working on a story about you and your BDSM proclivities?”
He craned his neck to release a crack. “I don’t want to get into the details. Suffice it to say, she might have screwed up Uncle Gordon’s chances of being elected mayor.”
“How?”
The waitress returned to see if he wanted another kuusu, but he ordered water instead.
“I had suggested Ezra Rosenstein and some other local developers form what’s called an I.E., or independent expenditure. In Oakland, there are limits to how much an individual or business can contribute to a candidate, but there are no limits on I.E.s. Ezra agreed to chair the I.E., but he kept communicating with me about it. Kim—Montana got wind of it, and an article was published in the San Francisco Tribune.”
“What’s the big deal?”
“It’s against the rules for an I.E. to coordinate with a candidate’s campaign. Because of that article, the state is investigating Uncle Gordon for collusion.”
Ben cursed himself. If he had been more careful, if he hadn’t let his cock do the thinking—or lack thereof—none of this might have come to pass. He had figured out early on that something was up with Kimani. He had been given ample clues in the beginning, and even when he knew she hadn’t participated in the Scarlet Auction because she was hard up for money, as she had claimed, he’d ignored all the warning signs. His drive to be with her, to share with her all that he could do to her, overrode his better judgment.
As angry as he was at Kimani, he was angrier at himself.
“I fucked up,” he muttered.
May had been silent in thought. “That still doesn’t explain why you won’t say her name. Her real name.”
Going over everything that had happened with Kimani had agitated him, and he wondered if Yuki was still around. Or maybe his security detail, Bataar, would be willing to spar with him despite the late hour.
“Because women meddle,” Ben retorted. “They like to play matchmaker and shit like that.”
“Fine. I won’t deny I’m curious to look up who she is; who’s this slut that got under my brother’s skin.”
“Anyone who tries to fuck over our family would get under my skin.”
“Yeah, but you’ve come across dozens of people like that. Remember Cousin Chang? He stole twelve million dollars from the Lee Corporation. You weren’t as pissed about that.”
“
That’s just money. Uncle Gordon deserves to be mayor.”
“But you said people had to pressure him to throw his name in the hat. So running for mayor wasn’t something that Uncle was dying to do.”
Gordon had told Ben that he could return contentedly to his existing job if he lost.
“It doesn’t matter how it started,” Ben said. “Uncle Gordon is giving it his all. Without doubt, he’s the best candidate for the job. It would benefit everyone if he won.”
“Not to mention the Lee Corporation and our waterfront development there. Speaking of which, I thought you wanted to head that up because Uncle was running for mayor.”
Ben stiffened. That had been the primary reason for his stay in San Francisco. That, and to recruit an American baller to play for the Golden Phoenix, the Chinese Basketball Association team sponsored by his father. He had returned empty-handed on that front.
“Stone in our San Francisco office is the project manager. He can get the job done.”
“Well, that was always the case, wasn’t it? You opted to be the lead. Now you’re opting out.”