Nailed Down: The Complete Series

by Bliss, Chelle

  “Sir? Can I get you and Miss Nicola something to drink?” my assistant asked.

  “No,” I told Nadine. “Just hold my calls.” I straightened my tie before walking through the doorway and closing the door behind me. I’d hoped Sammy would relax when she saw me. I’d hoped she’d at least lose her glasses and return my smile when I greeted her, but she’d spent a long time hating me. Didn’t much matter what I’d hoped for.

  “Sammy,” I said, deciding not to offer her my hand. Stubborn woman wouldn’t take it, that much I knew. I sat, grateful she couldn’t see how I couldn’t keep my foot from bouncing under my desk as she sat across from me, slowly slipping her glasses off her nose and into her bag without moving her gaze from my face.

  The woman was stone-cold, and that shit had me forgetting who I was.

  She kept her mouth tight, unsmiling, arms still folded like she’d caught a chill standing in my office waiting for me. I noticed how her hair had started to stick to her temples. It was hot for June, and she hadn’t been in the building that long. “Can I get you…” Sammy shook her head once, and I didn’t bother finishing my offer. “Fine,” I said, folding my fingers together. “What can I do for you?”

  Finally, she rested against the chair, moving her hands on the arms of the chair before she gripped them, her nails turning like claws into the fabric. “There was an accident today at the center.”

  I sat up, ignoring the dip of tension I felt move between my eyebrows. “Was anyone hurt?”

  “Everyone is fine, but some of the ductwork fell onto the main activity room floor where the children were rehearsing. They’re performing for Bishop Wilkens next week at St. Anthony’s. I sent the children home, and my uncle says we can use the basilica for the next week. But that’s only temporary.” Sammy’s nails dug deeper into the chair, and I exhaled.

  This wasn’t easy for her, I knew that. I couldn’t be an asshole here. I wanted to help her. It was the least I could do, and I did myself no favors by making her ask me for what I already knew she wanted.

  “Sammy, I’ve already got a crew on standby. I wanted to give you some time to adjust to the news of my ownership before any work was done. But I don’t want anyone in danger, especially not your kids.”

  She looked away from me, and I didn’t know what to make of the expression she hurried to push off her face. Whatever it was, Sammy recovered, nodding for me to continue.

  “If you can’t use your uncle’s church for the next few months, is there another place available for the programs?”

  “No,” she said, her frown returning. “We’d have to organize the work one project at a time.”

  “Hmm.” I leaned back in my chair, not liking the idea of such slow progress. “It would make more sense to knock it all out at once.”

  “Not an option,” she said, folding her arms again.

  There was a tone in her voice that reminded me of the girl I used to know. Not the woman who rattled me outside of the restaurant or the pissed-off lady at my father’s funeral a few days ago. Some hint in her tone brought back the memory of the Sammy I knew before things got out of hand. Before I let everything go too far.

  “You don’t know a lot about compromise, do you?” I asked.

  She arched an eyebrow, the small expression a challenge. “There’s no need for me to compromise. This isn’t a negotiation.”

  “It’s not?”

  “No,” she said, relaxing again, like she had inside information I didn’t and the idea of that made her happy. “It’s definitely not.”

  “I don’t think you appreciate…”

  “No, Mr. Carelli,” she started, putting out a hand to shut me up.

  Huh.

  Nobody did that shit. Not ever.

  Once, Ricky Marconi interrupted me in a meeting, and I glared at him for doing it. That asshole spent the next six weeks in Newark at the docks loading trucks because he pissed me off and then three more months at my little cousin Smoke’s factory outside of White Plains. Then he cleaned the toilets of a strip club just to learn his lesson. No one interrupted me. Ever. So why the hell was I giving Sammy a pass?

  “What you don’t appreciate,” she continued, ignoring the way I sat there staring at her, unable to keep my mouth from hanging open, “is that you are legally obligated, as owner, to maintain the structural integrity of the building.” She grabbed her bag, thumbing through an envelope inside before she extracted a thick bundle of papers and handed it over to me. “The terms of my lease are clear. This is a copy in case you don’t have access to Mike’s records since he’s out of town.”

  I glanced at her, looking over the sheaf of papers, trying to keep my expression neutral, but Sammy could read me. That much hadn’t changed in the past decade. No one could call me on my bullshit better than her. When I looked away from her, not giving away the fact that I had no clue who she was talking about, Sammy let a quick twitch move the side of her mouth.

  “Thought so,” she said, crossing her leg.

  “What?”

  “What was your plan?” Her tone was light, but there was an edge to it that could cut steel. Sammy may be beautiful, she may have a sweet, gentle way about her, something that came through her eyes when she smiled, but it was all bullshit.

  If you were her enemy, if she hated you, you’d never know it. Not until she had you by the balls and was already closing her fist around you.

  “You thought you’d interrupt my life, take over my lease, buy out the building, and what? Get on my good side by fixing it up? Throw some paint on the walls, maybe hang a few pictures?” When I dropped the rental agreement on the desk and leaned against my armrest, ready to explain myself, Sammy shook her head, already stopping whatever excuse I had before I could offer it up. “The center, those kids? You don’t mess with them. You don’t get to mess with my life like that, Johnny Carelli. That place is the only good some of those kids have. So, if you’re going to jump in with a plan to mess with that, I’m here to let you know, I’ll make you miserable.”

  “That’s not what I want,” I tried, shaking the agreement in my hand when she tried to argue. “I know what this means to you.”

  “You have no idea what anything means to me.”

  The air cooled at her words. Just like that, with the statement Sammy seemed convinced of, she made it clear we’d fallen off topic. She thought I didn’t know her. She thought I had no idea who she was or what made her happy anymore.

  Maybe she was right. Maybe I would never make amends for hurting her, for destroying the innocent girl she’d been. But I promised myself right then, I’d do everything I could to never stop trying.

  She seemed to realize how much she’d admitted the second her voice lifted, and a small glimpse of anger showed with her words. But Sammy, being the cool, calm woman she was, recovered, shifting in her seat, chin moving up before she looked me squarely in the eyes with an expression that begged me to challenge her.

  I chose not to gamble.

  I chose, in that moment, to play the peacemaker.

  My movements slow, I leaned forward on my elbows, folding my fingers together before I looked up at her and released a long exhale. “Till I’m an old man, Samantha, I’ll apologize to you. Every day, with every breath, so you know I mean it.”

  There was a small shift in her features, moving the quick surprise off her face the second it had appeared, and then Sammy recovered, shaking her head. “I don’t need your apologies.” She cleared her throat, looking to the window as she spoke. “I need you to know that Mike is the super, and he’s on a cruise. I need you to know that the ductwork fell, and we need it repaired. The furnace doesn’t work either, and only the bathrooms on the second floor function properly.” She turned to look at me, narrowing her eyes with a pause, then nodded to the pen next to my hand, giving me a silent command that had the right side of my mouth quirking.

  I followed her order but hid the grin before she could spot it. I’d let her bark orders at me. At least s
he was talking to me.

  Once I’d started writing the list of repairs she’d mentioned, Sammy continued. “The bathroom situation is a problem, considering our classes are on the fourth floor. We have a kitchen, but only one working burner, which makes it hard to provide hot meals for the kids who probably don’t get much to eat at home anyway.” She glanced at my list, then to my face to frown at me before she continued. “The tile on the floor of the activity room is broken or breaking, and I’m pretty sure the entire place is coated in lead paint. It needs a lot of work, and that takes a lot of money. That’s not something I have on hand, and donations and fund raisers don’t happen a lot during the summer because most people disappear from the city when their kids are out of school.”

  I nodded, finishing the list before I set the pen down. I looked back up at that beautiful face, making sure I didn’t smile and didn’t give her any expression other than something that passed for acceptance. I’d give her what she wanted, then I’d ask for what I needed. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “You’ll… I don’t…” She shook her head, then inhaled again. “You can’t just…” Sammy turned her head and watched me as though she wasn’t sure if I was trying to play her. I wasn’t, but she was cunning. She was smart, and from what Cara had told me, Sammy wasn’t easily swayed by anyone. “That will take a lot of…”

  “You need it taken care of?”

  She nodded, her frown not disappearing.

  I waved off her nod. “I’m the building owner, like you said. I’ll handle it.”

  Sammy waited a full minute, watching me and sizing me up. Her attention was sharp as she stared at me before she finally spoke. “And you’ll help me find a temporary rehearsal spot?”

  I thought about it, wondering if Cara still owned the building downtown for storage or if our cousin Antonia still needed renters for the shop a few blocks from Sammy’s center. “Yeah, I think I can find something. I’ll make some calls.”

  “And…” she started, that curious, doubtful expression not fracturing an inch, “you’ll make sure my uncle doesn’t find out you’re helping?”

  That one had me pausing. I grinned, earning a glare from Sammy I guessed she’d had waiting. “How long can the man go on hating me?”

  She sat up straighter, and some of that calm control slipped from her. “He’s always going to hate you.”

  I relaxed against my chair, laughing at her somber expression. “He’s a priest.”

  “He’s not perfect.”

  Father Patrick hating me was something I’d gotten used to years ago. I’d paid the man. I’d donated and handed over hush money to him and his church whenever they asked. Then I stopped when I realized the old bastard was counting on perpetual Catholic guilt to bleed me dry forever. That shit ended when I realized I’d never be forgiven for my sins. Not by him.

  But I didn’t care what the old man thought of me. I didn’t care if he knew I was the one helping Sammy with her center and her charity. Besides, this might help me with a few problems I needed resolved and get me closer to her at the same time.

  Her gaze was sharp and followed my movements as I rubbed my chin, considering her request. I cocked my head, pretending to really give the whole clusterfuck my full attention before I made a decision. “Fine, then,” I started, straightening in my chair and adjusting my jacket and tie, ready to negotiate even if Sammy wasn’t. “The renovations and any financial assistance you need are a given. I’ve obligated myself to this charity, and I want to help.”

  “Out of the goodness of your black heart?”

  “Because I owe you.” I meant that shit, even if she didn’t believe me. I made sure there wasn’t even a hint of a grin or the smallest smirk on my face so she knew that. “It’s for you and only you.”

  “Damn it, Johnny. You’ve got a condition.” Sammy flopped back against her chair, shoulders slumping for the first time. She cringed when I didn’t hold back the wide, toothy smile I gave her. She shook her head, muttering under her breath. “I knew it.”

  “This promise of keeping your uncle from knowing…”

  “Johnny…”

  “I can agree to that, but I need something from you.” Her hair was pulled back, but it moved against her shoulder when she jerked her gaze up at me, a sharp, angry glare shooting in my direction that had me laughing already. She had the same pissed-off death glare now that she’d had at seventeen. Her mind was in the gutter, that much I could tell. Sammy thought I was only concerned with one thing because I pretty much had been as a kid. She swore I didn’t know what she wanted, but by the way she sat up straight, tugging up her shirt to cover her cleavage, I guessed she probably thought what I wanted from her was something I could get from any woman.

  “Ah, bella, not that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind a thousand times, but no, I do have some dignity. I’m not going to blackmail you into sleeping with me.”

  Sammy moved her shoulders, releasing a half chuckle that told me she didn’t believe me for a second.

  I didn’t bother trying to convince her, though I did make her a promise I had every intention of keeping. “Sammy, the next time I see you naked, it will because you want it, because you can’t keep from touching me. And trust me, I won’t have to do any convincing or conniving to get you undressed.”

  Finally, Sammy laughed, the sound loud and from her belly. It was the first time in the half hour she’d been in my office that I believed she finally relaxed. She looked beautiful, more beautiful than I’d seen any woman look in a long damn time. Sammy laughed over my promise like I was out of my head. “You’re an arrogant bastard, Johnny Carelli.”

  “Absolutely.”

  After several minutes, Sammy’s laughter died, and she settled back against her chair. “Go on, then. Tell me what you want from me.”

  One slow look over her face, down her body, which she ignored, and then I finally spoke. “There is an account I am trying to secure—” I stopped whatever sarcastic comment Sammy seemed ready to make when she opened her mouth with a shake of my head “—for my private business not affiliated with my father’s companies.” Knowing Sammy, she probably didn’t believe any of my businesses were legitimate. My father was into private gambling, finding goods when they fell off trucks, and cleaning money. He’d never messed with drugs or prostitution but had owned several strip clubs and wasn’t always purely honest with his taxes. I made sure those businesses stayed up and running, but I also ran several IT and security companies, one of which I was trying to get off the ground. Which was why I needed Sammy.

  “I have several dinner meetings arranged with a potential investor. They’re friendly, family-style meals. He has a wife and children. I do not, and that’s a sticking point. I don’t have time to track down a girlfriend or find someone…”

  “You mean,” she started, crossing her leg to turn her chair. She looked a little too smug, and the half grin on her face irritated me more than it should have. Also made me a little hard. “You have to pretend to be a respectable man for this legitimate businessman, and the escorts you normally use aren’t appropriate to act as your girlfriend?”

  I considered her a moment, thinking she’d played me. The woman was good at negotiation. That teasing little smirk would have any man handing over his checkbook in a heartbeat. Biting the inside of my lip, I kept my cool, head moving in a slow nod. “I want to make an impression.”

  “And I’ll help with that?”

  “Samantha, you’re intelligent, funny, charming, and the single most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. You are the impression.” I caught her gaze, took a second to watch her, see if her green eyes were still light or if the years had darkened them.

  She looked back at me, and I could have sworn she wasn’t breathing.

  There was no smirk on her face. No frown that told me she was pissed I’d tried buttering her up. Just then, between the low, soft sound of the vents kicking on and the muted ring of Nadine’s phone from outside my closed
door, there was only Sammy and me, watching each other with the shadow of what happened between us thickening the air around us. I could almost taste her. I could almost remember how warm her skin had been.

  Then, just like that, the moment ended. Sammy blinked, breaking the silence with a laugh that sounded forced. “You know, for a second there, I almost believed you.”

  “It wasn’t a line.” I picked up the pen, gripping it between my index finger and thumb to give me something to hold on to.

  Sammy turned toward the window, answering me with her attention on the early afternoon skyline to our left. “If you say so.”

  Her profile was perfect, everything about her flawless, still like some starlet from the fifties frozen in time, a woman no other woman around her could hope to measure up to. Funny thing was, Sammy had no clue just how beautiful, how intimidating she was.

  “Fine,” she said finally, still not looking at me. “Have the crews start next week after you find us a suitable place to hold summer classes and rehearsals until the building’s ready.” She slipped a business card from her purse and put it on my desk. She stood from her chair with her bag clutched in front of her, as though that would keep me from getting too close when I circled my desk and stood in front of her. “If you keep your word and my uncle doesn’t find out, I’ll go with you to your dinners. Text me with the dates and times. But don’t get any ideas.”

  I stood quickly, and the movement made Sammy flinch, as if she expected me to touch her face. “All I have left are ideas about you, Sammy.”

  She turned, hurrying to the door, but I took hold of the doorknob before she could grab it. She stood in front of it, waiting for me to let her out, then glanced up at me when I didn’t.

  “They’re really good ideas too.” When I leaned forward, taking her wrist with my free hand, Sammy didn’t object. “You might like the ideas I have.”