Brandon Scott was a dead man.

Chapter 10.

This movie sucks," Tom said, as he took another swig of his Bud. "I didn't know there were people left on the planet who didn't have cable TV."

"My grandmother didn't need it," Brandon said as he sat sprawled out in his grandmother's favorite floral chair, his feet up on the matching ottoman. "All she watched were soap operas and televangelists. That weird converter box allowed her to get those on her analog TV, so she didn't bother with cable."

"Find something better before I die of boredom."

"There isn't something better."

"There was that Dragnet marathon on channel twenty-two."

"Like I said. There isn't something better."

The thought of being subjected to this kind of programming for the next several months just about killed Brandon, but his only alternative was to shell out a bundle for a new HDTV and a big monthly charge for cable. When that option came due on the Houston property, he didn't want a couple thousand bucks standing between him and being able to make the deal happen.

He'd just switched from the movie and was running the dial, when he heard a knock on his front door.

"Expecting somebody?" Tom asked.

"Nope."

Then more knocks. More very insistent knocks. What the hell?

He tossed the remote aside and went to the door, where he peered through the peephole.

Alison Carter?

Truth be told, he barely recognized her. Her brown eyes were bugged out, her nostrils flared, and her lips were all crunched up with fury. He didn't get it. She'd seemed so sweet before. But clearly she was a force to be reckoned with, kind of like a category-five hurricane.

More knocking. "Brandon! I know you're in there! Open the door!"

"Oh, God," Tom said, looking around the doorway into the entry hall. "That's not the scary Hooters waitress from Denver, is it? Brittany Whatsername? I thought you got a restraining order against her."

"Nope. It's one of my clients."

"Your clients scream at you?"

"Not so far."

He opened the door. Alison swept past him like a tidal wave crashing through the house. Then she spun around to face him, her fists rising to her hips and her brows drawing together in a tight furrow. In spite of the impending storm, he was having a hard time keeping his eyes off the cute little black dress she wore. It dipped down at her cleavage, and with every angry breath she took, her breasts shifted provocatively. Unfortunately, angry women didn't usually like it when a man's attention was on anything besides what they were hollering about, so as quickly as his gaze fell, he jerked it back up again.

"Alison?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk."

"Didn't you have a date with Greg tonight?"

"Yes," she said, her voice quivering with restraint. "And it was the worst date of my life!"

"The worst?" Brandon said skeptically. "Really?"

"I once went out with a man who brought his mother with him. That's what I'm comparing it to!"

"Wow," Tom said. "And this one was worse than that?"

"Hold on," Brandon said, raising his palm. "What happened that was so bad?"

"You set me up with a drug dealer!"

Brandon leaned away, truly shocked. Drug dealer? The man was a vegan. How many drug dealers were vegans?

"How do you know he deals drugs?" Brandon asked.

Alison's eyes narrowed into angry slits. "We were driving on the freeway. He got stopped for speeding. They ran his plates and saw the felony drug warrant. Greg had no clue the cops were onto him until they surrounded his car."

"Oh," Brandon said. "I'm guessing that's what he meant by pharmaceutical sales?"

"Yeah? You think?"

"Wait a minute. You were driving with him? Don't you know you should never get into a car with a guy you don't know on the first date?"

Alison's eyes flew open wide. "You set me up with a felon, and you're lecturing me on dating safety?"

Okay, so that was a little weak. "I'm sorry, Alison. I had no idea. Really."

"You're supposed to vet the guys I go out with. That's part of the reason I'm paying you a freakin' fortune to find me a husband!"

"Vet?"

"Are you telling me you don't do background checks?"

Brandon froze. Background checks?

Thinking back, he realized now his grandmother had done those, but it had completely slipped his mind that maybe he should be doing them himself. If his grandmother had indeed checked Greg out, maybe it was before there was a warrant out for his arrest. Brandon didn't know exactly what had happened, only that he couldn't afford for it to happen again.

"You can't imagine how humiliating it was," Alison said hotly. "I had to stand on the side of the road while the cops handcuffed my date and stuffed him inside a police car. They were going to drag me in, too. Guilt by association. It was all I could do to convince them that I'd never even met him before tonight and the strongest drug I'd ever touched was Tylenol PM."

"So where were you when this happened?"

"On I-35 just outside downtown Dallas."

"That's at least fifteen miles from here. How did you get home?"

"Oh, no problem there. One of the cops gave me a ride back to my car at the restaurant. Everybody in the whole neighborhood thought it was positively riveting to watch me get out of a police car."

"I've always wondered what the inside of a police car was like," Tom said, his eyes alight with interest. "I hear the backseat is plastic so when somebody's arrested for DUI and they barf, they can just wash it out with a hose."

"Where the hell did you read that?" Brandon said.

"On Ask dot com. You can learn all kinds of things there. For instance, do you know what the loudest animal on earth is?"

Alison looked at him with disbelief, then turned slowly back to Brandon. "Who's this?"

"A friend. Alison, this is Tom. Tom, this is Alison. She's one of my clients."

"No. Past tense. I was one of your clients. I want my money back. Every penny. And I want it now."

"Uh-oh," Tom said. He pulled Brandon aside and whispered, "I read in Entrepreneur magazine that whenever a customer asks for a refund, eight out of ten times you can talk him out of it as long as you-"

"Go away," Brandon snapped.

"But-"

"Now."

Tom turned to Alison. "I'm going away now. But in case you were wondering, it's the blue whale. A hundred and eighty-eight decibels. They can be heard from-"

"Go!" Brandon said.

As Tom disappeared into the den, Brandon turned to Alison. "I can explain."

"Yeah?" she said, folding her arms and looking at him expectantly, that scowl still stuck to her face. "Let's hear it."

"Well, I'm just now learning my grandmother's procedures," he said, willing his brain to come up with something. "It appears there was a...glitch."

"A glitch?"

"Greg came to my grandmother a few months ago. I'm thinking the warrant must have happened after she ran his background check. I know now that I should update them at a certain point, but I guess this one just got past me."

He gave her an I'm sorry please don't hate me look that he sincerely hoped would appeal to her forgiving side. He wasn't sure it was working.

He took a step closer to her, running a hand through his hair, then blowing out a breath. "I'm going to level with you, Alison. This business is important to me. Really important. I have to make it a success. If you could possibly see your way clear to overlook this one tiny error-"

"Tiny error? Really, Brandon? Tiny?"

"Okay. It was a big mistake. But it's one that'll never happen again. But the question is, did you like Greg?"

She looked aghast. "Like him? The man is a drug dealer!"

"I mean before you found that out. Were you having a good time?"

"Oh, yeah. Our date was a real barrel of laughs."

"Alison. Before you found out what he was."

She paused. "Well, yeah. I guess. But-"

"Did you have things in common?"

"Yes, but-"

"Did you find him physically attractive?"

"Well, yeah. But-"

Brandon held up his palm. "Now, see there? I set you up with a guy you really liked, didn't I? I mean, if you overlook the fact that he ended up in jail."

She shook her head dumbly. "Did you just hear yourself?"

"I know. Strange conversation. But if you think about it, otherwise he was a solid match. I can do it again, only this time, I'll make sure the guy is squeaky clean."

"So you're telling me your plan is to give me Greg minus the felony warrant?"

"Well, yeah," he said. "More or less. If you'll give me another chance, I know I can set you up with the right guy."

He gave her the most sincere look of contrition he could muster. A few seconds passed, and even though she still had her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed, he could tell her anger was losing steam.

"It was horrible to get stopped by the police," she said.

He nodded sympathetically. "I know."

"I felt like a criminal."

"I understand."

"I'll probably have nightmares."

"I'm really sorry about that."

"It was traumatic."

"Trust me, Alison. This was a random glitch. It will never happen again."

"I'd have to be out of my mind to let you set me up again."

"Look. I really want this business to be a success. I need it to be a success. But if one of my first clients is dissatisfied, what chance do I have?"

Alison opened her mouth to say something else, only to close it again. "Don't do that."