Heels of Steel

by Barbara Kavovit

  He raised his eyebrows. “You’re getting a little personal, Leela.”

  She didn’t flinch. “Because I have to.”

  “A lot of people would say you’re going over the line.”

  “Fine! Fire me, then! Maybe it will wake you up!”

  He shook his head. “Of course I won’t fire you. I know you mean well.”

  She glared at him. Her eyes were practically shooting sparks. “You know I mean well, and you also know that I’m right. Because I am right.”

  He looked at her for a long moment and then dropped his gaze. “Fine. What do you want me to do?”

  She exhaled and collapsed back onto the couch in a boneless heap. “I just want you to get this job. Build this skyscraper. Get back in the game. Don’t make me do all the work. Let me stick to the numbers like you hired me to do, and you do all the rest, okay? Take your business back. I am good, and we have been very lucky, but I can’t keep worrying about whether or not you’ll show up.”

  He nodded.

  “And Jay?”

  “Yes, Leela?”

  “Please try to get excited about this skyscraper. I think it will help a lot if you’re excited.”

  He nodded again. “I will try.” He took a deep breath. “Thank you, Leela.”

  Chapter 15

  “Do you think she’ll want to keep the swing?” asked Ava as she handed Bridget her latte.

  The two of them were taking a coffee break up the block from Scarlett’s penthouse. There were more than a few delicate matters to discuss away from the prying ears of the workers, and even Scarlett herself.

  Bridget sipped her coffee. “Of course she’ll keep the swing. In fact, she told me that she wants it reinforced so that it can hold up to five hundred pounds. We might need to put in a steel beam.”

  Ava’s eyes widened with surprise. “What? Five hundred? That’s like five and a half of Scarlett’s girlfriends! The woman is coming up on sixty. How can this be good for her health?”

  Bridget laughed. “We should all be so healthy. But listen, can we come back to Scarlett in a minute? I actually want to talk about the Harrington job.”

  Ava’s pretty mouth twisted into a frown.

  “What?” said Bridget. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Ava took a drink of her tea and then primly patted her lips with a napkin. “I just haven’t heard nice things about Mark Harrington.”

  Bridget shook her head. “Who the heck cares about nice? Nobody’s nice in this business. I’m not nice. I don’t think you’re really understanding how big this is, Ava. This isn’t some kitchen renovation. It’s ground up, new construction. Mark Harrington is talking about building a skyscraper. A skyscraper! This is exactly what I need to get back in and get back in with a splash. It’s fate.”

  Ava shook her head. “I don’t understand why he even contacted you. This is way over your head. No one in their right mind would ever hire you to build a skyscraper at this point in your career! And everyone knows you’re working for the Ludleys now.”

  “Maybe he just heard I can build. Maybe he’s impressed with my history and the projects my company built.”

  Ava laughed. “Confidence much, girl? But even if you get the opportunity, I don’t understand how you think you’re actually going to build it. You don’t have a business. You don’t have an infrastructure. You don’t have the money or the staff or the office.”

  “I can pull everything back together. I can rebuild.”

  “And what about your relationship with the union?”

  Bridget frowned. “You know that was bull. Ten guys out of the hundreds I employed. It was a setup.”

  “Wasn’t it Danny who hired those nonunion workers? You going to bring him back in?”

  Bridget sighed. “I wish I could. It won’t feel right working without him. He’s been there from the very beginning of everything. He was always someone I could count on.”

  Ava laughed. “Until he wasn’t.”

  Bridget shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. He hasn’t talked to me since it happened. I lost my temper with him. Said some things I wish I could take back. I’ve tried to apologize, but he won’t see me.”

  She cringed, remembering the way she had laid into him on that awful day with the rat. He and the guys he had hired were the only men on the job when she had finally arrived. Scarlett had already come and gone and all the union workers had seen Scabby and turned right around and gone home. Bridget, still reeling from her fight with Kevin that morning, the disappointment of losing yet another project and the absolute dread of what was going to happen next, had come after Danny with her claws out. Asking him how he could be so stupid to hire guys without union cards, yelling at him that if the business went belly-up, it was his fault. She’d been completely out of control.

  And he’d just stood there and taken it. He’d stood there while she yelled and screamed, his face going paler and paler, his lips getting tighter and tighter, and then, when she’d shouted herself out, when she was just standing there, trying to catch her breath, trying not to sob, he picked up his tools and walked out.

  As Bridget watched him disappear through the door, she felt a great tearing in her chest, a sharp, burning pain, something she hadn’t felt since the day the hospital called to say her father was gone. Ava’s eyes widened. “Seriously? He won’t talk to you?”

  “Yeah. I tried. But listen, even if I have to do it without him, I’ll figure it out. This is not something I’m going to let slip through my fingers. I can’t keep working for the Ludleys forever.”

  Ava sighed. “Look, I get it. I just want you to be careful. You need to walk again before you run. What about something smaller? Something in retail? It was hard enough for you to get hired with the Ludleys after everything happened. What if they hear you’re taking meetings behind their back? If this goes bad...”

  Bridget leaned forward and put her hand on Ava’s arm. “Enough. I know what I’m doing.”

  Ava sighed. “Okay. I hear you. Just...take it slow, okay? Don’t get in over your head.”

  Bridget stood up. “Ava, I’ve been in the deep end of the pool since I was nine years old. Come on, we better get back to Scarlett. Her pleasure palace needs a new dildo closet.”

  Chapter 16

  All that afternoon Jason tried to ignore the banging sounds above his head. It wasn’t like he was doing much. It was supposed to be his day with Alli, so he’d cleared his schedule and stocked up the fridge, determined to start his new plan to make red sauce together after she got home from school. But Alli had texted at the last second, asking if she could stay at her friend’s house for the night so they could work on a history project together.

  Daddy-daughter dinner at Shake Shack on Saturday instead? he texted as an afterthought, feeling like he hadn’t seen his kid for ages.

  Dad. Don’t call yourself daddy. That’s gross.

  He stared at the text.

  Should he take that as a yes?

  Bang!

  His coffee cup rattled against the saucer.

  Bang! Bang!

  This time the table shook, too.

  He groaned. He knew where the noise was coming from. Scarlett Hawkins had bought the entire floor above his apartment two years ago and she was perpetually renovating. She had twice sent down gift baskets full of homemade baked goods after particularly loud days—which was canny on her part. A warm chocolate walnut scone went a long way with Jason. But today was getting to him like it never had before. He wasn’t sure if it was the noise that was bothering him more or the fact that she was using a construction firm that wasn’t Russo to make that noise. After all, Russo Construction had swooped in to rescue her and finish her building after that debacle with Steele Construction. It’s not like they didn’t have a history.

  Bang Bang Bang!

&
nbsp; A cloud of plaster drifted down from his ceiling. White flecks floated in his coffee. Okay, that was enough. If she was going to fail to protect his space, he wasn’t going to stay quiet about it.

  Scarlett had a private elevator so the only way up to her place was the stairs, which he took two at a time. Inside her hallway, the banging continued, even louder, and he could hear the whine of a Sawzall. He knocked on her door and waited.

  “Peters, I told you, just let yourself in. I don’t have the time to—Oh. You’re not Peters.”

  A petite, dark-haired woman with huge brown eyes blinked up at him, her nose scrunched in puzzlement. He quickly took in her black jacket and jeans, skintight over an incredible figure. One of Scarlett’s many girlfriends, undoubtedly. Or at least, she was pretty enough to be.

  “Hi, I live downstairs,” he began.

  “Jason?” came a voice from behind the brunette. Ava Martinez, an architect he had worked with on more than a few projects, stepped into view. “What are you doing here?”

  Jay looked at the tall, willowy woman. He liked Ava; he had even contemplated asking her out once or twice before he realized that something about the way she held herself and the slope of her high cheekbones reminded him a little too much of Hana. But to be fair, there wasn’t much that didn’t remind him of Hana these days.

  “Actually, as I was saying, I live downstairs—” he began.

  “Oh, no,” said the petite woman. She had a slight Bronx accent and her voice was husky and full of laughter. “Don’t tell me. A piece of your ceiling just fell down.” She turned back toward Ava. “I told you we’d be hearing from the neighbors today.”

  “Jay’s a contractor, too,” said Ava. “I’m sure he understands. Jason Russo, this is Bridget Steele.”

  Jay stared, fascinated, as he watched Bridget’s face register who he was. She did not look happy.

  He’d heard of her, of course. Everyone knew the story of her spectacular fall from grace. But he’d always imagined she would be...different, somehow. Harder. Taller, at least. This woman was all curves and lips and sultry bedroom eyes. She looked like a pocket-size pinup model.

  “Nice to meet you,” he said and offered her his hand.

  She paused a moment, frowning, before she took his hand. Her grip was firm, as he knew it would it be. No one in this business had a weak handshake. Shaking hands among construction workers was basically a game of who could crush whose hand first. But even though she wasn’t particularly squeezing his fingers, he had to admit that he felt a little unmoored.

  She released her grip. “So did you come up to poach this job, too?”

  He blinked. “Actually, I didn’t even know you were still in the business.”

  She stuck out her chin. “Well. I am. So what do you want?”

  He laughed nervously. “Um, as a matter of fact, you ruined my coffee,” he said. “I mean, my cup is full of plaster and dust from the vibration of the walls from your tools.”

  Bridget didn’t give an inch. “Well, it’s a prewar. Of course you’re going to get plaster dust. What do you want me to do, drywall the whole building?”

  Before he could answer, Ava stepped forward, a sly look on her face. “Bridget, Bridget,” she said in a conciliatory way, “you should buy Jay a new cup of coffee to make up for it. You guys have a lot in common.”

  Bridget cast a quick, stormy look at the architect before turning back toward him and smiling. But the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

  “I’m sure Mr. Russo doesn’t want to talk shop with me,” said Bridget tightly.

  Jason suddenly felt a perverse desire to win over this woman. “I don’t mind,” he said, giving her his sweetest smile, “I’m always happy to talk business. And please, call me Jay.”

  “Bridget works for the Ludley brothers now,” offered Ava. “She’s always looking for a new opportunity. She’s a great salesperson, but an even better builder.”

  Bridget’s eyes narrowed briefly and a spot of pink appeared on each of her cheeks. She looked like she wanted to strangle her friend. “Actually, I’m perfectly fine at the Ludleys’ for now.”

  Jay laughed. This woman was sexy when she was pissed. “You know what?” he said, “I would love to take you up on that cup of coffee, Ms. Steele.”

  Bridget’s smile grew wider, but her eyes were still hard. “I didn’t offer you coffee. Ava did. And besides that, we’re in the middle of work.”

  “Oh, go ahead,” said Ava. Obviously, her friend didn’t intimidate her in the least. “We were just going to call it a day, anyway. And Jay doesn’t want any coffee from me. I remind him of his ex-wife.”

  He jerked his head up, meeting Ava’s smirk.

  “I heard you talking to the project manager on that last job we did on Mercer,” she said. “Great acoustics in that place.”

  “Sorry,” he muttered, embarrassed.

  She shrugged ruefully. “At least you weren’t talking about my butt like the other guy was.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. It was one of the reasons he’d always avoided bringing Alli around his building sites. Deep down, most men were pigs, and in a 98 percent male environment, very few of them bothered hiding it.

  “Seriously, sorry,” he said again. “If it makes you feel any better, my ex-wife is a perfectly nice person.”

  Ava waved her hand. “Believe me, my heart was not broken. And listen, I’m sure that Bridget isn’t anything like your ex-wife. In fact,” she said, grinning, “she was just telling me that she’s not nice at all.”

  “Ava, shut the hell up,” said Bridget. She wasn’t even trying to hide her annoyance anymore.

  Ava looked at her friend. “Just saying. I’d rather work for Jay than the Ludleys.”

  “I’m not looking for a new job,” gritted out Bridget.

  Jason was enjoying this. “Well, we’re always looking for new blood,” he said, arranging his face in what he hoped to be a winning look.

  Bridget rolled her eyes. She knew she was being teased. “Fine,” she said at last. “I do not need a job, but I’m hungry. You can buy me dinner. A nice dinner.”

  Jay raised his eyebrows. “Wait, I thought you were buying me coffee.”

  She met his eyes. “Take it or leave it.”

  “He’ll take it!” said Ava. She looked at him. “I’m doing you a huge favor, Russo.”

  “Well, in that case,” Jay said, hiding his smile, “I know a place. Just down the street.”

  Bridget bit her lip and the sight made a sudden rush of heat flood through Jay’s body.

  Wow, he thought, I can’t remember the last time that happened.

  “All right. I’m up for trying something new,” said Bridget. And she smiled. A genuine smile this time. She was softening up.

  “Good,” said Jay, grinning in response.

  “Good!” piped in Ava.

  Bridget rolled her eyes and looked at Jay. “Come on, let’s go before I end up socking this girl in the nose.”

  Chapter 17

  Bridget couldn’t wait until she could call Ava and ream her out. Her friend was so pushy. Bridget did not need to be set up—not for a job or a date. Especially with some entitled golden boy who had been messing with her business for years.

  “You look pissed,” said Jay in a mild voice. She blinked her eyes and looked at him from across the table. She had been fuming so hard, she had honestly forgotten he was there.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. She took a sip of her wine, trying to calm herself down. “I was just thinking about something else.”

  She looked around. The place was not what she expected. Dim lighting, red velvet booths, candles in old Chianti bottles, corny Italian accordion music wafting through the air.

  “Sexy place,” she said. “Looks like a red-sauce tourist trap.”

  He grinned at her. �
�It is a red-sauce tourist trap. But I know the chef, Omar. He’s from Morocco. His Italian food is crap, but if you order off-menu, chef’s choice, he’s a genius.”

  He pushed forward one of the many little dishes of vegetables that the waiter had laid out on the table. “Try this eggplant. It’s amazing.”

  She broke off a piece of warm flatbread and dipped it into the spread. He was right; it was amazing—smoky and velvety smooth with a nice little bite of heat at the end.

  “It’s great, right? This is just temporary. Omar will get his own place where he can cook his own kind of stuff, and then we can say we knew him when.”

  She laughed and looked at him with more attention. When Bridget dated, which wasn’t often these days, she usually went for rich, powerful, hypermasculine older men, or, God help her, muscle heads likes Kevin, but this guy was different. He was less showy, for one. No big gold Rolex watch, no tailored suit, no wafts of expensive Tom Ford cologne. Lean and built, but not overly developed. He looked a bit rumpled in his T-shirt and Rag & Bone jeans—boyish. Bridget guessed he was close to her age, maybe a little older. The same thick, unruly dark hair, wide shoulders and easy smile she had noticed at the party so long ago. There was something quiet and watchful about his heavy-lidded green eyes that made her feel...seen.

  “Wait. Don’t you have a wife?” she blurted out, remembering the stylish woman in the red cape.

  He raised an eyebrow. “I did. We’ve been divorced for a year now.”

  “Oh,” said Bridget, chastened. “Right. The ex-wife Ava reminds you of. Sorry. Me, too. For a little longer than that.” She took another hasty gulp of wine before changing the subject. “So you’ve been in the business for a long time?”

  He nodded. “Born and raised in it. Russo Construction was started by my great-granddad.”

  She wasn’t surprised. Most of the construction bosses in Manhattan had the same story. Nepotism. Five of the largest companies were at least third generation. The industry was almost impossible to break into if you were an outsider.