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

by Alexis Alvarez

  “What do you want?” He crosses his arms. “To know.”

  “Who else is vying for the build in town?”

  He shrugs. “Litmore.”

  “Why is your project better?”

  “You heard the jobs update. That's all true. Not inflated numbers. I don’t know that Litmore provides the same kind of data.” His voice is taut and he checks his watch. “If you’re inclined, I’m sure you could get more info on that.” He gives me a pointed stare.

  “Do you support council member Michael Boyd for his next run, officially?”

  “Our company doesn’t endorse any politician.” He blows out a breath.

  “Unofficially, though, it looks like you two have a relationship. Or that your uncle did.”

  “I’m not my uncle. And looks can be deceiving, Talia.” He scowls at me.

  I bite my lip. “I’m still interested in learning more about your first project out in the woods. I’d like an official comment from you about the fact that you’re destroying the prime nesting ground of the Moorish Crane. That doesn’t bother you?”

  “On the record, I’m proud of the fact that we brought jobs to the community. And that’s all I’m going to say.”

  “Have you even seen one of the cranes?” I don’t like the abject appeal in my voice.

  “Talia, I need to go.” He points back to the room. But his face softens. “You look tired.”

  “I’m tired of crap, if that’s what you wanted to hear.” I purse my lips.

  “Compliments get you nowhere.” He turns on his heel. “Have a great evening.”

  “How about a compromise?” I call out.

  He stops. Turns back. “In what way?”

  “Can you adjust your building plans to spare the crane’s area?”

  He sighs and his expression, for a second, seems sympathetic, before his mouth hardens again. “Talia, no. I already told you. We’re not changing construction plans. We’ve been over this.”

  “Well right now I’m asking officially. On the record.” I clear my throat and tap my notebook.

  “It’s still no.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why not? It’s not in the best interest of the stockholders and the workers. We need this project to stay on track. We purchased the land and have followed all pertinent US rules and EPA guidelines for our build. We’re proud that we’ve employed over eighty-five local Mapleton citizens, who will keep their jobs and their stellar benefits if we continue to operate successfully.”

  He gives a humorless chuckle and gestures back at the room. “You heard what they said in there. Future jobs for Danton Carter are not assured. My corporation needs to meet and exceed expectations.”

  I sigh. “Thank you for the information.”

  He nods. Looks at me for a long minute. Opens his mouth like he wants to say something. But then he shakes his head, and walks away from me.

  ***

  Dane

  The night is winding on, the lights below me in the city blinking, random patterns in the black. I take a swig of my scotch and rub my eyes, bleary from staring at the screen.

  “Fuck.”

  I get up and walk over to look down over the city. Talia’s down there somewhere. I wonder what she’s doing. Try to imagine her. I’ve never even seen her home, but I imagine something cozy and modern. I wonder if she’s sleeping now, or reading. Maybe she's up late like I am, pondering life. Probably writing some kind of potentially negative article about my company.

  This makes me less angry than it should. In different circumstances, I’d admire what she’s doing… she clearly believes in this bird she keeps talking about. If only we’d met in a different way. Not as adversaries.

  When the phone rings, I answer automatically. “Dane.”

  “Danton Junior.” It’s Michael Boyd.

  My gut clenches. I knew this was coming.

  “Michael.” I don’t ask ‘what can I do for you,’ because I know he’s about to tell me, whether I ask or not.

  “Interesting city council meeting.” He sounds smug.

  “Indeed.”

  “I imagine you feel a little on edge, hoping the council will choose your bid.”

  “I imagine the council will make the right decision for the city.” I keep my voice even. I’m not even supposed to know who gave other bids, although in reality it’s easy enough to find out.

  “Speaking of decisions, I’m going to need you to make one.” He sounds like he’s smiling. Confident.

  “About?” I look back over the city.

  He chuckles. “I’m in need of supporters to publicly throw behind me for my Senate run, and I need donations to my campaign. It’s important, because if I win, I’d love to help my supporters work together to make this city stronger through new infrastructure as we work together to create jobs.”

  He’s so slick. I could record this and replay it and it would work for his campaign trail message. But I know what he’s getting at. “So you want me to support you.”

  “You do, don’t you, son?” He sounds surprised. “Your uncle did, and it served him well. And the city of course. The people who work for Danton. Everyone wins when we work together.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Of course, I’m also reaching out to other... constituents. Other companies. Seeing where loyalties lie. I have to make the best decision for this place, of course.”

  “I’m sure you do.” My voice is dry.

  “I have a lot of sway in the city council, especially now with my Senate run.” He clears his throat.

  I’m silent.

  “So let’s say Monday for our next chat. Give you a little time to think things over.”

  “Monday.” I clench my fist.

  “I don’t want to sound full of myself, but I believe I have the deciding vote on the board, should we be in need of a tie-breaker. And don’t you want things decided sooner rather than later? I do.”

  “I see.” My voice is steely.

  “And if you do decide to endorse me for senator, which is clearly in your best interest, let’s shut down this environmental nonsense once and for all. I don’t mind letting the kids play, until they start to make a mess.” His voice gets cold. “I understand from Art that you have a dossier on that woman. Talia.”

  My blood runs cold. “Excuse me?”

  He barks out a laugh. “Oh, Art and I are in touch, too. I was thinking after this thing is decided, the three of us will have a good little sit-down to determine future plans. If you’re still in the mix, that is. The board might be ready to support Art for next CEO? Official? Unless you play your cards right.”

  “You and Art have been meeting,” I say it slowly, and as I do, it makes complete sense. This is the kind of person Art gravitates to. Always has.

  “Art’s got the info. Well, now’s the time to release the beast.”

  “And that means?”

  “I don’t need to tell you that the best defense is a good offense. Confucius said you don’t use a cannon on a mosquito. I disagree. You use that cannon once, and all the motherfucking mosquitos are going to think good and hard about staying away. You hear me?”

  “I do.”

  “Then you do what needs to be done. This is going to be good for you and your company. I look out for my own. You do the same, and we’ll have a long relationship together.”

  He hangs up, leaving me to curse under my breath and crack my knuckles.

  ***

  This time I’ve surprised Art at his apartment in town, a luxury suite in the best hotel. “You’ve been meeting with Michael Boyd behind my back?”

  He blinks. “I wasn’t aware that I was required to log all of my conversations with you, Dane. I know you’re a micromanager, but that’s a bit much, even for you.”

  He’s holding a glass of something. Doesn’t offer me a drink, not that I’d accept.

  “He said you have information on Talia Carlsson.”

  “Well, sure. I told you I have a guy.�
� He smiles. “I don’t see why you’re so upset. This is all just part of running a company, Dane.” A beat. “Oh, wait. But you don’t have that kind of expertise, do you. Luckily, I’ve watched my father for years, and I know how to play the game.”

  “I don’t like this.”

  Art smiles, then it turns to a frown. “Don’t tell me you’re protecting her. Man, she’s out to destroy us. You can’t get tricked by pussy. Destroy her reputation. Fast, clean, surgical. Then she goes away, and so do these shitty environmental issues.”

  I shake my head.

  He looks at me. “Are you fucking serious? You like her?” Pause. “You do realize she has no loyalty back.”

  I swallow, don’t answer.

  “Dane, she stands between us and this next project. It’s simple. Okay? You need to a) get rid of Talia Carlsson, b) get in Michael Boyd’s good graces by doing whatever the fuck he wants and c) keep this current project on track and make issues disappear so we get the vote next council meeting for the future project.”

  “I don’t think we should roll over for dirty local politicians.”

  “Jesus, Dane. I’m not asking you to marry the man. Just endorse him, whatever he wants. Donate to him. You play the game.” His voice rises with frustration. “The money isn’t the issue.”

  “No it’s not. At least, not the only one.” I give him a look.

  “We do what needs to be done.”

  I shake my head. “I think there are other ways.”

  He rolls his eyes. “This is the reason I think Dad was out of his mind when he…” he stops.

  I stare him down.

  “All right. You want me to say it? Fine. Dad made the wrong choice picking you for interim CEO. You don’t know anything about the business. It’s ridiculous! It should have been me, clearly, but if not me, then Harry Oldstone or Gray Blicker. The guys who’ve been around. Who know the systems inside and out. I don’t know what the hell…” He takes a breath. “What he was doing.”

  I shrug. “He knows I have what it takes to turn this place around. He didn’t have the luxury of picking someone he liked.” I smile and add, “He wanted a breath of fresh air.”

  I’m smart—sure. Harvard engineering degree. Own my own construction firm. And I’ve been nominally involved all my life, so I know the basics of Danton Construction. But nowhere nearly as intimately as the people Art mentioned. And, for that matter, my uncle and I have vastly different opinions on certain ethical matters. But although Uncle Danton and I never got along, he always respected my intellect. My decision-making ability.

  “Fresh air is useless when it blows in a lightweight who can’t keep up.” His face is an angry red. “This company has built itself up over the past decades. I could go to the board and have your CEO-ship changed. Terminated.”

  “I have a feeling that would delay the project even more.” I cross my arms.

  “Yes, and that’s the only reason I haven’t done it. But rest assured, I’m not going to put up with this for any longer than necessary.” He’s breathing hard, and for a second I wonder if—although he’s lean and slim—he’s inherited his father’s arterial distress.

  “Calm down.” I point to his couch. “Sit.”

  “I don’t need to sit. Neither do you. You need to act. And if you don’t do it, I will.” He frowns. “Because I actually care about this company.”

  He turns and walks to the door. “Do what needs to be done. You know I’m right about this.” He goes to a side table and picks up a manila envelope. “Read it and see. Just think about it.”

  I follow him and stand in the hall. “Art, as long as I’m the CEO, we’re doing things my way.”

  When I’m back home, I pour myself a glass of whiskey and look at the information he gave me. It makes me feel dirty to look at the report. The investigator dug into Talia’s life, and now I know more about her than I should. More than I would if we were still seeing each other romantically.

  And with a sinking heart, I review the things he talked about. Things that are personal, and should stay that way.

  Putting this out into the world, or threatening her with it, could probably make her stop bothering us. But something about it feels not just wrong, but offensive.

  The thing is: Do I have a choice?

  If I don’t do something, chances are the protests are going to increase. And Art may go to the board and change the way things are getting done. I know he wants to cut free many of the locals I’ve hired and replace them with a skeleton crew from Philly, his own guys.

  Granted, they’d work hard. But so do my guys. And the thought of stripping them from their medical care doesn’t feel right.

  Especially Hector.

  Things are fucking complicated. I take another sip of the whiskey. I need to make some hard decisions, and soon.

  I look out at the city again, but the answers aren’t there. It’s going to be a long night.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Talia

  “So this is on.” Mark’s smile spreads across his thin face. “I’m just so thrilled.”

  I tilt my head. I don’t know what he means. But I’m sure—as always—he’ll elaborate.

  He spits a little when he talks. “Look at this picture. Look at it!”

  He jabs at the screen, where a host of fingerprints smudge, creating a blur.

  “I’m looking.” I lean in as close as propriety will allow, so I don’t violate my own personal space limitations. There’s only so close I want to be to Mark. “Is that Manda Shine?”

  “Yes! Look at what she has.”

  “That’s last year’s crane calendar I made.” I squint. “June. Oooh, that’s a good one.” Despite the weirdness of it, I’m proud.

  His voice is reverent. “And she’s holding it up. Endorsing me. The cranes, that is. Their existence! She’s going to come here and speak out. It’s because she grew up in the town next door. This is, like, her home. In a way.”

  “She’s coming here? For real?” No fucking way.

  “Oh, yes. Next week! She and her people are going to walk onto the building site and do a protest.”

  “I thought you didn’t want people from our organization going onto their construction area.” I step back, a strange feeling in my chest. “You said it made us too PETA-like. Too renegade.”

  He rolls his eyes. “When you do it, it looks crazy. When a big star does it, it seems legit. You understand the difference.”

  I cough. “What about doing things by the book?”

  “This practically guarantees that Danton’s going to have to at least listen. If not make some changes. We might even mess up his future plans in the city. Teach these corporations they can’t mess with us.”

  “If we do that, they’ll have to lay off workers,” I say automatically.

  “Good! Lay them all off.” Mark nods. But he’s only half-conversing because he’s pulled up a screen on his laptop and is typing furiously. Glancing up at me from time to time.

  “But some of them are locals. Low-income.”

  “So?” Mark peers up at me like he’s looking at an alien. He wrinkles his mouth and shakes his head a little.

  “And also…” I bite my lip. “If the project falters and gets bad press, the mayor might change his mind about supporting them for future zoning proposals. He could convince the city council to choose a different company.”

  “As he should. Our town needs to stay pure.”

  “Just that although this project by Danton, yes, sucks for the birds, I saw the plans for the next one, and it’s actually…” I have to admit it, grudgingly. “Really good. For the city, I mean.”

  “What?” Mark, snapped out of his reverie, peers at me. “I’m sorry, it sounded for second like you were sympathizing with Danton. Instead of me. I mean, the environmental impact team.”

  “Mark it’s not… Look, you know the crane is my priority. I just think the issue is complex.”

  “The issue is simple. Either you care abou
t saving the birds, or you don’t.”

  “I do care.”

  “Well, if you truly cared, you’ll be on board when I tell you that Manda will publicly call them out, Danton Carter, for all of their current code violations.”

  “What new violations are you talking about? I didn’t find anything current.” I step forward. “And believe me, I dug.”

  “The public doesn’t know that.” He smiles.

  “Mark, if you’re talking about raising false allegations just to get publicity, that’s not right.” I frown at him. “I certainly hope you’re not—”

  “Look.” He puts his hands on his hips. “All we do is raise the question. Isn’t it fair to ask if they’ve done illegal chemical dumping? If we can actually get someone in here to investigate, maybe from the EPA? Because of the publicity caused by Manda... it could help the cranes.”

  “I’m glad you mentioned the cranes.” My voice is hard. “Because I sort of feel that, at this point, you’re more interested in collecting celebs than birds.”

  “Talia, grow up.” He shakes his head with a sad expression, as if I just wounded him. “This is how life works.”

  I’m more tired than I’ve been in a while. And as I look at his bulletin board littered with fading pictures of celebs, some of them cut from magazines he steals from his dentist’s office waiting area, and some printed out—in fading color—from his aging printer, I feel a little nauseated.

  “Listen, Mark. This is the last time I stand here and listen to you berate me. I’m going home. And I’m done here. And for the record, I don’t like the way you’re doing things these days. Total lack of ethics.”

  I’ve been volunteering here for over a year, and from the beginning, I sensed something was off about Mark. But I ignored it, because being part of this group was fun. For one thing, I met Lem and now she’s my BFF. I’ve learned a lot about animals. About the local ecosystems. It was a hobby that became something more, until—all of a sudden—it became less.

  I nod at him and walk out, feeling strangely hollow. Volunteering here has been part of my life for the past year. But leaving doesn’t seem to have created some kind of gaping hole in my soul. In fact, I feel a freedom, a lightness that makes me uneasy.