At that moment, right when her non-defeatist spirit really began to kick in, Vince appeared.
‘Hi,’ she said, summoning just enough interest in her tone so as not to appear rude.
She didn’t know what to think about Vince at this point. He’d gone out of his way to show her kindness and impress her, but then today, when she’d seen him with the truck driver, something about the scene gave her the creeps.
‘Well, hello boss,’ he said, beaming like the proverbial Cheshire cat. ‘I see you’ve got yourself a real drink there. None of this spritzer business for you, eh?’
‘I needed to treat myself,’ she confessed. ‘It’s been a tricky week, a tricky day,’ she added pointedly.
Vince rested his elbow against the bar and shifted from one foot to the other. His expression grew forlorn, and to Dee, he seemed genuinely remorseful. There wasn’t a hint of a lie in the way he held himself.
‘Yes, look, about today,’ he said, ‘I’m genuinely, truly sorry about it. It will never happen again. See, the old boss, Gary, the guy before you? Well, he just let things like that slide. He was a bit of a near-enough-is-good-enough guy.’
‘Well, I’m not like that,’ she bit out. ‘I follow the rules. I have to because it’s my job to keep everyone safe and productive. I don’t get to pick and choose the rules we follow and neither do you.’
Vince’s smile made his cheeks widen and dimple. ‘Reading you loud and clear,’ he said. ‘I promise that today’s cigarette was the last I’ll have on the premises.’
‘It should be the last you have, ever,’ she quipped. ‘Those things are like nails in your coffin.’
‘So they say,’ he said, his smile widening again. ‘Listen, there are a few people I want to say hello to, but let me come back and I’ll buy you a drink.’
‘Fine,’ she agreed, although she wished he’d take her with him so she could meet some people. Mason Valley was her new home, but so far, she’d only spoken to three different people at any length, and one of them was a six-year-old.
Vince wandered off and Dee was left alone once again. She took another sip of her drink and leaned her elbows against the bar. She wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or being alone in such a public and social place, but quite suddenly, the feelings she’d been guarding her mind and heart against all week landed like a dropped bomb.
She’d left a job she’d loved, a job in the nicest boutique hotel in one of the most beautiful towns in the state to come here to bum-arse nowhere to run a dysfunctional paper plant.
No one, apart from Vince and maybe Annie, wanted her here. The town, the supermarket, the streets, this old washed-out, beer-stained pub—it all felt alien to her. She didn’t belong, and what was worse, she didn’t think she wanted to. Part of her, a large part, wanted to cut and run, to tell the Olsens thanks, but no thanks. To run back to the safety of her little cottage in Blaxland Falls and start looking for a position somewhere new. Her best friend Jo had taken her old job, so maybe Jo would give her some duty manager shifts while she got back on her feet and found something else. Maybe there was a more suitable opportunity somewhere else within the Olsen Corporation.
Dee was deep in thought, the alcohol-enhanced plan solidifying in her mind, when a man sidled up alongside her.
‘Hi there,’ he said.
Dee caught a waft of beer breath as she took in the sight of the large, handsome, ginger-haired man. She recognised him instantly. He worked at the factory.
‘Hi,’ she said.
‘I’m Dean,’ he told her. ‘I work in your factory.’
‘I know. I recognise you.’
‘You do?’ he smiled, his eyebrows lifting.
Dee felt a little flutter in her chest, the way it always did when a good-looking guy smiled at her. It was a response as involuntary as breathing.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Although, I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced. Dean, I’m Dee.’
She held out her hand and Dean gave it a hearty shake. His hands were big and strong, his skin hard and calloused.
‘You’re my boss.’
‘I am,’ she confirmed. ‘But you don’t have to think of me as your boss here. At the pub, I can be just another booze-guzzling patron.’
Dean laughed. It was a nice laugh, deep and resonating, and its effect was a salve. She needed human connection. She was craving it.
‘So,’ he said, resting his beer on the bar beside her drink. ‘How do you like it so far?’
‘The job or the town?’ she asked, although she wasn’t sure the answer would vary all that much.
He smiled again and her heart grew light.
‘Start with the town,’ he said.
‘Well, it’s really, really different to where I’m from. I mean, my hometown, Blaxland Falls, it’s on the small side too, but it’s …’
‘Not a dump,’ he finished for her.
Her expression must’ve given away her sense of surprise because he laughed.
‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘Most of us locals know what we’re living in here. Mason isn’t that pretty. At least, not the town itself. We don’t have a whole lot going for us, we know that. Nothing like those fancy falls of yours to bring tourists into town. But you know, there are some really nice places just outside of town if you know where to look. Maybe I can show you sometime.’
Dee’s heart lifted at the prospect, and although she was fully aware that she was like a puppy who’d been starved of attention, upon receiving it, she lapped it up.
‘That might be nice,’ she said, knowing that going on a date with one of the workers was not in the realm of appropriateness. In fact, she’d fought hard against it with Vince, but at this point in her life—and her scotch glass—she really didn’t care.
Dean inched closer to her, his warmth filling the space around her.
‘You know’—he said the words close to her ear like he was sharing a secret, his voice gravelly and low—‘you are really, really fucking pretty.’
‘Thanks,’ she said, feeling her skin heat up. She was flattered, but something about the way he said the words was jarring to her senses.
‘You know what I think about when I look at you?’ he whispered, this time much closer to her ear. His yeasty breath warmed her cheek and the side of her neck. ‘I think about sliding into you.’
Dee jerked away, feeling like she’d been slapped.
She narrowed her eyes at Dean, but when he took in her expression, he laughed. He moved closer and she held up a hand, attempting to keep him at bay, but it wasn’t enough. Dean wrapped his hand around her waist and pulled her against him. His breath was all over her then.
‘I want to fuck you with this,’ he said, gripping her so tight his erection pushed against her waist.
Bile churned in her gut, then rose to her throat. Laughter bloomed from the crowd around her, and Dean laughed along with them. Dee pulled against his grip, trying to escape. Panic set in her. Dean was in no hurry to let her go.
She wanted to leave—this pub, this town, this job. She wanted to be anywhere but in Mason Valley. She couldn’t trust anyone here, no one cared about her, and now she was in this horrifying position with this jerk she’d have to front up to on Monday morning. It was that thought that drove her to action.
‘Let me go, Dean, or I’ll fire your arse.’ She said the words through clenched teeth.
Catcalls and whistles whizzed in the air around her, but the noise seemed to be coming to her through a filter, muted and pale. Dean’s grip held, strong and vice-like, and she felt her anger spike. She’d be sure to fire the prick now, regardless of whether he let her go or not. Dean was toast.
A seed of doubt entered her mind—there was a chance she might not be able to follow through on the threat, but she knew that come Monday, she’d be giving it a red-hot try. Through her thoughts, the fuzz of noise and the sensation of her heart beating hard and fast, she heard a voice—male, deep and somewhat familiar.
Her heart fr
oze.
‘Let her go, Dean, or I’ll take you apart. One piece at a time.’
11
Dean didn’t relinquish his grip on her, but he did loosen it enough for her to turn her head, to investigate the origin of that voice.
Behind her, Travis stood leaning against the bar. He held his mouth in a thin, unmoving line, and if she hadn’t been so sure it had been him who’d spoken the words, Dee might have thought he didn’t care one way or the other how Dean treated her. His expression was carefree and casual as he raised his resting beer from the bar and took a steady sip.
Dean’s grip around her remained, and Dee felt repulsed by the feel and strength of his arm. Her blood was at boiling point. She felt the throbbing, intense heat burning around her neck, throat and shoulders, and it was her anger—her supreme, driving anger—that caused her to act. She raised her foot, suddenly aware of her own power again, and her intent was steely and clear as she brought down her heavy, pointed heel on the middle of Dean’s foot.
He baulked, the sound sharp in her ear, but he released her and let out a quick, ‘Fuck!’
Surprisingly, Dee found herself looking to Travis rather than Dean. His expression was unchanged but for the weak beginnings of a smirk. When she looked back at Dean, he was grimacing at her, as though the anger she’d felt only moments before had transferred to him.
‘Don’t look too bloody hard done by, mate,’ she quipped. ‘You just assaulted me. I should call the police.’
Dean’s expression shifted then, and the mood in the room changed. The chuckling and laughter paused, and the people in the crowd, who’d almost been implicit in Dean’s actions, became onlookers intent on finding out what would happen next.
Travis stepped in then. He left his beer resting on the bar and walked closer to Dean. ‘If she goes to Harry, you’ve got no one to blame but yourself, mate. Don’t pull that rubbish again. Not with her.’ He looked pointedly at Dee and her breath lodged in her throat. ‘Not with anyone. Do not mess with women that way. I don’t care how many beers you’ve had.’
Dean looked at Dee and Travis in turn and gave a heavy sniff—an act, Dee thought, meant to buy him time to think.
Dee considered her next move. She could go to the police, after all, she had enough witnesses, but she wasn’t sure it would do much. Dean would most likely receive little more than a slap over the wrist and she’d be left as the town pariah forever—if indeed she wasn’t already. No. She wanted to use this situation to her advantage.
‘Your productivity this month better be out of this world, and in all the months to come. You’d better make me want to declare you Employee of fucking the Month. And if I see or hear of you foisting yourself on another woman, I’ll be looking into dismissal procedures. I don’t want someone who abuses women on my staff. I have females under my employ who I need to protect. Do you understand?’
Dean nodded a quick confirmation. Behind her, Travis let out a sound that might’ve been a chuckle.
‘Now go home. I’ll see you first thing Monday morning,’ Dee snapped out.
Dean took a breath. Clearly, he did not love receiving a dressing-down in full view of half the town, but he must’ve thought better than to provoke Dee further because he backed away slowly and moved towards the other end of the bar. The guy was obviously a Neanderthal, but he was at least wise enough to know when he’d been beaten.
Travis had taken up his beer again and still showed some signs of amusement—a turned up mouth and shining eyes. Perhaps if Dee wasn’t still feeling repulsed by her encounter with Dean, she might have had sense enough to find Travis sexy. She almost laughed at herself. Who was she kidding? One look at Travis’s almost smile and her body was humming, all thoughts of Dean utterly erased.
Dee took up her drink and held it aloft in a toast to Travis. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
He laughed. ‘Thank me for what? I just stood here and watched you sort it all out yourself. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that guy look so scared.’
Dee smoothed her hands along the sides of her shirt and moved a step closer to Travis. ‘I was the one who was scared, for a moment at least. It was pretty humiliating being in that position, here’—she circled her arms in the air between them—‘in front of all these people. I was panicked.’
Travis took a sip and considered. ‘I was a little worried for you too. That’s why I came over.’
Worried. For her. The thought of Travis standing on the other side of the pub and feeling something for her, for her situation, made her legs feel watery-weak. She liked the idea of him caring about her. Up until that moment, she hadn’t thought he felt anything for her other than indifference at best, contempt at worst. The idea that he worried about her was something she’d yet to imagine.
‘But, then,’ he added, another smile brewing among his stubble, ‘I saw that you were—you are—perfectly capable of handling yourself.’
‘I am,’ she said, and it was the truth. Years spent being single and building a career had made her battle-hardened and self-reliant. Dee was a woman who could handle herself, a skill born from necessity rather than desire.
The blue of Travis’s eyes deepened. She noticed the ragged shape of his eyebrows, and the strange desire to reach out and touch them made her suck in a breath.
‘You don’t need protection.’
She couldn’t tell if he was making a statement or asking a question. It didn’t matter.
‘No,’ she said. ‘I can look after myself.’ She felt pride in her answer, but the pride was soon replaced with a resonating sadness.
‘Actually,’ she said, ‘I guess there are men like Dean, and others, who I might not be able to protect myself from. It’s a sad truth for all females.’
Travis raised those ragged brows. ‘You’re right. I lose sleep thinking that there may come a day when I won’t be there to protect Annie. The world is a dangerous place sometimes.’
Dee felt a deeply rooted need to be honest with Travis. Maybe he needed, or wanted, to hear that Annie would be fine no matter what, but there was no guarantee of that. People, women in particular, were never born with a guarantee.
‘You just have to teach her to be careful and smart. To keep her wits about her,’ Dee said. ‘That’s all you can do.’
‘Well, your parents obviously taught you well,’ he said.
He looked her up and down then, but it wasn’t that same creepy look she’d received from so many other men over the years. Rather than appraising her body, he seemed to be analysing what lay beneath, the true essence of who she was. She liked that.
And she liked it even more when he said, ‘You’re a strong woman.’
‘I guess I am,’ she replied. ‘But I don’t know how much my parents had to do with it. They only ever wanted to make sure I had an impressive career, a future they always called it. I guess I saw it for what it was. My parents were a big deal when they lived back in my home town, so I always felt it was imperative that I lived up to their lofty expectations.’
‘Yuck.’ Travis winced.
‘Uh-huh. Then when they moved to Melbourne, they wanted to tell their new friends impressive stories about me. Success always felt less like an option and more like a fait accompli.’ She sipped the last of her drink. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I wanted this. I wanted to be a career woman, but …’
‘But, you don’t know if you only wanted it because they wanted it for you,’ Travis finished for her.
‘Exactly! It was ingrained in me from such a young age that I don’t really know if it was a genuine desire. I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.’
He gave her a sidelong glance and smiled.
God, his teeth were good. And with the stubble and that hidden dimple on the right side of his face—the one she’d only just noticed—it all made for an amazing smile.
‘You want another drink?’ he asked, pointing to her near-empty glass. ‘Let me get you one. What is that? Scotch?’
‘Johnnie Black and dry,
’ she said.
He raised his brows again and looked impressed. ‘That is a serious drink, Ms Lovelace.’
‘Yep, I needed a serious drink. It’s been a serious week.’
The way Travis looked at her when he nodded gave her cause to believe he was only now accepting that the week might have been difficult for her.
The bartender raised a questioning brow and Travis ordered their drinks.
‘I guess I haven’t been as friendly as I could’ve been,’ he confessed.
She lifted her chin. ‘Yeah, you could’ve been friendlier. But I guess you were wary when I came in heavy that first day. I don’t usually act like that. I mean, I’m not that sort of boss. I’m not proud of the way I acted, but I think I was just in shock about the tank tops and wanted to make my presence known. It was a shot across the bow, at least, that’s what I think I was trying to achieve. I don’t really know. It was one of those situations where you act before you think.’
‘You did come across a bit “alpha dog”, but you haven’t acted like that since, so we all know throwing your weight around is not your MO. I think the workers are steadily building a healthy respect for you.’
Travis’s words lifted a weight that’d been resting heavily on her shoulders. Dee didn’t realise until now how heavy that burden had been.
‘Really?’ She spoke the word softly, almost whispered it, and she sensed something in his expression soften too.
‘You’ve just made my day. Thank you.’
The surly bartender gave them their drinks. ‘There you go, Trav.’
‘Ta, Dennis,’ Travis replied, handing over the cash.
The first sip from the fresh drink gave Dee a rush of confidence. She’d been wanting to ask someone from the factory floor about what the status quo was with the distribution situation. The fact that she’d been unable to access any information about it made her equal parts frustrated and curious. She needed to know what was happening with transport. Her job depended on it. In truth, lots of people’s jobs depended on it. She felt a sense of trepidation about asking, though. Something about the situation felt wrong and she knew she needed to tread carefully.
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