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 what 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