“How do you want to start this, Damon?” Barry Reynolds asked.
“We can start with somebody tellin’ me what the hell’s goin’ on here?” Damon slapped the folder to the conference table causing the contents to spill down the length.
“All we’ve learned is that the cuts started gradually a few weeks ago.” Barry said.
“Started with the elimination of a few minor perks,” Roland Bray shrugged, “nothing big but now these cuts are dipping into more pertinent employee benefits.”
“Bobbie, I want you and your staff to record every name and specific complaint from the employees.”
“We’re on it Damon,” Roberta Lowery nodded while making notes on her pad.
“Meanwhile, I’ll make a call to the employee services division, see who authorized this…”
“Good luck with that, D.” Roland grimaced. “Maybe you’ll have more luck that I did. No body seems to know where the authorization for the cuts originated.”
Damon braced his fists to the table, feeling his temper growing darker than it’d been over the last three and a half weeks. A sinking feeling was brewing in the pit of his stomach. He’d need to do more digging before any fingers were pointed.
“Let’s get to work y’all.” He said then, waving a hand to adjourn the meeting.
Bobbie walked by with the folder Damon had tossed and patted his back when she handed it to him on the way out.
Damon only took a moment to wallow in despair then focused on the folder’s contents again. In addition to the general summary of complaints and departments affected, there was the vast list of management staff. Settling behind his desk, he hoped there was at least one manager, supervisor or team leader who might have a clue about what was going on. He reached for the phone and started dialing.
***
Catrina’s Monday morning wasn’t getting off to a better start. She’d returned from the library Sunday evening to over ten messages from Houston Ramsey. Her roommate- also from Savannah- couldn’t believe Catrina was spacey enough to give a Ramsey the run around.
Catrina regretted what she was about to do, but it had to be done. She’d known since leaving the Ramsey dinner over three weeks ago. Her parents were stunned that she’d wanted to return before the new semester began. Her acclaimed work for the business had kept her so busy, but the Jeffries decided not question their daughter heavily.
At school, Catrina spent the bulk of her time cursing the day her family got the job to cater the Ramsey cotillion. That’s where all the mess began after all.
Nevertheless, she couldn’t dismiss how incredible Damon…Ramsey had been. She should’ve known he was one of them. Lord, was there an average looking one in the bunch? She’d constantly asked herself. Did they all have to be uncommonly gorgeous? Gorgeous, hmph. Where Damon was concerned, looks were only the beginning.
There was a quiet power he exuded without saying or doing a thing. The intensity of the affect only made him more appealing. Then, there was that dangerous element lurking in the dark depths of his eyes which promised he could be lethal if provoked.
Thinking of him, his touch on her skin sent Catrina into a slight tremble. The messages from Houston rustled nosily between her fingers. With a curse, she checked her jean pockets for change. She had a call to make.
***
“What’s he done this time?” Westin groaned when he took Damon’s call and asked how the troubleshooting biz was going. The obscenity Damon uttered in response to the light hearted question was a clear indicator that the call related to Marcus.
“With some prime figures on his side in the employment division he helped to arrange the dissolving of several key employee benefits.” Damon shared the news coolly; his mood was anything but cool.
Westin uttered the obscenity that time. “What prime figures?”
“No names yet, but this move increases Ramsey’s bottom line by an impressive percentage. I’ve got accounting working on the actual numbers” Damon leaned back in his swivel and massaged his eyes. “Looks like the money saved was dispersed among these prime figures in employment so don’t bank on getting your hands back on those funds.”
“That fuckin’ snake.” Westin whispered the curse but it sounded just as fierce. “Stupid,” he swiped a stash of papers from his desk. “How the hell did he figure on getting away with this?”
Damon’s jaw muscle clenched over the dread of sharing more foul news. “Various managers and supervisors of the affected departments were met with, given a proposal with the new cuts and told to share the news with their employees. The supervisors had nothing actually in writing, but it spread through the grapevine that it’d all come from the top and that Marcus Ramsey would reward those supervisors who made the transitions smooth.” Damon leaned over his desk and resumed massaging his eyes. “I’ve got shit on this end, West. No names on what management was rewarded, what that reward was or when it’d be received.”
Silence filtered through the line and Damon though his brother may’ve hung up on him. Finally, he heard the rustle of papers on the other end of the phone.
“Thanks D,” Westin said and then slammed down the phone.
Damon stared at the dead instrument for a second or two and then clenched a fist. “To hell with it,” he seethed, tossing down the receiver and leaving the desk.
***
Catrina was shoving a book into her bag; while making her way up the steps leading to her building, when two of her dorm mates walked outside.
“Lucky wench,” Rachel Brown grinned.
“Smart wench,” Tamara Anderson corrected. “He’s way sexier than his brother.” She said and bumped hips with Catrina.
Catrina spared a minute to watch the girl’s saunter down the gray steps and then she shook her head and went inside. She understood Rachel’s and Tamara’s remarks the minute she cleared the dorm foyer. Her gaze clashed with Damon Ramsey’s. He was waiting for her in the vacant waiting room.
“I wouldn’t leave him alone any longer, baby.” Dorm mother Hattie Leer advised from her post just inside the office. “Your dorm mates been eyein’ him like the last piece of sweet potato pie at a church picnic.”
Catrina squeezed the strap of her bag where it rested on her shoulder. “Thanks Miss Hattie.” Slowly, she moved toward the waiting room but stopped just inside the doorway.
“Since it didn’t look like you were going to return any of my calls…” he shrugged.
She rolled her eyes and pulled the strap of her bag from her shoulder. “What do you want?”
“To talk to you, that’s all.”
“I don’t have anything to say to you.”
“Good, then you won’t interrupt me while I explain.”
“Explain.” Her gaze sharpened.
Damon took a chance on moving closer. “I didn’t mean to hurt you Catrina. Never. I never set out to do that.”
“Right. You just didn’t tell me your last name because you wanted to be sure I was refined enough to handle it.”
He bowed his head, jingling keys in his trouser pockets then. “I thought you didn’t want to talk?” He quietly reminded her.
Again, Catrina rolled her eyes.
“You don’t know how things change when I include Ramsey after my first name.” He shrugged and began to walk the room. “Girls have gone from interested to insane in the span of a second. I’ve seen it.” He gave her a look as if to confirm it was all true. “It’s like they’re almost worshipping because of a name I had nothing to do with. It’s like all they see is the name- I’m just what it’s attached to.”
The explanation was so sincere, so sad. Catrina couldn’t believe it. How could a man so intelligent and incredibly fine be so unsure of himself? To think it was all about a name when a girl talked to him was beyond idiotic. She didn’t realize she’d uttered the thought aloud until she noticed his grin.
“Trust me, it’s happened more than I care to admit- not always, but more than enough.” He leaned on
the back of the sofa, hands still hidden in the pockets of his navy trousers.
“I don’t doubt that the girls I’ve known have been very interested but once they hear the name…” His dark eyes rose to her face. “When I met you, Catrina I-I actually forgot how to talk. Just knowing you was the most fun I’d ever had in my life and I was selfish- too selfish to share my name and risk ruining that.”
Catrina wasn’t moved by that part of the conversation. Her lips thinned and she kicked the toe of her pump against her bag. “The talks we had…and at no time did you trust me even a little to talk about who you are.”
“I guess, I didn’t.” It was Damon’s turn to look down at his shoes. “For that I’m sorry especially since my not trusting you damaged whatever trust you may’ve had in me.”
“I called Houston. Broke things off.” She said when silence had hovered between them longer than a minute. “I didn’t tell him…about us.” She read his expression and then smirked. “Guess I can’t be trusted after all.”
“Catrina.” He left the sofa and moved toward her, halting his steps when she backed away. “May I call you?”
Again, she smirked. “Guess you can do whatever you like. You’re a Ramsey.”
A lost look clouded Damon’s bottomless gaze as he watched her leave the room and take the stairs up.
“Don’t fret over it, honey.” Hattie Leer advised. “Give her a bit of time, but don’t give up.”
Damon’s eyes remained on the staircase. “Never,” he vowed.
R
~CHAPTER NINETEEN~
Tuesday nights at the Haven Clinic were usually pretty quiet. Founder Dr. Wayne Potts considered ‘quiet’ sometimes a blessing and other times a curse. Of course, no business was a good thing given his line of work and given the area where his line of work was located.
When he’d decided to do something about the lack of decent healthcare in the poorer parts of Savannah, the area had a true need. Dr. Potts felt his work would never end. After 4 ½ years in existence, the health of his patients had so improved that he’d been repeatedly commended by the city and state for his phenomenal work.
Many of the patients; he’d began seeing at the start of the clinic, were children. He’d watched them grow, head off to school or start their own families. Parents often thanked him and said he was the reason their kids had a chance at a real life.
Dr. Potts was so close to his patients, he knew them all on a first name basis. Yet he couldn’t recall speaking any name with half the horror that he did on that quiet Tuesday evening when seventeen year old Connie Williamson was rushed into the clinic. She was convulsing, beaten and raped.
Dr. Potts’ frantic questions to the staff or the people who brought her in were met with blank looks or panicky shakes of the head. No one could tell the doctor anything other than the girl had been found naked in a field behind the town grocers.
The clinic was soon alive with the sounds of staff being summoned. They rushed to and fro doing the doctor’s bidding for his young patient.
“I want you to contact the police and then her parents.” Doctor Potts told his head nurse once he’d administered meds to cease the girl’s convulsions.
RN Betty Sheridan nodded quickly and cast one last terrified look toward the battered young woman, before heading out to make the calls.
“Who did this to you child?” Wayne Potts buried his face in his hands, expecting no response to the question.
It was sometime before he discovered Connie was trying to speak. He put his ear close to her swollen lips and strained to listen.
“Houston Ramsey.”
***
“Damn straight he has every right to kick you out over this.”
Marcus shuddered. “Can he really do that?” Though livid, he didn’t mind showing fear before his friend.
“Yes, he can really do that.” Jeff Carnes replied without hesitation, and then rolled his eyes. “What the hell were you thinkin’, man? Aside from how much dirty money you could pocket at your family’s expense?”
Marc hiked up his trouser legs and took a seat on the sofa in Jeff’s office. “What are my options?”
“Own up to it. Own up to it all. Even the shit they haven’t found out about yet.” Jeff leaned back in his desk chair, taking mild delight in the fact that he’d caught his client off guard. “Knowing you the way I do, I assume there is more shit. My morning’s clear so why don’t you tell me about it?”
***
Catrina experienced a feeling of déjà vu when she walked into her dorm that evening and found Damon waiting in the lobby.
“Have you eaten?” He asked when they were in earshot of one another.
She shrugged. “Just going to the cafeteria after I change.”
“May I take you out?”
“Damon, I don’t-”
“I won’t stop asking until you say yes.”
Expecting as much, Catrina bowed her head and silently admitted she was tiring of the cold act. She remembered how unsettled she’d been when she left him down in the lobby three days earlier. She was sure she’d never see him again.
Damon strolled toward her with both hands hidden in the pockets of his salt and pepper trousers. He thrust out his elbow and Catrina followed the silent order to take his arm.
Her eyes were wide when she surveyed the plush dining room in the hotel restaurant. The Sherry Hotel was a place she and her friends had only dreamed of being taken to.
“Will you be putting the meal on your room, Mr. Ramsey?”
“Yeah, thanks Calvin.” Damon signed the pad the maitre’d offered when they stopped at the podium.
“How long have you been here?” Catrina asked.
“I never left.”
It took some time before Catrina was able to swallow around the ball that had lodged in her throat. “Look, if it helps you to know it, I accept your explanation. I can understand where you were coming from.”
Damon halted his steps and looked down at her. “Do you trust me?”
She bristled. “I don’t really know you well enough, do I?”
He didn’t take offense. “Guess we’ll have to do something about that.”
~~~
Catrina merely wanted to satisfy her curiosity over what the rooms looked like at The Sherry. At least, that was the excuse she made herself believe. Of course the suite was to die for, but too soon the familiar feeling of simmering arousal was rendering her weak.
“I um, I should get back.” She whispered, her mouth going dry when Damon tossed his suit coat to a chair. He stalked her then until she was between him and the dresser. His fingers trailed her cheek, her neck and collarbone-bare thanks to the scooping line of her gold sweater.
“I didn’t think I’d see you again.” She felt as desperate for conversation as she was for his touch.
“Why?” His onyx stare was focused on the path of his fingers along her skin.
Catrina bit her lip and didn’t care if he felt her trembling. “For someone like you… someone like me would be easy to forget, replace…”
“Shut up.” He told her seconds before his tongue filled her mouth.
The moment turned steamy in a second. His hand cupped her neck loosely, his thumb tilting her chin and keeping her in place for his kiss. Catrina melted as expected, arching eagerly when he hoisted her against his tall, leanly muscular form.
Something fluttered beneath her ribs when she wound her arms about his neck and buried her fingers in his silky dark hair. Her nails raked the close cut waves which tapered at his neck and; shamelessly, she nudged her breasts against his chest.
Damon took the silent cue, carrying Catrina up the steps leading to the canopied bed in the farthest corner of the room. He broke the kiss to nuzzle her ear and the sensitive spot below it. With deft, expert fingers he undid the buttons lining the back of her sweater. The bra followed the sweater’s disappearance.
Catrina knew she should resist, but what he was doing to her nipples the
n felt too incredible to deprive herself of. She let him have his way and tossed both hands above her head. Damon cupped both his hands about her breasts, molesting one nipple with rubs and squeezes while his tongue soothed and suckled the other. Instinctively, she began to rotate her hips in another silent plea.
The phone rang and continued to ring. Damon seemed content on ignoring it, understandable given his groans and whispers as he feasted on her nipples and every other bared area of Catrina’s body. When the ringing ceased only to resume suddenly, he finally took heed and broke away from her.
“What....? How the hell did they find me here…no, no it’s alright put it through…Colby what the hell-? What?…shit…”
The agitated exchange on the phone told Catrina the interlude was at its end. She’d slipped back into her bra and had her sweater across her chest by the time Damon slammed down the phone.
“Houston’s in jail,” he said.
***
“Is this for real?” Damon was asking the next morning while he and Colby Martin waited in the hallway outside the courtroom. Colby was the ringer Damon had requested be put in the youth department to keep an eye on Houston.
“I didn’t witness the incident, thank God.” Colby worried her chin with rapid taps from her fingernails. “Judging from what I have witnessed- including my own share of run ins with your brother- I don’t have a doubt that he did this.”
Damon was still in a state of disbelief. Colby’s perky voice sounded muffled in his ears. He’d seen the girl Houston attacked. His first stop had been to the hospital…Such rage- the attack on that girl had been pure rage personified. He predicted the father would want blood. Damon knew he would.
“It’s a pure mess,” Colby’s light green stare widened when the judge’s chamber doors opened.
Houston walked out with Jeff Carnes and went right to Marcus, crying on his brother’s shoulder like a child.
“’Scuse me, Damon,” Colby whispered, nodding as Jeff approached.
“He confessed the minute he sat down in the chair.” Jeff said.
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