Naomi & Bradley, Reality Shows... (Vodka & Vice, the Series Book 3) by Angela Conrad, Kathleen Hesser Skrzypczak

even resort to gossip about models and runway shows.  They seem to relax, and I can tell by their mood that neither one of them have spoken to any of the Slotzky clan yet.
    I test the waters further by confiding that I want LaLa to sell my loft in Tribeca as soon as possible.  She claps her hands again and I can’t help but see how greed lights up her face.  Good.  I’m counting on it.
    Chase seems bored, and I see my window of opportunity closing.  I need to make my move.
    I open my purse and lay out a file of paperwork I had a top New York attorney fill out for me two days ago.  They both lean forward, like sailors going over an exciting new wave and I smile.
    “What’s this dear, your loft paperwork?” LaLa asks, putting on a little silver pair of glasses she pulls out of nowhere.
    “No.”
    She leans in and Chase, bolder, steps right up to me and grasps the top page.  He reads the title, scans down, flips the page, and keeps reading.  LaLa shoots him an annoyed glance and huffs.
    “Chase, don’t be rude, Naomi will explain.”
    “It’s okay; I want my brother to read it all, every page.”  It hurts to play pretend sibling with this man, but I will do anything to gain them to my cause.
    Chase glances at me and I notice we have the same gray shade of eyes.  I wonder why I never noticed the slight resemblances we share before now.  Weeks ago, I thought he was Darren Broderick’s brother, now I can see that he’s mine.  It hits me strange and a pang of emotion hits me in the chest.
    I study LaLa and she too has facial features like my mother.  Strangely I tear up and smile.
    “What’s wrong dear?”  My aunt asks.  I feel good that I can answer with an honest reply.
    “I’ve been without any family for over two years.  It just hit me.  I have an aunt and a brother.  I can see the likenesses in both of you, sorry.”  I wipe my eyes and see Chase examining my face for signs of treachery.  I refuse to offer him anything but an honest look. 
    Now’s the time, I take the plunge.
    “I’m sure you’ve both been watching the show, Model House with my fiancé Bradley.  You’ve seen what they are willing to do for ratings.  The owner of the studio had me filmed in a phony bed scene to influence Bradley.  They are also holding an arson charge over Bradley’s head.”
    LaLa nods and purses her lips.  I don’t know if it’s because of the stripper, the bikini models, or my movie with Viktor covering me.  Before Chase can make some smart remark and anger me, I add, “I know you both understand.  Thank you.”
    Chase flips another page and I peek up long enough to see a huge grin cover his face.  LaLa notices it too and she squints at the file.
    “What is this dear?”
    “It’s a contract.  I’m giving you all my rights to the unsold beach property and my share of the high-rise on Chambers Street, and in return, you are going to help me free Bradley early from that terrible show, clear our names, and press the owners to drop the charges against him.”
    I could see the mathematical calculations clicking off in their heads.  Millions of dollars.  I don’t care about any of it.  I want my life back.  I want my man back.  And I want to get even.
    “Join you in what exactly?” Chase asks, sounding happy and interested.
    “Why, in taking down the Slotzkys of course.”
    “Fedor Slotzky?  What’s he got to do with this show?”
    I explain to LaLa and Chase all about the FSTScom Media Group, the entire family of Slotzky’s deeper plot, and why I need their help.
    “With your increased ownership percentage, combined with mine, you can force their hand.  You promise me that you’ll make them drop the reins on Bradley, and I’ll give you everything I have.”
    I study their familiar faces, and see them exchange secretive looks.  Chase loosens his stance and grins at his mother.  I feel it.  I have them.  I toss on some sugar to finalize my cause.
    “Please, you’re my