Billion dollar baby bargain.txt

by Неизвестный

  She had absolute confidence in the truth of that statement. “Excuse me for a second. I need to let Marcy

  know I’m leaving.”

  She walked over to Marcy’s desk. Marcy was in her late fifties and was someone Summer had become

  close to since working at the shelter. “I’m going to lunch now, Marcy.”

  Marcy smiled. “Okay. Did you ever get that dripping faucet at your house fixed?”

  Summer shook her head. “Not yet, but I better do so soon, since it’s keeping me from getting a good

  night’s sleep.” She then turned to rejoin Darius and together they left the building to walk over to the

  café for lunch. Her morning had been busy and she needed time away from the shelter. She always

  enjoyed her lunch, at least whenever she could make time for it.

  It was a beautiful day and for some reason, Summer couldn’t push aside the pleasurable sensations she

  was feeling with Darius beside her. She felt lucky today. She had counseled two women that morning

  and after listening to their stories, a part of her felt blessed that she had cut her ties with Tyrone when

  she had, otherwise she could have been one of them. And although Tyrone had caused unnecessary

  drama that had landed him behind bars for twenty years, she was free to make choices about her life.

  Now it was her job to convince those two women they could make choices about their lives, as well.

  “So, how has your day been so far?” Darius asked.

  She began sharing bits and pieces of how busy she’d been as they continued their walk to the café.

  Although his legs were a lot longer than hers, he adjusted his steps to keep in line with hers. More than

  once, while sharing her ideas about a number of things she would like to see happen at the shelter, she

  would glance up and see how absorbed he was in what she was saying. They were ideas she hadn’t

  shared with Kevin Novak for not wanting to overwhelm the man since everything she had in mind

  included a hefty price tag. But they were expenditures she felt would greatly benefit the women who

  sought refuge at the shelter.

  Then, while it was on her mind, she asked about his brother, something she should have done long

  before now since she knew how close the two of them were. Like her, he had lost his parents at an early

  age, and he and his brother had been raised by their grandmother.

  “Ethan is doing fine now.”

  She opened her mouth to ask what he meant by that when suddenly a warm, masculine arm snaked

  around her waist to stop her from stepping in a rut in the cement sidewalk. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it,” he said, releasing her.

  Summer tried to ignore the sensations that raced through her veins at his touch. When they reached the

  café and he opened the door, she quickly moved past him, wondering how she was going to get through

  her meal.

  Kate Thornton Brody smiled up at Darius. “You need a woman in your life,” she said.

  Darius lifted a brow, wondering where that had come from. He glanced across the living room and shot

  Lance a questioning look, but all his friend did was smile and shrug his shoulders. Damn, he hadn’t been

  in the house five minutes and already Kate was on him about being single.

  Seeing that Lance wouldn’t be giving him much help, Darius reached out and placed a friendly arm

  around Kate’s shoulder. “Sweetheart, you know I prefer being single.”

  She gave him one of her sidelong looks that said she’d taken what he’d said with a grain of salt. “So did

  Lance at one time.”

  “But now he has you and he’s a lucky man,” Darius said truthfully. He had known Kate ever since she

  began working for Lance as his very competent administrative assistant when he took over Brody Oil

  and Gas a few years back, and had always liked her.

  “What’s for dinner? I’m starving,” he quickly said, before Kate could make another comment about the

  state of his affairs or lack of them.

  “Didn’t you eat lunch?” Lance asked, finally moving off the sofa.

  Lance’s question reminded him of Summer…not that he could forget. He hated admitting that whenever

  he had lunch with her, it was a pleasant experience. She was a great conversationalist. Always had been.

  And today she’d seemed more relaxed with him, more at ease. And as usual, she had looked beautiful

  sitting across from him.

  “Yes, I had lunch,” he finally said. “A salad.”

  Humor lit Lance’s eyes. “A salad? What kind of foolishness is that?”

  “Don’t let Lance tease you, Darius. There’s nothing wrong with eating a salad,” Kate said, walking back

  toward the kitchen.

  When she was gone, Lance looked at him and chuckled. “I take it you had lunch with Summer.”

  Darius met Lance’s amused look. “What makes you think that?”

  “She’s the salad girl.”

  Darius couldn’t help but smile. When he’d left Houston because of Ethan’s accident, Lance had shown

  up in Charleston to give him the support he needed. It was during that time that he had told Lance all

  about Summer, even how much she liked eating salads.

  “I’d like to meet her. Invite her over one—”

  “It’s not that kind of relationship, Lance, and you know it,” he said quickly, deciding to squash any

  foolish ideas that might be floating around in his best friend’s head.

  “Whatever you say,” Lance said, smiling.

  “I’m serious, Lance.”

  “Of course you are. I believe you.”

  Darius frowned. He could tell his friend really didn’t believe him. “It’s hard to love someone who has

  hurt you deeply,” he said.

  The amusement disappeared from Lance’s face. “I’m glad everyone doesn’t feel that way, Darius, or I

  wouldn’t have Kate as my wife. If you recall, I almost lost her when I announced my engagement to

  another woman. But she still found it in her heart to give me another chance.”

  Darius’s frown deepened. “So, what are you trying to say?”

  Lance held his friend’s gaze. “What I’m trying to say is that if you love someone, there can always be

  forgiveness.”

  “I really appreciate you walking me out to my car again, Barney, but it’s really not necessary,” Summer

  said to the security guard at her side.

  “No problem, Ms. Martindale. Besides, it’s Mr. Franklin’s orders.”

  Summer shook her head, still not sure how Darius could give orders when he wasn’t paying the man’s

  salary. She was just about to ask Barney how that was possible when he suddenly said, “Someone has

  slashed your tires.”

  “What?”

  “Your tires,” he said, pointing his flashlight on her car. “They’ve been slashed.”

  Summer followed the beam of light and saw what he was talking about. She hauled in a deep breath,

  recalling the last time her tires had been slashed and who had been responsible. She forced herself to

  calm down as old fears tried to resurface.

  That was all seven years ago. Tyrone was locked up and couldn’t touch her. More than likely, the

  husband or significant other of one of the women at the shelter was venting his anger on her since the

  shelter was standing in the way of the person he really wanted to take it out on. But it couldn’t be

  Samuel Green, since he was still locked up, held without bond.

  “I need to follow procedures and report this to the police, Ms. Martindale,” Barney was saying,

  int
errupting her thoughts. “Please come back inside while I contact the authorities and complete an

  incident report.”

  Summer turned her attention away from her tires. “Yes, of course.”

  She moved to follow him back inside. She’d heard reports of acts of revenge being directed at staff

  members who work with victims of violence. Incidents of rock throwing, drive-by shootings and even

  bomb threats had been reported. As far as she was concerned, the person who damaged her tires was

  nothing but a bully.

  “Are you all right, Ms. Martindale?” Barney asked with concern when they had reached the door to go

  back inside.

  She forced a smile on her lips. “Yes, I’m fine.” She heard the words she’d just spoken, but wasn’t sure

  she believed them herself.

  Seven

  “W hat’s this about your tires getting slashed last night?”

  Summer glanced up and saw Darius leaning in her office doorway. News had spread quickly. The

  evening crew from last night had a lot to share with the staffers that had arrived that morning. She’d

  figured he would hear about the incident sooner or later. She wished it had been later, since she really

  didn’t want to talk about it right now.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard the story, Darius, and I’m not in the mood to rehash it.”

  “Humor me,” he said, crossing the threshold and closing the door behind him. She couldn’t help but

  study his features. There was something different about his eyes. Their darkness was still striking, but

  now they contained an element of hardness she hadn’t seen since that first day he had discovered her

  working at the shelter. And his lips were pressed together in a tight line. On most days, it wouldn’t take

  much to look at his lips and remember how they had introduced her to pleasures of the most decadent

  kind in a single night.

  “I’m listening.”

  Summer blinked. While she had been staring at him, probably like a lust-crazed woman, he had taken a

  seat in the chair in front of her desk. She leaned back, trying to relax under the intensity of his direct

  gaze, but found it difficult to do so.

  “What you’ve already heard is probably correct,” she started. “Barney walked me out to the car like he’s

  been doing since that incident with Samuel Green and noticed my tires had been slashed. We came back

  inside, called the police to report it and he filled out an incident report. End of story.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  She heard the near growl in his voice. He was angry, she could tell. And she knew his anger was not

  directed at her but at whomever had slashed her tires. Given his mood, that was a comforting thought.

  “I want to find out who did it,” he said in the same tone of voice. “What did the police say?”

  She shrugged. “Not much. They would have liked a list of the women residing here to check out the

  names of husbands and boyfriends, but because of our confidentiality policy, we couldn’t provide it for

  them. I contacted the TCC earlier today to see if we could have two guards here at night instead of one.”

  “I thought there were two guards here since the night of that incident with Green.”

  “That lasted all but two days before one of them was pulled. Evidently, the TCC rehashed the idea and

  felt only one was needed. That’s why I called them—to see if they would reconsider since the staff

  members around here were beginning to get nervous. However, the man I spoke with at the TCC said

  adding an additional guard wasn’t going to happen.”

  “Who did you talk to?”

  “I asked for Kevin Novak but the person I talked to was an older gentleman by the name of Sebastian

  Huntington.” She saw his jaw twitch. “You know him.”

  “Yes, I know him.”

  Summer noticed that he’d said the words in a tight voice with more than a little distaste. “He wasn’t very

  friendly,” she added. “Nothing at all like Mr. Novak.”

  He didn’t say anything but from the way he was looking at her, she knew he was taking it all in. And

  then he asked, “Is there anything else?”

  She shook her head. “No, nothing other than the piece of paper that had been placed on my car, which I

  also mentioned to the police last night.”

  He lifted a brow, his posture on full alert. “What paper?”

  “One night last week someone placed a note under the wiper blade. Barney had walked me to my car,

  and he pulled it off and gave it to me, thinking it was some kind of sales flyer. It wasn’t until I stopped at

  a traffic light and glanced at it did I notice what it said.”

  “And what did it say?” he asked, leaning closer and moving toward the edge of his seat.

  She swallowed, remembering precisely what was written in bold letters on the paper. “It said, ‘I take

  care of my own.’”

  The moment Darius left Summer’s office he darted into an empty conference room and called Kevin. He

  picked up on the second ring. “This is Kevin.”

  “Kev, were you informed that Huntington had reduced the number of security guards at Helping Hands?”

  “No.”

  An angry Darius went on to tell Kevin about the incident that had occurred last night. “Huntington has

  no right to make those kinds of decisions without discussing it with the committee first, and I am part of

  that committee,” Kevin said, almost livid.

  “The man’s been a part of the TCC for so long I believe he thinks he owns it, which is why he constantly

  overlooks anything the younger members have to say,” Darius said.

  “And how is Summer Martindale?”

  “She’s a little shaken up, although she was trying not to show it. The staff here is nervous—first Green

  breaking doors down and now this tire-slashing incident. It doesn’t bode well. There have been revengetype

  incidents reported in various cities around the country, and they are aware of it. We need to make

  sure they feel protected.”

  Darius tried to convince himself that his concern for Summer was no different than his concern for any

  other woman he’d once been involved with, but deep down a part of him knew that wasn’t true. He

  would even go so far as to admit missing her whenever he spent time away from Helping Hands.

  They were feelings that he didn’t want to feel. One way to remedy that was to start keeping his distance,

  but then he wouldn’t be able to make her feel the way he had felt when she’d left. He just needed to

  make sure he kept things in perspective.

  “I totally agree,” Kevin said, bringing Darius’s attention back to the matter at hand. “I’ll confront

  Huntington myself, and if I have to, I’ll call a special meeting of the board.”

  Moments later, Darius hung up the phone feeling a lot better than he had before making the call to Kev.

  He knew his friend wouldn’t like the “executive” decision Huntington had made regarding the security

  at the shelter any more than he did. As usual, the man was trying to throw his weight around, fighting for

  power he really didn’t have. But Darius relaxed a bit, knowing Kev was on it.

  He glanced at his watch. He needed to leave for a while to attend to business concerning the fire at the

  refinery—he had to talk to several guys who had been off work the day he’d met with the employees the

  last time. But he intended to return to the shelter before Summer left for lunch. The thought of her

  walking anywhere alone trouble
d his mind.

  From now on, he would make sure that she was well protected. At all costs.

  Three days later, Summer glanced over at Darius before looking down at her watch. It was a little past

  eight in the evening. She had volunteered to stay for a few hours to help man the abuse hotline, and he

  had surprised her when he volunteered to assist her.

  At first, she hadn’t been sure whether women on the other line would want to unload their pain and

  anguish to a man, but from overhearing bits and pieces of his conversations, she could tell he was

  handling things quite nicely. She would be the first to admit that he had a good demeanor for assisting

  those who called in, male or female.

  “What time are you leaving?” she asked him. Since the night her tires had gotten slashed, he had made it

  his business to return to the shelter every day after being at the refinery in the mornings, to walk her to

  the café for lunch. And if she remained late in the evenings, he did so, as well. Then he would not only

  walk her to her car, but would follow her home to make sure she got in safely.

  “I’ll leave when you leave,” he said, glancing over at her.

  In a way, his protectiveness irked her. She didn’t want him to feel like she needed him in any way.

  “There are two security guards now, so I’ll be all right.” She really hadn’t been surprised when, the day

  after the tire-slashing incident, two guards were on duty. There was no doubt in her mind that Darius had

  had something to do with it, although what exactly, she wasn’t sure.

  “I plan to leave in a few minutes,” she said.

  He smiled over at her. “Then so will I.”

  And he did. After she had handled the last call she would take, she gathered up her belongings and

  headed for the door with him by her side. He nodded to the guards on duty as they passed.

  “Nice night,” he said.

  She looked up at the sky and saw the full moon and the stars, and how they illuminated the otherwise

  dark sky. He was right. It was a nice night.

  “I’ll be following you home again.”

  She glanced over at him. “It’s your gas.”

  She said nothing as they continued walking. When he opened the car door for her, she slid inside,