The Men With the Golden Cuffs(34)
Obviously Liam wasn’t big on higher education. “So he divorced Serena and moved out here?”
Liam shook his head. “Nope. This is the house they lived in. He kicked her out.”
Asshole. “Is he still alone?”
“Nope. A grad student moved in with him about six weeks after he’d filed for divorce. Professor Doyle likes them young.” Liam shoved the tablet back in his case. “He hurt her. You can understand that, right? From what I hear, she finally gets up the courage to do something she’s wanted all her life and her husband tries to drive her into the dirt. What did that other girl on the tape say? He can’t sell his own shit? What do you want to bet that asshole in there has a crap-ass novel he’s been trying to sell for years? Some shit he thinks will change the world. He probably writes about morose yuppies and their sad-sack lives. He was jealous of her. He tried to stop her the only way a bully knows how. I’m just saying that if a woman wanted a little revenge against a man like that, maybe it’s not so horrible.”
Maybe not. And still, he needed to know the truth before he started anything with her. He couldn’t walk in blind again. But he knew what it felt like to have everything he wanted dissected under a cruel microscope of so-called morality. He wasn’t going to get to the bottom of anything if he stayed here. “Let’s go. He seems to be home.”
The car was in the driveway. Just one, like Serena had said. It seemed the good professor still made his woman take the bus.
Jake knocked on the door, Liam behind him.
A pretty blonde opened the door. She couldn’t be past twenty-three. She was dressed in a sweatshirt and shorts that rode up her ass. “Hello.”
“We’re looking for Professor Brooks. We called earlier. My name is Jacob Dean. I’m with a firm called McKay-Taggart.”
Her blue eyes went wide. “You’re here about his ex-wife. Amber Rose?”
That was her pen name. Jake felt a deep need to correct the young woman. Amber Rose was a front. Serena was a woman. “Serena Brooks.”
She turned her head as though watching for someone. When she turned back to them, her voice was hushed. “Don’t tell Doyle about it, but I just love her books. I read all kinds of romance, but I just love erotic romance. Do you think she knows Eliza Gayle? That would be so cool. Amber Rose is good, but Eliza rocks, if you know what I mean.”
Dear god, he’d found a groupie. “I don’t miss.”
She chattered on. “I think it’s horrible that someone is trying to hurt her. You should find this guy. It would be sad if she didn’t write anymore. I have all her books on my e-reader. Doyle doesn’t believe in e-books—like they don’t exist or something. He’s a little behind the times. But I read one because I was curious. He talks about those books all the time. I mean, he hates them. Doyle is just jealous because he can’t get anyone in New York to buy his two thousand page book about single people in Manhattan. He has the grossest descriptions of venereal diseases. What’s with that?”
Liam put an elbow in his side.
“Ginny, who is it?” A deep voice called out from the back of the house.
“It’s the dudes who called earlier,” Ginny screamed back. She scrunched up her nose. “Don’t you tell him I read his ex’s books. He thinks I’m all about the American masters. I need my thesis to pass muster. He’s really good friends with my professor.”
She opened the door and let them in.
Unlike Serena’s place, Professor Brooks’ home was a pin-perfect model of efficiency. Jake’s heart clenched a little at the thought of messy, fun Serena being forced to keep everything perfect. There wasn’t a book out of place or piles of notes scattered around. The home didn’t look lived in. Though it was inexpensive, it was obvious the man who lived here aspired to much more.
Doyle Brooks walked into the living room. He looked the part of the upwardly mobile intellectual, dressed in slacks, a dress shirt, and a blazer. “Gentlemen, please join me in my office.”
His office was a renovated extra bedroom refitted with dark panels and an enormous desk that looked about as full of itself as the man who sat behind it. There were numerous degrees and plaques hung neatly on the walls proclaiming just how smart and educated Doyle Brooks was. The man was only thirty. That meant he’d achieved many of those degrees while married to Serena. Serena, who had supported his ass while he went to school. Serena, who he’d dumped the moment she became difficult.
Poor little sub.
Introductions were made, and the professor seemed to take everything with a cool calm.