Capital Wives by Rochelle Alers Page A

that I was coming on to your wife?”
    Lifting broad shoulders under his tailored suit jacket, Spencer feigned an expression of innocence. “I really don’t know. I suppose I’d had too much to drink that night and when I saw you holding Dee’s hand I kind of lost it.”
    â€œYou did more than lose it. You threatened to kick an old man’s ass.”
    â€œWell, you did call me son, ” Spencer shot back. It was an expression he hated almost as much as boy.
    â€œAnd you took that the wrong way, too.”
    â€œI told you I was a little drunk.”
    Damon leaned over the small space separating them. “You weren’t as drunk as you were scared. It’s not easy to remain in control when your whore shows up unexpectedly.” It was hard for him to keep a straight face when Spencer looked as if he was going to fall off his chair. “You’re smart, Tyson, but I just happen to be a little smarter than you, son. I would’ve let you off the hook that night and chalked your reaction to me holding Deanna’s hand as a jealous husband protecting his woman. But you made a serious, a very serious faux pas when you threatened me.
    â€œThe reason I didn’t have drinks with you last week was because the man I had checking into your background still hadn’t given me his final report. I know all about you, Spencer James Tyson. I know the day, hour and minute you were born, the address of the house where you spent the first ten years of your life on Chicago’s South Side and the names of the women you’ve screwed after you married your beautiful wife.” He held up a hand to stop Spencer when he opened his mouth. “I know what you’re going to say. How can I accuse you of being unfaithful when I cheated on my first wife? I’lladmit I did, but I had what I consider a very good reason. If you don’t get it at home, then you have to get it elsewhere.”
    â€œI don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Spencer said when Damon paused to sip his drink.
    A sardonic smile parted Damon’s firm mouth. “You’re so wrong. You know exactly what I’m talking about, but you’re going to play the innocent. Man the fuck up, Tyson!” he snarled between clenched teeth. “Just come out and say, yeah, I fuck around on my wife.”
    The tight rein on Spencer’s temper loosened. “And so what if I do?” he said recklessly. “I do it, you did it and so do a million men every day and every hour.” Rage roiled through him with the force of a twister. “What are you going to do now? Go back and tell Deanna that I’m cheating on her?”
    Damon swirled the clear, icy liquid around in the glass, his gaze fixed on the lemon peel. “No.” His gaze shifted to the man who looked as if he was going to burst into tears at any second. “No,” he repeated. “I’m not into breaking up marriages. What I want to do is help you save yours.”
    Spencer’s prominent Adam’s apple moved up and down like a bobblehead doll. “My marriage isn’t in trouble.”
    Damon’s eyebrows inched up a fraction. “You think not? What do you think will happen if your wife finds out that you’re sleeping with another woman? I can assure you she won’t be that forgiving.” He paused. “What do you want?”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œWhat do you want for your future?”
    The sweep hand on Spencer’s watch made a full revolution as he appeared deep in thought. It was the same question one of the senior partners at the firm had asked him during a breakfast interview. He’d been so nervous that he’d forgotten to eat—something he rarely did. Now the emotion was back, holding him an unwilling captive.
    â€œI want to become senior partner.”
    Damon smiled at the waitress when she returned to the table with a tray of hot