Everything Changes

by Bybee, Catherine

  “We’re negotiating.” He’d moved closer, his eyes kept in constant contact with her chest.

  Grace stood as tall as she could and marched in the gravel to the same point she had a week ago. She touched the pole. “Right here. This is where it starts.” She stormed a couple of yards away to where his plan indicated. “Not here.”

  “There’s got to be something we can do to make this work,” he said. “Some way to work this out.” He reached for his back pocket and removed his wallet.

  Did he really think she’d take a bribe?

  “It is the holidays and I’m guessing the city doesn’t pay as well as the private sector.”

  Grace shook her head. “Don’t insult me.” She kept her distance. Her heartbeat alone told her it was best to keep the man where she could see him.

  He waved his wallet in the air. “The sooner you realize the way the world really works, the better, little lady.”

  “I’ve had just about enough of you and your overinflated ego.”

  His half-cocked smile slid. He shoved his wallet back where he found it and rolled up his plans. “You’re making a mistake.”

  She marched back to her car, ready to swing if he attempted to touch her.

  As she passed, he sucked in a sharp breath, jolted, and slapped the plans against his legs.

  The action made her jump and nearly stumble.

  She glared at him, and he started to laugh.

  “Someone’s on edge,” he said.

  Inside her car, she immediately locked the doors and turned over the engine. Gravel spit in all directions as she drove away.

  Half a mile down the road she looked at her hands shaking against the steering wheel. “Calm down,” she told herself. He was trying to scare her, and he’d succeeded.

  And that pissed her off.

  She needed to vent. Yell at someone who would take her side.

  She thought of Parker. But Parker would tell Colin, and Colin would turn caveman. Or tell Matt, who would make it two cavemen. Worse, they might say something to their dad. Retired cop or not, her dad would bring in his friends, and next thing you know the whole thing is blown up and she’d be branded a problem employee once word got out.

  Thinking rationally was how she needed to proceed. Mindful action. Calm action.

  But all she wanted to do was scream asshole at the top of her voice.

  She pressed the wireless call button on her steering wheel.

  The car made a noise but didn’t ask for a command.

  She did it again.

  While she drove down the busy street, she fumbled in her purse for her cell phone. Her hand reached it and she pulled it out to see if the battery had died.

  Realizing it was her work phone, she dropped it in her lap and dug for the other one. Not feeling it, she slapped the space around her purse in the passenger seat.

  Her mind flashed to her setting it down to look at Sokolov’s shitty plans, and she started to panic.

  Did Sokolov notice her phone? Did he grab it? Did it slide off his car and was in the middle of the road?

  She needed to go back and look.

  What if he was still here?

  He wouldn’t be, she argued with herself.

  But the voice in her head said he might be.

  She waited for a long line of red taillights at an intersection before grabbing her work phone.

  Calling her family was out.

  Calling her brothers’ girlfriend and wife was out.

  Before she lost her nerve, she found Dameon’s number and dialed.

  “Well, this is a pleasant surprise.”

  Just hearing the levity in his voice helped her relax. “Dameon.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Was she that obvious?

  Grace took a deep breath and steadied her voice. “It’s nothing, really. Are you still in town?” She didn’t give him time to answer. “You drove back to the city, didn’t you? It’s okay—”

  “I’m still here,” he interrupted her. “Where are you?”

  “Soledad and Bouquet Canyon. Not far from you.”

  “I’m not at the house. What’s wrong, Grace?”

  “It’s kind of a long story. I lost my phone. I’m pretty sure where it is, but I . . . I don’t want to go back to get it alone. I’d ask my brothers, but they’d freak.” She should just forget the phone and get another one.

  “Why would they freak, Grace?”

  Traffic started to move. Instead of heading up the canyon to Dameon’s house, she turned into the long line of traffic headed toward the mall. “They just would. Can you help me out?”

  “Where can I pick you up?”

  “I’m headed home to change.” She gave him her address. He told her he’d be there in twenty minutes. Grace thanked him and disconnected the call.

  Ten minutes later she walked into her condo, dropped her purse on her coffee table, and sat down. She was still shaking. Partly because it was cold walking into her place, but she knew that wasn’t all of it.

  Adrenaline was dumping into her system like a flood.

  She hated that the man intentionally intimidated her. And that it worked. For years, she’d made up for her short stature with confidence and the occasional attitude. Her father had taught her to punch with her elbow and not her fist for maximum effect. Having two older brothers meant she knew how to take a good ribbing and deliver one as well.

  Yet it seemed like lately she’d lost her edge when dealing with disrespectful men. Richard wasn’t anywhere close to what Sokolov had just pulled, but the lines were blurry as far as she saw it.

  Something needed to change.

  She stood to go splash water on her face and change when her doorbell rang.

  Dameon stood on the other side, his chest heaving like he’d run up the stairs.

  “You didn’t have to rush.”

  He stepped inside and placed both hands on her shoulders. He looked her up and down. “Are you okay?”

  “As soon as I calm down, I’m going to be livid.” She tried to smile.

  His hands slid around her and in the next breath, she was pressed up against his chest. Much as she should probably pull away, she didn’t. Her arms wrapped around his waist, and any adrenaline left in her system spilled out.

  She heard Dameon sigh. “I got ya.”

  He held her in the open doorway of her condo and she let him.

  A light from across the courtyard went on and broke the spell. “Come in,” she said as she pulled away.

  He followed her inside.

  She looked down at herself and back to him. Gone was the laughing, jovial man who was constantly trying to take her out. Replacing him was Mr. Concerned and Worried. His lips a straight line, his eyes searching hers. She pointed toward the back of her condo. “I, ah . . . need to change. Make yourself at home.”

  Dameon ran a hand through his hair and removed his jacket.

  In her room, Grace looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was a mask of white, no color at all. No wonder Dameon was looking at her like that. She looked like she’d seen a ghost.

  It took her less than five minutes to throw on a pair of jeans and a sweater. She ran a brush through her hair and splashed the required water on her face. Looking slightly better and feeling more grounded, Grace walked back into her living room and found Dameon in her kitchen. He’d found a bottle of whiskey and had poured some into a glass.

  He noticed her and pushed the glass her way. “This will help.”

  She wasn’t about to argue. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t thank me, it’s your whiskey.”

  That put a brief smile on her lips. The liquor was warm going down and molten once it reached her stomach. She finally released a breath that didn’t feel jacked up in her throat. She sat on the barstool at her counter. “I needed this.”

  “Grace . . .”

  She held up her drink. “I’m getting there.” She took another sip of the liquor. “I’m afraid wh
at I’m going to say will sound stupid.”

  “I haven’t known you long, but stupid isn’t a word I would use to describe you.”

  She grinned, looked away. “Half an hour before quitting time, my boss, Richard, walked into my office, said I needed to meet with a landowner at five. A real prick of a guy who hasn’t maintained the road leading into his mobile home complex for years, and after last year’s storms, it’s impassable in the rain. He’d been warned multiple times that if he didn’t get it fixed, the city was coming in to do it for him.” She looked up to see Dameon staring at her. “I met with the guy last week, gave him his final warning. He was supposed to get everything in to us yesterday by five. Today is a day late. I’m ticked, but I go.”

  She took the last sip in her glass.

  Dameon took the glass and poured more.

  “I get there. He’s not there. He shows up fifteen minutes late. He rolls out his plans. Bullshit stall tactics I knew were coming. He’s all little lady this, and I’m sure we can work something out. He stands a little too close . . . you know, intimidation tactics. I put some distance between me and him, point out once again what we need, and he starts waving his wallet in the air as if he’s offering me a bribe.”

  Dameon continued to stare, his jaw tight.

  “I’m pissed and I’ve had it with this guy. I tell him I’m done and walk back to my car. But my dad is a retired cop, so I give him space. Give myself space. I walk by and he does this jump thing.” She mimicked Sokolov’s movements. “I nearly screamed. It’s dark and cold and the guy’s an asshole. I get in my car and I leave. And I’m pissed that he got to me. Like I shouldn’t scare so easily. I’m even more livid that he knows he got to me. And it’s then I realize that I left my phone on the hood of his car. I don’t even know if he noticed it. For all I know it’s on the ground and been run over a hundred times by now.”

  Her eyes met Dameon’s.

  And he was pissed. Nose flaring, short breaths, white-knuckled fist gripping the neck of the whiskey bottle to the point she thought it would break pissed.

  He released his hand on the bottle and laid it flat on the counter. “Let’s go get your phone,” he said in a voice so calm it was scary.

  “It might not be there.”

  “We won’t know until we look.”

  She stood, glad to feel steadier than when she walked in. After pulling a long coat from her closet, she grabbed her purse and keys. Dameon opened the door and waited for her. Once the deadbolt was locked, she let him lead her to his car. His hand stayed on the small of her back the whole time.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  It took an incredible amount of restraint to keep his shit together. He knew when Grace called that something had to have gone down for her to cave and call him. Dameon knew he wasn’t at the top of her speed dial . . . yet. She further showed him how scared she was when she let him hold her. And now, when he was calmly driving in the direction she told him and paying attention to the speed limits when he wanted to pull a Mario-Fucking-Andretti to get there, he was showing restraint. And Grace sat quietly in the passenger seat of his truck. He hoped the bastard had hung around. He’d gladly ask Omar for bail money to drive his fist into the man’s face.

  Men who went out of their way to intimidate women were some of the lowest creatures out there.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

  He could lie. “I’m not a violent man,” he told her.

  She sighed. “Good.”

  “But I really want to break something right now.”

  She reached out and placed her hand on his arm. “You can’t. If he’s still there, you can’t.”

  He wasn’t about to make that promise.

  “Dameon, I didn’t call my brothers because that’s exactly what they’d do.”

  “Have I told you how much I like your brothers?”

  “You’ve only met one,” she said.

  “What’s your other brother’s name?”

  “Matt.”

  “I like Matt. Nice guy. Takes care of his family.” He glanced in his rearview mirror. “How much farther?”

  “Before you get to the last light, there’s a dark driveway on your left. Dameon . . .”

  He pushed the speed limit since traffic had eased up.

  “Dameon?”

  “Yeah?”

  She squeezed his arm. “Promise me.”

  “I have a younger brother. He’s kind of useless now. Never really grew up. But when we were kids, we had each other’s back. If someone messed with him at school, they messed with me. That sounds a lot like how you describe your brothers.”

  The first light cooperated, the second one didn’t.

  “Dameon, I’ll lose my job.”

  He turned his head and looked at her. He wanted to tell her that if she lost her job, he had her back. But that’s not what she wanted to hear.

  “I won’t make you sorry you called me,” he told her.

  That seemed to be enough for her. He turned into the gravel drive at a slow pace.

  “He’s not here,” Grace said with a sigh.

  At least Dameon didn’t have to worry about breaking his word with her.

  “Our cars were parked over there.” She waved a finger in the air. “Stop here and leave your lights on.”

  He put the truck in park, left the engine running, and jumped out.

  Grace briskly walked across the drive and concentrated on the ground. “We were here.” She spread her arms out. “I put the phone on top of his hood right about here.”

  They searched the ground in silence.

  Dameon looked far beyond where Grace said she’d last seen it. He walked around his truck and to the edge of the drive through the dry ditch. When he looked back at Grace, he imagined her there with the asshole who scared her. The place was dark. The closest mobile homes were equally dark, as if the residents weren’t there or used blackout blinds to stop the headlights from shining in. Who would hear her if she screamed? Someone would, but would they do anything?

  Dameon’s mind went beyond the darkness and conjured up a whole lot of what-ifs. What-iffing was a waste of time, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He noted the name of the mobile home park. He wouldn’t ask Grace who the man was. Dameon would figure that out easily enough.

  “I don’t see it.”

  Dameon pulled his cell out of his pocket. “I’ll call your number.”

  “Good idea.”

  He found her contact and pressed it. They both stood motionless and listened.

  “Did you have the ringer off?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  It rang several times before going to voice mail.

  “You’re sure you left it on the hood of his car?”

  “Positive.”

  “Maybe he grabbed it,” Dameon said.

  “If he did, he won’t bother giving it back. Probably toss the thing in the garbage or roll over it on purpose.”

  Dameon hoped that was all he would do.

  He put his cell away and walked back to her side. “Guess we need to go shopping.”

  “The last thing I want to do during the Christmas rush.” Her gaze still scanned the ground.

  “Did you try using the app for finding your phone?”

  Grace looked at him as if he were a genius. “I didn’t even think of that.”

  Someone pulled into the driveway and slowed down as they drove by.

  “Let’s stay warm in the cab of the truck.”

  They climbed in and he hit the dome light. He searched the internet for finding a lost cell phone and followed the directions someone had taken the time to spell out.

  Grace gave him the information he needed. A map of the area came up and pinged their exact location.

  “But it’s not here,” Grace said.

  Dameon jumped around a little online. “It says it will locate your phone the last time it had a charge. W
as the battery dead?”

  “Half a charge if not more.”

  He kept searching.

  “I’m going to take another look.”

  Before he could argue, she jumped back out of the truck and scanned the ground.

  Dameon dug up another possibility. One that involved someone taking the sim card out of the phone in that location, therefore disabling the finding apps.

  He killed the engine on the truck and joined her a second time. They both dialed her number and listened for a buzz of a vibrating phone.

  “I don’t think it’s here,” Dameon said.

  “You’re right. Damn, this sucks.” Grace waved her work phone in her hand. “I still have this.”

  “We can get over to the phone store and pick you up another one.”

  She shook her head. “Not tonight.” Grace glanced at her watch. “It’s already after seven. I’m starved.”

  He paused. “Are you suggesting we get something to eat?”

  Their eyes met, and she smiled for the first time that night. “I’ll buy you dinner. It’s the least I can do for putting you through the paces today.”

  “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

  “Do you like prime rib?” she asked.

  “Love it.”

  “I know just the place. Away from the mall and not crowded during the week.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  He opened the passenger door and waited for her to get in.

  Grace wasn’t ready to be alone. She knew she was breaking the rules, but she’d crossed that line when she called Dameon in the first place. So what’s dinner with the man going to do?

  The Backwoods was an old-school steak house complete with dark wood and red tufted seats. The bar looked like it had been plucked out of an old west saloon, and the floor was littered with sawdust. The drinks were stiff and the prime rib filled the whole plate.

  Dameon opened the door and waited for Grace to walk inside. It was a simple gesture, one that some women shunned and others expected. For Grace, it was unassumingly nice. She’d grown up with brothers who were taught to open doors and stand up for girls. At the same time, her parents told her to depend on herself. She’d chosen a profession that was testosterone charged because it was what she knew. As long as she held up her end, she’d be treated with respect. Apparently, that ended at home and didn’t follow her into the workplace.