Hammered: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Hard n' Dirty Book 5)

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Hammered: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Hard n' Dirty Book 5) Page 4

by Alexis Alvarez


  She doesn’t reply, so I add, I’m going home. Dane sent me away a second time. Dick. Need to share an Uber or are you sober, or...

  This time my phone pings. Where r u? I’ll come.

  Upstairs in the restaurant lobby.

  A few minutes later, Lem appears, breathless, lipstick a little smudged. I point to the side of my mouth, and she giggles, wipes her lips. Bae pops up behind her.

  “Dane left?” He glances back out the window.

  “A few minutes ago. Yeah.” I look at the two of them. “You didn’t need to leave the place, though. I just wanted to tell you I’m heading home.”

  “I’ll go too.” Lem squeezes Bae’s hand once, then comes over to me and gives me a hug. “Early morning tomorrow.” She pats my arm. “I’m sober, my friend.”

  “I’ll call you.” Bae gives her a smile that seems full of promises, warm sexy ones, just for her.

  She nods, and flushes. “Okay. Good. I look forward to it.” She pats her blonde updo and smiles. Her eyes are a startling blue, and Bae, like most guys, seems utterly entranced by her.

  In the car, she turns to me, all curiosity. “I saw you with Dane. Guess you don’t hate him as much as you thought?”

  “He ditched me all of sudden.” I frown. “I hope it wasn’t, like, his girlfriend. Or something.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it’s not.” Lem’s voice is encouraging. “Did he say what was going on?”

  “Just that he had a thing.”

  “A thing?”

  “Yeah. A thing.”

  “Hmm.” Lem wrinkles her nose. “You’d think he could give a little more information, but—”

  I interrupt. “I’m sorry, but he’s not, like, a surgeon on call who needs to do a heart transplant. He’s a construction guy. What could be so critical at”—I check the car dash—“11:30 pm on a Friday night?”

  “I don’t know.” Lem stops for a red light, and we’re the only car in our lane, in any lane. It’s like a deserted world around us here, with no other vehicles or people. For a split second, I feel like we’re in a parallel universe.

  “Unless there was an on-site break in?” The light flashes green and she eases forward. “That lock is not foolproof.” She snorts. “And he’s the guy on call for it, as foreman?”

  “Maybe.” I’m not convinced. “It’s just weird. I hope he wasn’t just flirting with me to get me to back off on trying to talk to Danton Carter.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Why does anyone do anything?” I shrug. “All I’m saying is, he had a chance at this.” I wave my hands up and down my body. “And instead he took off to do something else. And he didn’t give me his phone number or anything.”

  Suddenly I feel cheap and stupid. As if the passion, the tension between us was rote and common. “Oh my God. I feel horrible now.” I put my face into my hands. “Shit.”

  “Oh, Talia, no.” Lem reaches out with one hand. “You’re gorgeous and sexy, and if he turned you down, then he’s just an idiot. Okay? Maybe he does have a real issue to handle. And he has your number, right? Your card? Your name? He’ll call you.”

  When I don’t answer, she says, “I could get his info from Bae.”

  “God, no.” I shudder. “That would make me look desperate.” I feel like an old balloon with all the air leaking out. “Well, it looks like you had a good evening.” I inject enthusiasm into my voice because she deserves to get to talk about her fun time.

  “Oh, I did.” She laughs. “Bae is really fun and nice. And smart. He has a degree in economics from Harvard. He created that whole club and it’s making a ton of money and it’s super popular. He’s going to branch out and do a whole chain of them. He owns this restaurant, too, and he’s going to renovate it.”

  “Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of having a unique bar, to have it be a chain operation?”

  “Well, not a chain. More like other different, unique places, with themes. An underground bar that’s like a boat. One that’s like a Jurassic world, a dinosaur jungle.”

  “Cool.” But I’m thinking about Dane.

  “He said something about when he and Dane were at school together. Did Dane go to Harvard, too?”

  “I have no idea.” I flush. “I know really nothing about him.”

  “Well. I guess you can find out, next time.”

  “If there is a next time.” I bite my lip. “You know what, I don’t care if there is, or isn’t. If he’s not interested enough in me to beg me to see him again, then fuck him.”

  I change the topic. “Don’t tell me you didn’t want to go home with Bae.”

  She smiles. “I don’t put out on the first date. Besides”—she clears her throat—“hos before bros. We came together, we leave together.”

  “Your loyalty is touching. Yes. Sisters before misters.”

  “Ah”—she thinks—“chicks before dicks.”

  “Uh-huh. Um…” I exclaim, “Gashes before ‘staches.”

  “Oh, gross. You’re horrible.” She makes a face.

  “But it’s awesome and you know it. I totally win.” I give her a grin.

  “This time, maybe. Ah, how about box before cocks?”

  “Nah, that’s weak.”

  “Fuck. Now I’m embarrassed.”

  As we drive back, joking together, being with my bestie helps me feel better, although I can’t get Dane out of my mind.

  Chapter Six

  Talia

  “Talia?” It’s my boss, Janice—my real boss at the paper. Because this is my real day job, the one that pays my very real bills. Unlike Mark at Earth First Environmentals, who’s such a poor excuse for a leader that a squirrel on crack could probably do a better job, Janice is competent.

  “Got it right now.” I type rapidly, sending her the latest draft of the article. “Updated with fact check and the stuff you asked for, the details about the fire.”

  She raises an eyebrow into her perfect bangs, the ones that are even enough that a contractor could probably use them as a guideline to hang pictures in the Louvre.

  Contractors. Sexy ones, with muscles from here to fucking China.

  Dane, in fact. Dane, who never called me the whole weekend, even after looking into my eyes and promising he would.

  Asshole.

  “So ahead of the game it’s like you time travel.” She adjusts her cat-eye glasses, the ones with the black rims. They make her look sleek and trendy, like a 60s pin-up model revamped as a millennial powerhouse.

  “I try”—I smile and wave my hand—“to hide my powers, but sometimes they leak out.”

  “Well, I’m glad you leak here.” She snorts. “That sounds wrong, but you know what I mean.”

  If we were a little more buddy-buddy, I’d answer back with, “That’s what she said.” But even though Janice is super laid-back, she is still my superior. And relatively new; she was imported from New York by the manager when our old boss retired.

  I tilt my head. “So I have this lead.” I bite my lip, considering. I’ve never before used my position at the paper to push my own agenda, but this story could do double-duty: interest the local public who certainly care about the environment so long as it affects their personal backyard. And it could stir up a response from Danton Carter Construction and maybe get me that talk with the CEO.

  “Oh?” Janice sits her butt on the edge of my desk and crosses one slim ankle over the other, while I admire her Manolos. “What is it?”

  “Local claim to fame, the Moorish Crane, being threatened by a powerhouse construction company.”

  “The what?”

  “The Moorish Crane.” I swallow. “It’s a bird that’s common to this region of the country and it’s an important part of our ecosystem. It’s linked into the food chain because it eats bugs, of course, like mosquitos, and also small vermin.”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “And you might not if Danton continues to buy land and build in that area.” I cross my arms. “They’re buil
ding out in the woods off I-27, just past the Old Garret turnoff. Bought land from the city, all legal, but the site is right up against the main area where the cranes breed. There are other breeding spots, but this is the main one.”

  “Yeah?” She glances across the room, then back to me.

  I speak louder. “The local environmental group has been trying to talk to the owner of the company and can’t get an interview.”

  She purses her lips. “Where’s the drama?”

  “Well, it’s going to put a dent in a few local businesses.” I take a breath. “There’s a popular bird-watching tour run by Grant Gentry. He gets people from all over the country, birders. Not a huge operation, but he told me he’ll have to shut down. Now that Danton Carter Construction is here, access to this particular breeding ground is now blocked by the site. They own it.”

  “What else?” She taps her foot and checks her watch.

  “The Girl Scouts do an annual trip there near that spot, but since it’s no longer public land, they won’t be able to.”

  She tilts her head. “Weak.”

  “Well, I’ve heard that this construction company might have cut corners on past builds.” Guilt surges in my stomach. I did find that in my research, but it was from ten years ago. Nothing recent.

  “Now that’s something I’d bite at.” She stands up.

  “I’ll do a little more digging.” I smile at her and gesture at the laptop.

  “Thanks, Talia.” She sashays off, already talking into her phone.

  ***

  Talking about the fire with Janice reminds me of my cousin, Lia. It’s been too long since we talked, and I could use a friendly voice, so later on during a coffee break, I dial her number.

  When she answers, I deepen my voice. “I’d like to order a pepperoni pizza with extra anchovies and pineapple, bitch.”

  She laughs and mimics a man’s voice, too. “We’re out of those toppings. I’m gonna use salmon and strawberries, bitch.”

  We giggle together at our inside joke, and I smile. “How’s the new job? You staying safe?”

  “Of course I am.” It sounds like she’s rolling her eyes. “If one more person asks me—”

  “It’s the thing to say,” I explain. “I mean, a firefighter. I’m legally obligated as your cousin to ask you at least once a week if you’re being safe. Your mom probably has the right to ask once a day.”

  She makes a laugh but it trails off into a contemplative hmmm, and I wince. Her mom. The scars. Her past. I hurry to mask my error. “Seriously. You like it so far?”

  “It’s good. I’m working on getting the guys to accept me.”

  “You need to kick their asses? You need me to come help?”

  “I’m good. The main one who’s difficult now is the, ah, captain.” A note comes into her voice, a sort of drawl, honey and concern mixed together.

  I pounce. “The captain? Is he hot?”

  “Ah, well, they’re all hot.” She clears her throat. “So, sure. He’s cute enough.”

  “Is he married?”

  “Talia, my mom does enough matchmaking at the grocery store and in church. I hardly need more.” She pauses. “But he is, in fact, very single.” She sounds a little smug.

  “Is he also, in fact, very hung?”

  “I would have no idea. Please. I am a serious woman of industry.”

  “As am I, my friend. But as we both well know, serious women of industry are allowed to look and fantasize.”

  She laughs. “Whatever. Maybe ten inches from a casual observation, but I’m not making any promises. And you do not tell a soul I think about my captain that way.”

  “Who would I tell?” I scoff. “Write an article about it in the paper?” I clear my throat. “In other news, my cousin Lia reports that her new boss, fire battalion captain Hotty Pants, is probably packing a ten-inch firehose in his flame retardant trousers.”

  “You’re disgusting. Are you dating anyone?”

  “No.” I bite my lip, thinking about Dane. “There’s this one guy, but… he’s cagey. I don’t know.”

  “Well, is he hung?”

  “Let’s just say that his hose qualifies him for fire chief status.” I snort. “But he’s kind of a dick.”

  “Guys can be.” She sounds lonely. I wonder how she’s really doing. Ever since that incident when she was a kid, I’ve worried about her, off and on.

  I know she’s doing fine right now, but in the back of my mind… who wouldn’t worry? She burned down her childhood home, could have lost her mom. I know a thing or two about how hard that can be. Especially when you feel like you’re not doing enough.

  So I turn the topic to more serious things. “So, tell me about the job. What do you have to wear? I heard it weighs like fifty pounds, the gear?”

  And as she starts talking, her voice animated with pride and excitement, I listen, glad to hear that she’s so pumped up abut this career.

  ***

  “Marty?” I lower my phone and wipe it on my jeans before putting it back to my ear. The day is humid and 95 degrees at nine am. Breathing is like sucking air through an occluded straw, and I’m already tired with the effort.

  “Tally. What’s up?” Marty’s voice, tinny across the connection, crackles with static.

  “I need help with something. I think it’s in your sphere of expertise.” I feel silly asking. But we’ve kept up regularly since college, and I’m pretty sure he’s a hacker. Also, I did him a favor with photography a year or so ago.

  “Do tell.” He cuts out, then his voice clears up. Across the road, the billboard has a sign for acne medicine. ‘One application and your face is clean.’ I imagine that he put this lotion onto the connection, healing it.

  “Can you help me find out more about Danton Carter Construction?” I’m standing by my car, which I’ve parked at the side of the road. Looking at the turn-in to the construction site.

  “I thought you reporters could get your little mitts onto anything you wanted.” He giggles.

  “Being a good writer doesn’t mean you’re also a motherfucking spy.”

  “I’m a motherfucking spy.” He sounds positively gleeful.

  “Well, that’s sort of why I called you. Maybe you can help me get my little mitts on what I want.”

  “What’s it worth to you?”

  A car drives by, emanating thick gray smoke, and it hangs in the wet air like cotton candy. I think if I breathe that, I’ll suffocate. I wave a hand, but the air molecules don’t budge. “Dinner?”

  Once the car passes, I jog across the road and down the gravel path. I promised not to come back to the construction site, and I’m not. I’m just… looking around the vicinity.

  “Oh, I don’t know. That’s boring.” I hear clicking sounds, then a loud squawk.

  “Not if we go to Larson’s like last time we met up, with that weird band. Is that a bird with you?” I peer down the bend. There’s a vehicle parked ahead, and I just want to get a glimpse of it. See who’s in there.

  “My new African. Her name is Belinda. I’m teaching her Russian.”

  “I didn’t know you knew Russian.”

  “We’re learning together. What do you need?”

  My sandals crunch on the gravel, but there’s a lot of ambient noise—birds, traffic, and this is still sort of public land, so I’m not worried about being here. Or being heard. “I want information, if possible, on the closed agreements from a few years ago. Settlements regarding construction complaints. It’s private and I can’t get my hands on it, but I think it would really help me.”

  “What kind of settlements?”

  “Well, I dug around, on my own, thank you very much, and discovered that they had closed-door arbitration with clients a decade ago. Regarding wiring. I have an article coming on that tomorrow. But I want to know if there are more things like that. Any skeletons about them doing shady work.”

  “That probably wouldn’t be up front on their servers.” His voice is dry.

/>   “I’m aware. That’s why I need someone who’s good at this.”

  “You sure you want to dig?”

  “Well, I mean, yeah.” I slow down, peering ahead. “Why not?”

  “You’re not usually a cloak and dagger kind of person.” He says something, ostensibly in Russian.

  “Well, today I’m daggered up.”

  “Why don’t we talk again in like a week?” More clicking.

  “Well, faster is better. If I can’t get the info in a few days, it’s probably not worth getting.” I take a breath. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “Let me look into it. I’ll call you for coffee when I know more. And I’m definitely up for dinner with the band.”

  “Bye.” I hang up, wipe the phone on my shorts again, and stick it into my pocket. Then I take it out again and put it on camera mode.

  I promised myself I’d never ask Marty for information like this, for work, about a story. It’s risky, because if anyone found out that I have a hacker friend whom I use to get information for my journalism articles, that would not look good. For him or for me.

  But on the other hand, I really want this information. It’s not because I’m pissed at Dane personally. It’s all about the way Danton Carter Construction has been throwing up roadblocks and won't even talk to us about the birds. They can hardly blame me for playing hardball at this point.

  I hear voices, muffled, up ahead around the bend. I step to the side of the gravel road, onto the weeds and wild grasses so my sandals don’t make that crunching noise, and step forward softly, heart pounding. Hoping ticks won’t get onto my legs.

  As I get closer and the voices get louder, morphing from a low rumble into something resembling English—like someone adjusting the focus on a camera lens, making the picture sharper—I feel butterflies in my stomach. One of the voices is definitely Dane’s.

  I step behind a tree and peer out. He’s talking to the mayor. Neither of them notice me, probably because they’re not expecting a spy and because they have their backs to me.

  Dane gestures up ahead and I catch bits of his voice. “Up here we’ll do the… of course, when the initial… is complete…”

  The mayor nods, points. “And… the job increase will be…”

 

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