The hostess smiled as they walked in the door. “Hello.”
Grace knew the woman but had forgotten her name. “Is Carrie here tonight?”
“She is.”
Carrie was a friend from high school that had been working there since she was old enough to serve alcohol.
The hostess grabbed two menus and walked in front of them.
“Do you know everyone in this town?” Dameon asked.
“That’s what happens when you live in the same place your whole life.”
They were placed in a half-moon booth, giving her and Dameon the opportunity to sit closer to each other than if they were in individual chairs with a table separating them. They both shrugged out of their coats and scooted into the booth.
“I didn’t think these places existed anymore,” Dameon confessed once the hostess left.
“They do. I know a few around here for different types of food. You can get fancy closer to where I live, but the quality for the price can’t be beat here.” Not that The Backwoods was cheap, but it wasn’t anything compared to downtown LA where Dameon lived.
She couldn’t help but wonder if this felt hick to him.
If it did, she’d rather know now.
Carrie walked up to the table with a huge grin. She leaned over to hug Grace. “I haven’t seen you for at least a month. How are you?”
“Busy, like always. How’s Cody?”
“Turns five next month. Hard to believe.” Carrie glanced at Dameon.
“Dameon, this is Carrie. We met in tenth grade.”
Carrie smiled with a nod. “Lovely to meet you,” she said.
“Likewise,” Dameon said.
“Oh, that voice. Are you in the movies or do radio?”
He laughed. “Afraid not.”
“Well, you should. Don’t you think, Grace?”
“I’m sure he’d have a long career doing voice-overs,” Grace said.
Dameon actually looked a little embarrassed by the praise.
“What are you two drinking?” Carrie lifted a notepad and poised her pen to write.
“Is Adam behind the bar?” Grace asked.
“Yup.”
“Tell him it’s me and I want an old-fashioned.”
“Make it two,” Dameon said.
“Coming right up,” Carrie said with a wink.
She walked off and Dameon leaned closer. “She seems nice.”
“Carrie’s good people. Her little boy is adorable.”
“How is it growing up in a place where everyone knows you?”
“There’s well over two hundred thousand people in this valley. Not everybody knows me.”
“Why do I doubt that?”
“It helps that my dad was a cop in this town. That’s a close-knit group all by itself.”
“Does it get you out of tickets?” he asked.
She shook her head, then nodded. “When we were new drivers, my dad would tell his friends to pull us over if we sneezed wrong.”
Dameon laughed.
“We were so paranoid about getting a ticket that our friends never wanted us to drive anywhere. The funny thing was my dad’s friends weren’t nearly as bad as my mom’s. The PTA moms in this town knew who just got their driver’s license and were constantly reporting if they saw something they didn’t like. It’s easy to spot a police car. But everyone and their brother drives an SUV in this town.” The busboy dropped off a basket of garlic bread, and Grace dug in. “We didn’t get away with anything.”
“Kept you safe, I bet.”
“It did. I look back and realize I’ll do the same thing if I have kids.” Although she’d started to lose faith that kids would be a part of her world if her relationship status didn’t change. “What about you? Did your parents helicopter you growing up?”
“Nothing like yours. My dad was a contractor, worked with his own team doing remodels and the occasional small complex. His reach wasn’t nearly as big as your family’s. Mom helped with his bookkeeping and back office work. She was involved in some of the school stuff we were in, but I don’t remember the PTA being a thing.”
Carrie arrived with their drinks, murmured something about getting an order out, and disappeared.
Grace swirled her drink with the cocktail straw. “So that’s how you got into investing? Your dad?”
“My dad taught me construction. But I thought he worked too hard. He said he kept his business small because he didn’t need the stress that went along with the money of making it big. But apparently his stress level was up there anyway.”
“Oh, why?”
Dameon picked up his drink. “We lost him five years ago. Heart attack.”
Grace looked him in the eye. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry.” She couldn’t imagine losing her dad.
“Thanks. It was hard. None of us saw it coming. Hit my mom the most.”
Grace sipped her drink. “I bet it did.”
“I wanted to build more, be more, than my dad. My parents encouraged me, helped out in the beginning.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
He nodded and tilted his drink back. “I do. I like the fact that I employ people and build things. Or my company does, anyway. With that comes responsibility for the people who work for me, and I never lose sight of that.”
“That’s good. Keeps you humble. I would think a lot of men in your situation forget where they started and make bad choices when they do.”
Carrie stopped by the table again. Neither of them had opened a menu, not that Grace needed to. She ordered prime rib with her desired sides, and Dameon lifted two fingers in the air.
“You trust me with your cocktail and your dinner?” Grace asked.
“How soon we forget the pedicure.”
Grace started to laugh, her eyes met Dameon’s, and he laughed right along with her. They eased into a conversation that moved from pedicures to projects, and the stress of the day began to melt off her shoulders. They took their time eating and talking about their families. Dameon told her he wasn’t close to his brother, which baffled her. She countered with the fact that there wasn’t a week that went by that she didn’t talk to her brothers if not see them. It helped that she was friends with their significant others.
They finished with coffee and skipped dessert.
With her full stomach and head slightly affected by their drinks, Grace found herself staring at Dameon and wondering how the hell they got there. Yes, she knew, of course, but despite the fact that she knew better than to foster anything more than a working relationship with the man, she kept wondering what if . . .
What if they had met outside of work?
What if he was as infatuated with dating her as he said he was?
What was really wrong with that?
“Someone got quiet,” Dameon said, snapping her out of her internal monologue.
She dropped her gaze to her hands resting on the table. “I was trying to figure out a way to blame you for breaking my self-imposed rule.”
“What rule is that?” he asked with a grin.
“Dinner and drinks with someone I’m working with.”
“Ah. You make it sound like I’m part of the office staff.”
Their eyes met again. “You’re hardly that.”
He reached over and covered her hand with his.
Her skin buzzed with the simple contact. And from the way Dameon’s smile disappeared and was replaced by heat in his eyes, he wasn’t unaffected by the touch either.
Silence spread between them, and for the first time all night, Grace couldn’t think of a single word to utter.
The gentle touch of Dameon’s thumb stroking the back of her hand had her trembling.
“Grace—”
Carrie walked up to the table at that moment, cutting Dameon’s words off. “I’m so glad you came in tonight,” she said, her cheery voice a full octave above the tone at the table.
Grace shrugged out of the spell Dameon was placing her under and turned to her fri
end. “Let me know when you need a night out, we can go for drinks or maybe a spa day.” As Grace spoke, she slowly slid her hand out from under Dameon’s.
“You don’t know how much I would love that.” Carrie set the bill on the table. “Nice meeting you, Dameon.”
“Likewise,” he said.
Carrie walked away, and Dameon confiscated the check before Grace could grab it.
“I said I was buying,” Grace told him.
He placed a credit card in with the bill and set it on the table. “Not in my world.”
She kept her hands in her lap to avoid the temptation of touching him again. “Is that a sexist thing? You can’t let a woman buy your dinner?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. Then he stopped and looked her in the eye. “Yeah, probably. My mom would call it good upbringing.”
Grace shrugged. “My dad would say the same thing.”
Dameon paid the bill, and they said their goodbyes to Carrie.
Halfway to Grace’s condo, Dameon brought her back to why they were out together in the first place. “Are you feeling better about tonight?”
“With Sokolov?”
“Is that the guy’s name?”
“Yeah. And yes, I am. I’m sure after a good night’s sleep I’ll be ready to deal with the situation more rationally. I don’t scare easy, but this guy got to me.”
“Last time I looked, offering a bribe was illegal. You can always go after him legally,” Dameon suggested.
She wasn’t willing to go there. “I’ll let Richard know what happened and make a stand when it comes to dealing with him in the future.”
“I don’t like the idea of you having to deal with him at all.”
“I won’t meet with him alone again.” Once bitten, twice shy, she told herself. There was no reason to give the man another chance at scaring the crap out of her. If anything, those tables needed to turn in the other direction. “Thanks for coming with me.”
Dameon turned his truck onto the street leading to her condo. “I’m honored you thought to call me, Grace.”
She didn’t know how to respond to that, so she sat in silence the rest of the way home.
Dameon found an empty parking space and pulled in.
“You don’t have to walk me to my door,” she said.
He cut the engine and twisted in his seat. “Humor me. I’ll feel better knowing you’re inside safe.”
“I’ve lived here for five years.”
“Humor me,” he said a second time.
Grace nodded and stepped out of his truck.
She could see her breath in the cold night air. The bite of the wind had her walking faster. “I can’t believe it’s almost ten o’clock.”
“It’s been a long day for both of us,” he said.
At her door, she pulled her keys out of her purse and turned to him. For the second time that night, she felt a wave of nerves as the evening ended. “Thank you, Dameon. For coming, for dinner . . .”
“You’re welcome.” He stood just out of reach and wasn’t making any attempt to move in to kiss her.
She shivered.
“You should go in.”
With a nervous nod, she fiddled with the key in the deadbolt and twisted the lock. She pushed the door open, and the warm air from inside rushed against her skin. She stepped inside and turned. “Good night.”
“I’ll see you Friday.”
“Right.”
“Good night.”
She started closing the door.
“Grace?”
She stopped and looked up. “Yeah?”
“Just one more thing.” Dameon stepped forward, reached up with a hand to her face, and pressed his palm against her cheek. Their eyes met right before he bent his head and removed any space between them. His lips were warm, and her heart raced with all the excitement of the first taste of the man. Dameon was kissing her, and heaven help her, she was stepping into his arms and tilting her head back to take in the whole experience.
He moved his head to the side and coaxed her lips open.
The man was entirely too good at making her break the rules.
Just as his kiss started to deepen and border on the kind of kiss that shouldn’t happen in public, Dameon ended it.
She blinked her eyes open and found him smiling down. “I want to do that again . . . soon,” he murmured low in his throat.
Words failed her, so she settled with a nod.
He traced the side of her jaw with his thumb before dropping his hand and stepping away. “Good night, Grace.”
“G’night.” She backed into her condo and closed the door.
She heard his footsteps retreating, and she leaned against the wall.
A slow smile spread over her face. The man took her breath away and had her aching for more than a good-night kiss at her door.
Dameon Locke was fast becoming an addiction she didn’t want a cure for.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Grace gave herself credit for not barging into Richard’s office at eight a.m. sharp. She waited until eight thirty. She gave him the courtesy of rapping once before opening the door and letting herself in.
He looked up in surprise.
“Good morning,” she said, giving him the simple pleasantries of polite conversation even though he didn’t afford her the same respect.
“Do we have a meeting this morning?” he asked.
She ignored his question. “Last night’s meeting with Sokolov was a complete waste of time, as I thought it would be. The so-called plans he wanted to use looked like they’d been drawn by a ninth grader and didn’t take anything we’ve spelled out into account.”
Richard stared at her, completely void of emotion. “And you couldn’t tell me this at Monday’s meeting?”
His question took her aback. He was right. “He attempted to offer me a bribe,” she blurted out.
He raised his eyebrows. “Attempted, or did?”
“He waved his wallet around and said there must be some way we could work this out.”
“So he didn’t directly say he’d give you money to approve his plan?”
“He was more subtle than that. I made it clear what we required and left.” He also went out of his way to scare the shit out of her, but she left that out. Richard obviously wasn’t seriously alarmed by her news.
“The last thing we’re going to do is jump into some legal action on vague charges.” Richard leaned back in his chair.
“I wasn’t suggesting we do. I thought you should know what happened. And in the future, I won’t be meeting Mr. Sokolov without someone else with me.” Especially after the sun went down . . . but again, she left that out.
“Well . . . thank you for informing me.” He scooted closer to his desk. “Now if you don’t mind?” He motioned toward the door.
Grace walked away from her boss’s office feeling like she’d just tattled to her teacher about a boy being mean in class.
Back in her office, she closed the door and slumped in her chair. The pile of work on her desk never seemed to go down, and the gratification of doing her job had started to bleed into puddles on the floor that needed to be cleaned up. What happened to the joy she once felt? The job hadn’t changed. Her boss was always kind of a jerk. To her, anyway.
The institutional-style clock on the wall clicked away the seconds.
Every day the seconds turned into minutes, minutes into hours. And at five, the pile on her right was never any smaller.
Something inside of her had shifted, and Grace couldn’t quite put her finger on what.
She opened the folder she’d been working on before being pulled away the night before and dug in. Luckily today was a field day. She’d be out of the office for several hours, giving her the space she needed away from her boss. Only a couple more office days, then the holiday party, and short work weeks for the rest of the year.
Her office phone rang, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Grace Hudson,” she answered.
Dameon.
Just the sound of his voice lifted her mood. “Good morning,” she chimed back.
“I thought a call would be better than texting your work cell.”
“That’s probably wise.”
“You’ll let me know as soon as you replace it?” he asked.
“I will.”
“Good. That way I can text you something completely sappy about how much I enjoyed last night. Not the reason it happened, but how it ended up.”
She lowered her voice, not that anyone could hear with the closed door. “I really can’t talk about it here,” she told him.
“I completely understand. I wanted to let you know that I’m back in the city. But if you need me, I can get up there in thirty minutes.”
“And when in the history of LA traffic does it only take thirty minutes to get here from downtown?” She had to laugh.
“Okay, thirty-five.”
She snorted.
“I’ll be back Friday.”
The holiday party. The thought of him resting his hand on her back or repeating his kiss with someone from her office seeing them ran in her head. “About the party. We can’t . . . I mean it’s not a good idea for us to be too . . . familiar with each other.”
“I understand discretion.”
“Thank you.”
“I have a phone number for you,” he said.
“Whose?”
“Mine, at the San Francisquito house. The cell service out there is awful.”
She laughed. “I could have told you that.”
“Something that’s worth looking into with the project.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
He told her the number and she jotted it down.
“I’ll let you get back to work.”
“See you Friday,” she said.
“I look forward to it.”
They said their goodbyes and hung up.
Soon the sound of the clock ticking reminded her to get out of her daydream and get back to work.
Some things were just more trouble than they were worth. And keeping his office open and expecting any real work to get done between Christmas and the New Year was one of them. Half of his staff went out of town to visit family, and the other half had family visiting. His office party was set up for Saturday and then the doors would be shut until January second. It was an expense his accountant advised him against when he’d first opened the doors. But his employee satisfaction and retention was significantly better than the next guy’s, and that saved him money in the long run.
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