Heels of Steel

by Barbara Kavovit

“I have to ask you something,” she said.

  He scowled. “I knew I shouldn’t have left,” he muttered.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Never mind. What do you want to ask?”

  “Have you ever slept with another contractor before?”

  He raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Well, since you’re the first woman contractor I’ve ever met, that would be a no.”

  “But you’ve dated other people in the industry, right? Architects? Assistants? You know how complicated it can be.”

  He shook his head. “I told you I married young. My ex is an artist. What are you getting at?”

  She shrugged. “My ex was my drywall subcontractor. Until he talked me into hiring him as head of sales. At first, he thought it was sexy that I was a CEO. He liked my money and he liked my power. But then things fell apart in a spectacularly horrible way.”

  He stared at her, confused. “Are you worried that I’m going to resent that you work?”

  She shook her head. “No. But I am wondering if you can manage to date someone who is your direct competition.”

  He blinked. “So you’re back in?”

  She nodded, watching his face carefully.

  He smiled. “That’s great. I’m happy for you.”

  She searched his eyes. He honestly seemed happy.

  “But—”

  He raised his hand. “Hey, the budget’s just a tiny part of things. You and I both know that it’s the presentation and the project team that’s going to win or lose it. And there’s an awful lot between now and then.” He moved past her into the kitchen where he began unpacking the groceries. “So may the best construction manager win, right?”

  “Russo—”

  He paused and looked at her. “Oh. I see. I’m Russo again?”

  She shook her head. “No, I mean, Jay—”

  “Listen, this doesn’t have to change anything. I want to build that building. You want to build that building. Only one of us can get it—and hell, maybe neither of us will. I’m sure we’re not the only ones up for it.”

  She shook her head. She didn’t even like to think about the rest of the competition.

  “But Bridget, what happened between us tonight? You and I know both know that was no one-night stand.”

  She nodded slowly.

  “Look. I’m just going to say it. I don’t mean to freak you out, and I won’t speak for you, of course, but for me, that was something special, and I’d hate to see it end before it had a chance to begin.”

  His green eyes met hers and she watched them slowly go dark. She shivered, her body answering his gaze, but then she forced herself to look away. “So is this job.”

  He blinked, confused. “So is this job what?”

  “Something special.”

  She saw the faintest trace of hurt pass over his face, then it cleared. “That’s true. But like I said before, one doesn’t have to change the other.”

  She shook her head. “You’re my direct competition, Jason.”

  “We won’t talk about it. We can leave work at the door when we see each other.”

  “I can’t do that. It’s who I am. I’m ninety-nine percent my work.”

  “So, I’ll take the one percent of you that’s left.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “There was no work in that bedroom tonight, Bridget,” he shot back. “You and I, we were somewhere else. Am I right about that?”

  She shrugged, not wanting to admit to what he was saying, but knowing it was true.

  “And believe me when I tell you—it’s not always like that. In fact, as far as I’m concerned, it’s never been like that.”

  She was quiet for a moment. He waited.

  “For me, either,” she finally admitted.

  “So I’m pretty damned interested in seeing where this could go. Aren’t you?”

  She blew out a long breath. “Maybe,” she said.

  He strode across the kitchen, crushed his mouth to hers. For a moment her eyes flew shut and she was lost again, feeling nothing but his lips, his arms, the hungry, knowing way his hands moved all over her. Her mind was hazed over. Her body was roaring. Her heart was pounding out of her chest.

  He broke the kiss and stepped away, short of breath, glaring at her. “That doesn’t feel like maybe to me.”

  Her hands fell open. She hated how helpless she felt, how out of control.

  But he was right.

  “Fine,” she said.

  He looked at her. “Fine what?”

  “Fine. I’m going for this building, and we can keep seeing each other. And the only rule is, we never talk about work. Other than that—I will do anything and everything to get this job. I will not stand down. I won’t let anyone get in my way. And you need to hear me clearly when I say this, Jason. I will play dirty if necessary. Can you accept that?”

  He smiled. “Fine. I like the sound of playing dirty.”

  “I’m not joking.”

  He looked at her and clenched his jaw. She watched the muscle leap in his cheek. “How hungry are you?” he said softly.

  She walked toward him, held out her hand. “Dinner can wait,” she said.

  Chapter 28

  Hana turned toward Liam when he slipped into bed that night, and whatever bad blood might have lingered from earlier seemed to have passed. She was warm and naked, burrowed under a cloud of silk and down comforter, sandwiched between crisp white sheets, her eyes glowing in the blinking city lights that cast through the windows, her hair tumbled around her shoulders in streams.

  He gathered her to him, fitting her small body against his much larger one, sliding his arm under her neck and then round her shoulders, so he could pull her even closer. She smelled like lime and jasmine, the same scent she’d worn since the day he’d met her. She still mail-ordered it from a woman in India who had mixed it for her since she was a teen living in Chennai. Her hair brushed against his neck and he reached to twine a lock in his hand. He loved how heavy it was, how substantial and alive it felt to him. He gently tugged on it, and she tilted her face up toward his, and he felt the warmth of her breath on his cheek.

  She slid her leg between his, pulling her hips tight against him, making his cock leap as she trailed her hands down over his shoulders and back. She kissed his neck, once and then twice and then again. He rolled over on top of her, wanting to feel every part of her pressed up against him.

  “I’m sorry about today,” she whispered.

  He shook his head. “Why do you keep apologizing? I get it. Honestly.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes wide. “Do you, though?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I just think that maybe I need to explain.”

  He sighed and rolled off her. “And I guess we’re going to have this conversation right now?”

  She wiggled closer and put her head on his shoulder. “Have I ever told you about the year that my family lived in Saudi Arabia?”

  He shook his head helplessly. “No.”

  “We moved there when I was eleven. Up until then, my mother was the perfect ambassador’s wife. She was well educated and witty, beautiful and cultured, kind and stylish. She loved everything about our life. She loved the travel, picking up new languages and cultural traditions, the parties and the dinners and the socializing. She was a jewel on my father’s arm. I heard more than one person say that my father never would have made it as far as he did without my mother by his side.”

  Liam nodded. Hana’s parents were in their midforties when she was born—a miracle baby, they had called her—and had both passed on before he had a chance to meet them.

  “But then we got assigned to Saudi Arabia. It was a challenging job for my dad—things were messy in the Gulf. And there wasn’t room for my mother’s usual role. The l
imits on women were so strict, the separation between the sexes so enforced, that my mom was told she would basically need to stay at home all day with the servants. She couldn’t drive. She was trapped in our compound. That’s what women did there at that time—at least women who didn’t want to stir up any problems.”

  Hana sat up in bed, pulling the sheet up over her chest. “My father was completely wrapped up in his job. He worked crazy hours and was hardly ever home. We never saw him. We were living in the utmost luxury. Our compound was like a palace, but my mother was so depressed. She barely made it out of bed, and when she did, it was like she was sleepwalking. I’d never seen her like that before, and once my father’s time there was over and we moved on to India, I never saw it again. But it was terrifying. Like all the light had just disappeared.”

  Liam nodded, stroking her hair.

  “After that I promised myself I would never be like her. I would never lose sight of my work, never depend on a man like that. I would never allow myself to get sick over how much I loved someone. A woman has to have a purpose, something outside of men, outside of her marriage, so that if something happens, she won’t collapse.”

  He stiffened. “I don’t have any problem with you working, Hana.”

  “I’m not saying you do.”

  He held up his hands, confused. “So what are you saying?”

  “I think,” she whispered, “I think I’m in too deep. I’ve gone too far. I gave you everything I have to offer. And I don’t even know if you—you feel the same way.”

  “What are you talking about? Of course I feel the same way,” he said dismissively.

  He could feel the warm tears on her face slide down onto his neck. “I’m not sure that’s true.”

  He shook her off, angry. “I gave up everything to be with you, Hana. You know that.”

  She laughed—a bitter sound. “Did you?”

  He sat up in bed and violently pushed the covers back. “I’m going to get a drink.”

  “Liam?” She reached for his arm but he shook her off.

  “Don’t.” And he left the room.

  Chapter 29

  Bridget called in sick to work the next day. Then she hopped on the 2 train and headed for the Bronx. Back when Steele Construction still existed, she would have gathered everyone into her oversize conference room, around the gleaming twelve-foot oak table built big enough to seat all of her estimators, her VP of construction, PMs and field supers. Then they would have spent the day reviewing the budget, rehearsing their presentation and figuring out the best approach to building this monstrosity. But now? She only had one person she wanted to talk to: Danny Schwartz.

  She had to go to him. He’d been there through everything and she knew it just wouldn’t feel right unless he was part of this job. He wouldn’t take her calls, didn’t respond to email. It had been so long since she’d even seen his face. She had tried to keep tabs on him through her mother—making sure he was okay—but her mom said he would hardly see her, either. That he wasn’t around the neighborhood like he used to be.

  Bridget knew she was going to have to show up on his doorstep in person if she wanted to hash this out.

  As she stepped out of the subway station into the bright midday sun, Bridget took a moment to orient herself. She could never get over how different things were when she came back to the old neighborhood. Her mother had moved to Florida after Bridget and Dylan had moved back out, so it had been nearly two years since she’d been back in the hood. Everything looked worn out and smaller than her memories. The park was strewn with litter and graffiti and not as green as she remembered; the brick wall that she used to lean against while making out with her first boyfriend had been turned into a car wash with flickering neon lights. Here was the street where she was knocked off her brand-new bike, a gang of neighborhood kids demanding that she give them a dollar or the bike itself. She refused either, standing her ground, tears and snot running down her face, until one of the shopkeepers came out and chased them all off. Sal’s Pizza place, Luigi’s deli, The Tasty Bake, with its handmade cannoli and home to the four bald men who never left the front stoop, wearing sleeveless tees, gray trousers and black belts...all gone. Transformed into bodegas, check-cashing places and nail salons.

  The public pool that used to open every Memorial Day and close on Labor Day was now filled with dirt and covered in pavement. For a minute Bridget stopped and stood there, watching her child-self do laps down the long, murky blue pool.

  This neighborhood had been dangerous and smothering and unpredictable, as sticky and binding as tar, and she’d spent most of her childhood wondering if she’d ever make it out. But, she mused as she turned the corner onto Danny’s block, it had made her. This is where she learned to fight like hell and work until she dropped and to never take shit from anyone. Without the Bronx in her blood, she never would have climbed as high, and she certainly wouldn’t have survived these past few terrible years.

  Danny’s place, what used to be an immaculate Victorian row house that he’d always taken great pride in, looked run-down and shabby. The solid little porch needed a coat of paint; there was a crack in one of the windows. Bridget felt a little shiver of apprehension. The Danny Schwartz she knew would have never let things go like this.

  She knocked.

  No answer.

  She knocked again.

  She stood on the porch, waiting, certain that he was inside—his old yellow Ford pickup was in the driveway—but not sure at all how she would get to him.

  Finally, she remembered something—slid her fingers under a windowsill, and found the little plastic box and the key inside.

  “Danny?” she called as she slowly opened his door. “Danny? It’s me, Bridget. I’m coming in.”

  “Girl, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  He was just standing there in his living room, watching her come through the door. She felt immediate relief when she saw him. He looked tired, maybe a little worn down, definitely pissed off, but it was still Danny Schwartz. Short, shaped like a fireplug, his wispy gray hair waving in the breeze.

  “This is breaking and entering! I could have you arrested!”

  She smiled at him. She couldn’t help it. “Aw, Danny. I missed you so much.”

  He glared at her. “Well, I didn’t miss you at all, ya little jerk. Now get out of my house.”

  She looked around. As usual, his place was clean as a whistle, everything perfectly ordered. She felt something slide off her shoulders. He was doing okay. She hadn’t realized how worried she’d been about him until that moment. She looked at the little man.

  “Danny, listen. I’m sorry. I came here to apologize. I never should have talked to you that way. I was crazy that day, out of control. I hardly knew what I was doing.”

  He glanced away from her, the color rising in his gray stubbled cheeks.

  “I should have come sooner—I should have fixed this—but everything got so bad after that. I found out that Kevin was cheating on me, and we got a divorce, the company went bankrupt, I lost my condo, I was scrambling for work, trying to support Dylan. It was a nightmare.”

  He shook his head, still wouldn’t meet her eyes.

  “But now I need your help, Danny. Something’s come up. Something huge. A skyscraper. And I want to bring back Steele Construction, but I can’t do it without you.”

  He finally looked at her, rapidly blinking. “You’d—you’d want me to come back?” He sounded bewildered. “After what I did?”

  She took a step toward him. “Oh, Danny, of course I do. You’ve been with me from the beginning.”

  His mouth dropped open. “But I—I ruined you. I took down one of your most important projects, ended your whole company. I—I knew Kevin wasn’t coming through for you, and you needed workers fast, and I heard about some guys from the neighborhood who needed work. I figured t
here were so many men on the job, no one was going to notice a few guys without cards. I just wanted to help. And then—” his voice shook “—and then it all fell apart. After all that work you did, after everything you accomplished. Ruined. I thought you’d never want to see me again.”

  She felt all the air leave her lungs, realizing that he hadn’t been angry with her at all—just regretful and ashamed. That he had done the best he could after Kevin had dumped the problem into his lap, and that he believed every cruel and furious word that she’d spit out at him on that day. God, what an asshole she’d been. She swallowed and blinked back her tears. “Come on. Are you kidding? How could I do this without you? You didn’t take down my company. Of course not. I made huge mistakes. Kevin screwed us both. I know you were just trying to help.”

  A tear ran down his face. His jowls trembled. He held out his arms. “Come here, kid. Gimme a hug before I make an even bigger fool of myself.”

  She stepped into his surprisingly strong embrace, a giant grin on her face, letting the tears flow. For a moment she leaned into him, just enjoying the feeling of fatherly arms around her once more.

  Then he stepped back, wiping his eyes on his shirtsleeves. “Now. Tell me about this skyscraper.”

  * * *

  Two hours later Danny, Ethan and Mrs. Hashemi were all huddled around Danny’s kitchen table.

  Ethan flashed an electric smile at Bridget. She could see that her tall, handsome friend was excited and ready to get to work. He had shown up without a question, telling the boss at his workplace that he thought he was coming down with the flu. They had stayed close, even after Steele Construction folded and Ethan had moved on to another company.

  Mrs. Hashemi hadn’t seemed to age at all over the years, still sporting the same neat cropped head of iron-gray curls, wearing the jewel-colored cashmere sweater sets that Bridget remembered first admiring at the bank.

  Bridget knew that Mrs. Hashemi had found another job after her business had fallen apart—mostly because she had made sure it had happened. Bridget hadn’t been able to guarantee everyone who worked for her would fall onto a soft place, but she’d made it her priority to see that Mrs. Hashemi was okay.