Without bothering to look, Alexa gave him the list. “Here you go.” If any of her employees had kidnapped his sister or worse, he would never forgive her. Acid spilled into her stomach, but she swallowed the sour lump in her throat and peered at Jackie, asking calmly, “What else?”
Jackie stood, then shifted from foot to foot, visibly uncomfortable with the silent threat Brooks represented against House of Alexa. “I saved the interviews we had with her on this pen drive,” she said, fishing the small device out from the folder. She handed him the folder and the pen drive.
“Thank you,” Brooks said, quick to open the folder and study its contents.
“Anything else you need?” Alexa looked at Brooks.
“Not for now,” he said.
Jackie nodded. “I need to check our liquor order, but please call me if you need me, I’ll be in my office,” she said, before dashing out of the office.
Brooks squinted at the list, probably trying to see if he recognized any names. “This helps a lot. I know a guy I can ask to do a background check on these people and find out if any of them have any history of domestic violence or anything that could point us in the right direction.”
Alexa’s shoulders dropped a notch, temporary relief loosening the ball of tension in her stomach. At least he could count on someone with experience to help him and hopefully figure out what had happened. Did this mean he no longer needed her? The idea should have brought her further relief, but instead, her body tensed up again, worse than before. “That’s a good idea.”
“These videos…it’s strange to me…” He rubbed his temple, looking away. “If I watch them…”
Alexa rocked back in her chair. “There’s nothing sexual about them. I ask them questions and they answer. No nudity. It’s just a standard interview I review later to figure out who’s the best fit,” she said matter-of-factly. “It’s no different than the questions I asked Scott.” Inwardly, she doubted her words would comfort him. After all, he was about to see a video of his late sister. Her heart tightened in her chest.
He inched closer, and a veneer of vulnerability cloaked him, his cocoa-colored eyes a tad darker. “Will you watch them with me?”
…
Brooks popped his knuckles, jaw clenching. He’d hoped by watching the recordings he’d find some clue as to why Pamela had made that decision—to sell her virginity in an auction. Alexa had brought him to her viewing room, a small room with a projector and two oversize reclining chairs. She turned off the lights, and the ambiance reminded him of a tiny movie theater.
He was about to see Pamela in the worst light. Nausea rolled in his stomach, and cold sweat slicked his forehead.
Alexa, sitting next to him, reached out and took his hand in hers, squeezing it. “Are you sure? If you want, I can watch by myself and take notes.”
“I’m sure,” he said. He motioned to move his hand, which prompted her to clasp it more tightly, and coincidently, the nausea eased, and he breathed easier. When he’d asked her to watch the video with him, he’d repeated to himself the reason had been purely pragmatic. It’d be much easier to ask Alexa a question in real time than later.
Now, in the safety of the darkness, the truth boiled in his chest. He needed Alexa to be with him, to watch Pamela in her last video before she died. A video that no brother wanted to see his sister in.
He reached for his collar to loosen it, but when he touched his neck, it dawned on him he wore a collarless shirt. He rubbed his neck, fidgeting, having a hard time sitting still. But he remained, gathering his strength as Alexa pressed play from a remote.
The screen lit up, and the image of Pamela, wearing a blue shirt and jeans, appeared before him. She sat on a chair, like the ones in Alexa’s office, and had a mug of coffee on the side table next to her.
“Hi. I’m Pamela Johnson, twenty-five years old, from Texas.”
“I’ve read your application, Pamela. Why do you think you’d be a good fit for the auction?” Alexa’s voice sounded. He couldn’t see her on camera but could tell she was close to Pamela.
Pamela stared straight into the camera, without a flinch. “Because I’ve waited to meet a nice guy for a long time, and that hasn’t happened. So I decided to kill two birds with one stone and at least make some money off of my virginity.”
“Sounds practical enough. Do you understand whoever bids the highest will have you at their service for a maximum of thirty days? We have some rules in place to guarantee your safety—no violent acts, no sex unless you agree. But we can’t pick the highest bidder for you. He might be sixty years old, unattractive, annoying.”
“I understand. I grew up on a farm. I can work really hard, and I can certainly pretend for one month.”
“Good. Also, is there someone in your life who would be against you doing this? Your parents, a boyfriend, a concerned friend?”
The camera zoomed in on her, and Pamela looked at the floor for a moment, before facing the lenses again. “My mother has passed. No one will be concerned about me. I have no one else.”
Her words were like stones thrown at him, coming from all angles. After her mother had passed, she’d become even more aware of all she’d lost by being the unclaimed daughter of Craig Taylor. And all that Brooks had gained—the intact family, the alive mother, the wealth, the opportunities.
Suddenly, the reason why she’d done this dawned on him. “She wanted to make it on her own.”
Alexa paused the clip and looked at him. “What?”
“She wanted the money to become rich on her own, to stick it to our father,
