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

by Alexis Alvarez

  Marty hands me the dossier. “Here.”

  “Okay.” I scan it. “What about the code violations? Anything else besides the original complaints from before?”

  He points me to another page. “Opposite of what you expected. Delays in two builds because your Danton insisted on redoing some work that had been already completed before he came into position.”

  “What work?” I frown, reading. “Electrical wiring again?”

  “Yeah. Looks like it was actually not a violation but he wanted it improved. Big issues with the board after that, and with his cousin Art.”

  “Hmmm. Interesting.” I’m not sure what to think about that. “So why would he want to make things better if he’s a scammy slimeball?”

  “Maybe he’s not.” Marty shrugs. “Why do you think he’s a slimeball, Tally?”

  I glower. “He is rude and annoying and he tricked me. Lied to me about being CEO. And he doesn’t care about the environment. If his uncle’s a jerk, I’m sure he’s not too different.”

  “Well, this is what I found. Zero evidence of any illegal dumping of any kind, by the way. In fact, since your Dane came on board, he’s increased safety training protocols and classes.” Marty gulps his coffee. “And if you’re inclined to want to help me out with anything, I’m looking for someone to house-sit for Dolores while I’m visiting Easter Island.”

  “You’re what?”

  “I’ve always wanted to go there.” He smiles. “But I don’t think they allow parrots in the carry on.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “I’d... love... to pet sit. For Dolores.” I shudder. “That sounds utterly delightful.”

  “It’s not for a few months.” He smiles. “I’ll call you.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Talia

  “Excellent!” Mark is enthused. “Talia, you’re golden. I tell you, golden.”

  “I am?” I look at him, wary. “In what ways am I golden?”

  “We’re back on cranes, and we’re going big time!”

  “I don’t follow.” I blink at him.

  “Your article. A few days ago, I forwarded it to Manda Shine’s people, and told her about the plight of the crane. And guess what?”

  “What?” I say automatically.

  “She’s interested. Actually going to work with us!” Mark is incandescent with joy. He’s nearly floating. He rubs his hands together and it makes him look like a cartoon villain. “She’s calling tomorrow morning with her rep, and they're going to talk to us about getting involved.”

  “Like, how involved?” This can’t be right. He’s hallucinating, clearly.

  “Well, for one thing, protesting on a grander scale. National attention.” He licks his lips. “This is just so amazing.” His voice is reverent.

  “Wow. I… just... wow.” I blink. “Seriously?”

  “So if it all works out the way I want, she can arrange to fly in some supporters for a protest and she has a contact for an LA-based TV station who will fly out too, to cover it. Just think of the attention we’ll get! I mean, the attention we’ll bring to the crane.” He coughs. “It’s a dream come true.”

  “That’s great, Mark. Where would they protest?”

  “Oh, we’ll figure that out. Somewhere with a lot of space so she can include footage in her pop-up video. Can you believe it? We’ll be featured in her weekly life-stream!”

  “I find it hard to believe.” I blink.

  “Well, it’s happening. So I’m going to need you to tell me everything you know about the Danton Carter Corporation. And I’ll probably need some crane graphics as well, to show her. I’ll tell you what I want in Photoshop.” He clears his throat.

  “Okay. But what about the other option for the birds?”

  “What other option?” He wrinkles his nose.

  “Remember, a few weeks ago, I asked if we could move the birds? You said you’d talk to your contacts in the birding world and see if that’s even feasible.”

  “Oh… that. Yes.” He clears his throat and bites his lip.

  “Well?”

  “So it’s not. Possible. I talked to the best company who does bird relo in DC. I told them all about the crane and the habitat, and sent them all the data you’ve compiled. They said it would be super expensive and that these cranes would probably not take well to being moved, might get sick or go into shock. Die. So, not really an option. Plus, really, REALLY expensive to even consider. I’m talking high six figures. We could never raise that much on such short notice. At least, not without the publicity that comes with the protest.”

  “Oh.” I sit down, deflated. “I just thought…” I bite my lip. “Could Manda pay for it?”

  “I’m not asking her for money right now.” He puts a hand to his chest. “I don’t want to scare her away. She’s into the protest. Let’s take things one step at a time, Talia.”

  “I just hoped that we could move them.”

  “It was a good idea, Talia.”’ He looks at me and smiles. “You’re always thinking. But right now, this protest with Manda is really our best chance to save the birds. So I need you on board.”

  “Okay. I’m here to help.”

  I’m not sure I like the gleam in his eye, or the mania in his voice. But after all, this is what he’s been talking about since I started—getting a celebrity endorsement to help spread news about the crane’s plight.

  And since Dane isn’t offering to do anything else, this might be our only option.

  ***

  “Talia. I need you to do a follow-up on the Danton article.” Another week has passed, and I’m trying to focus on life. Work. Wondering about Dane, why he made the choices he did. Still angry, but trying to figure things out in my mind.

  I jerk my head. “Why?”

  “It’s trending.” Janice clicks into my space, smiling. “You called it. I bow to your insightful intellect.” She does a small dip of her head and gestures to my screen.

  “Huh.” I put down my coffee and pull up the internal charts.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t come to me already with the follow-up in hand.” She smiles, but raises an eyebrow. “You’re usually all over the stats.”

  “A follow-up could bump our ratings higher if we take advantage of the reader frenzy,” I say automatically, scanning the graph. “This is a big spike.”

  “So, do it.” She claps her hands together once, without sound, and it’s both graceful and sort of dominant. “By tomorrow, so we can hit the mid-week slump hard and push readership.”

  “All right.” I am aware that my voice holds less than my usual enthusiasm.

  “Make sure you get over to his office for a personal interview with the CEO.”

  “He’s not available.” At her expressions, I add, “I could go to the city council zoning meeting tonight, though and talk to the interim CEO. He doesn’t like me, but I can waylay him.” I sigh.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Fine. I’ll send the article over as soon as I’m done. It’s my top priority.” I give her a smile and half turn to my desk, indicating that I’m ready to work, but with the respect of not turning my back on my superior.

  She nods. “Thanks.” And she’s off.

  To do due diligence, I’m going to need to talk to Dane and get more information. Our paper is known for being fair and balanced. I asked some questions in my last article... now it’s time to provide answers. Find out what good will come from the building project. Jobs. Environmental growth. Things like that. Even if I’m personally not happy with Danton Carter Construction, I need to find out why the city council feels otherwise.

  ***

  “Talia.” Councilmember Aaron Burke puts out his hand and takes mine, his grip overly aggressive, like always. I press back hard, and this time I squeeze extra so he’s the one who winces and pulls back.

  “Good to see you, as always. On a little digging expedition?” He grins. “You know we always love seeing you here at our city council meetings.” He’s stocky lik
e Michael Boyd, in his sixties, with small beady eyes.

  I can tell he’s dying to call me ‘hon’ or ‘babe.’ But he holds back. Partly because I can fucking grip his hand like a vise. Partly because I glare at him like I could take him down with one swift kick. Maybe because he’s just barely smart enough to know that in this era of #MeToo, his tactics are a dying species, especially as a city council member. He doesn't like it, though. I can see that in his little passive-aggressive comments. He’s got a lot of rage bottled up.

  “Whenever there’s a body, I’ve got a shovel. You hide any bodies lately, Arie?” I use his nickname, the one he doesn’t like. I feel gratified when his stance tenses up.

  My blood pressure is up, too. Although it’s a rush to win a shit battle, it’s not the kind of glory that bathes you in a warm golden glow. It’s more of a junkie high, one that fades fast into jitters and tears.

  But for now, this is what I need to do, so I stand tall. Look around. The city council meeting, open to the public, is sparsely attended. Most people here limit their civic duty to voting once every four years. The only time there was a crowd in one of these meetings was when the casino project was introduced last year.

  Aaron turns. “Michael Boyd! Come on in.”

  The two men embrace, a bro hug, leaning in with hearty back slaps and laughs.

  “This is going to be a good one.” Michael looks at me. “And of course it wouldn’t be complete without our very own papergirl. Good to see you again.”

  The day is coming when these patronizing, archaic fossils will be out. Until then, I need to persevere. Fossils can be hardened into stone and last for centuries. With the right treatment, they can dissolve. Leave room for new life to grow. There’s a woman I like who’s running for council member next term.

  “Indeed.” I shake his hand, too. “Where’s the man of the hour?”

  I’m ready to see Dane. Maybe not emotionally, but I’ve prepared and I have my questions ready.

  “Hold your horses.” Michael laughs. “I’m sure you can wait a few hours, right, Talia?” He turns to Aaron and does a sotto voce behind his hand. “Caught the two of them snuggling up at a romantic date.”

  My face burns. “Funny, because the things you said were all about getting him into your bed.” I smile and pull up my phone. “Excuse me.”

  He mutters something under his breath; I think it might sound like fucking cunt but I’m walking away so I don’t hear it clearly. I don’t need to hear that right now. Deep breaths.

  And then Dane is here, an assistant with him, both of them holding an armful of papers. A tablet. Hand-outs. My heart leaps into my chest despite my best intentions, because he’s so handsome, and because being near him—even though I currently hate him—sets my nerve endings on fire.

  He notices me and nods, but doesn’t speak. His mouth tightens. “Thanks for giving me time tonight,” he says, looking around the room. He shakes hands, greets people.

  Eventually Aaron steps up to the front of the table. “Gentlemen,” he smirks at me. “As chairperson of the board, I’d like to welcome you all. Let’s get started. Let the record show that we are starting the city council meeting as of 7:30 pm. Our agenda, which was published online and is open to the public, includes a vote on the zoning for the downtown rejuvenation project, and an update from Danton Construction on their bid proposal for that site.”

  Seats fill, some of them creaking. The furniture here is old and worn.

  Aaron turns. “I’d like to introduce Danton Carter Junior, who’s the CEO of Danton Construction while his uncle is out on medical leave.” He clears his throat. “He’s here tonight to show us the proposal for a future worksite and building project that can bring over 200 jobs to the town temporarily and over fifty permanent jobs.”

  The room’s not big, but voices rise.

  “Let’s give the floor to Danton. Take it away.” Aaron waves his hand.

  “Thank you.” Dane’s voice is confident. “Aaron said it well. The project will bring over fifty permanent jobs.”

  He pulls up a PowerPoint presentation on the screen, and I lean in.

  As he talks, I bite my lip. This project, based in the failing section of downtown Mapleton, looks good. Really good. First of all, it’s not endangering any birds or animals. Second, it could revitalize a part of the community.

  “—inject life and revitalize the economics of the area by giving the residents a place to meet and, better, find employment.”

  It’s a redo of the main street strip—with restaurants, shops, and a gathering place. A little open area with seating and fountains, trees. Spots for public art.

  The councilmembers lean in, clearly interested.

  But Michael Boyd pulls off his glasses. Bites the end of them, as if thinking hard. “So... this is intriguing. Definitely compares well to other requests the city has received.” His smile is unctuous.

  “It brings in more jobs,” Aaron points out. “Almost twice as many as some other proposals for the same space usage.”

  “With a stronger long-term positive impact,” adds a woman from the front.

  “Definitely something to consider.” Michael gives Dane a long look.

  I sense the undercurrents. I don't like where I think they’re leading. I remember how Michael insinuated things about supporting him for his city council run when he talked to Dane that night at the sushi restaurant. And although I’m nowhere near happy that Dane’s lied to me, and that his project is ongoing in the woods, I despise Michael and his slimy tactics.

  “Who are you?” Aaron turns to the woman.

  She adjusts her glasses. “I’m Millie Farwell.” She smiles and steps forward. “Former school teacher. Going to run for council next term.” She’s in her fifties, and I like her face; it seems honest, open. Her hair is short and silver, and she’s dressed in a way that’s both stylish and comfortable.

  Now the rumble in the room gets louder.

  “It’s not an easy job.” Michael scoffs.

  The woman meets his gaze. “Not if it’s done well,” she agrees, her voice mild but firm.

  Michael does not seem pleased enough with this reply to answer. He opens his mouth, shuts it.

  “I’m here to listen and learn.” Millie sits down. “And offer ideas, where I see fit, as should any concerned citizen.”

  “We do have rules for citizen participation.” Michael sounds sulky.

  “Oh, absolutely.” Millie opens her case and pulls out a sheaf of papers. She licks her forefinger, and tabs through them. “Let me see... yes, here it is. Bylaw 1-7. Should I read it aloud?”

  “There’s no need.” Aaron steps forward, frowning at Michael. “Listen, we’re wasting time. The point is that we need to make a decision on zoning the downtown area for mixed commercial use in plot A45-6C. Vote?”

  “Well, I think the zoning itself is unanimous,” drawls Michael, shooting a look at Dane. “The question now is which firm to pick. And I certainly don’t feel sure about which one is best. For the city.” He coughs. “I suggest we take a week or two to think, a few weeks, and meet again next month to make a final decision.”

  “Vote now though, just for the record, to get it officially on paper.” Aaron looks around the room. “Zoning for a downtown project, yes or no?”

  As the process unfolds, and the zoning itself is approved, I sneak glances at Dane’s face. He’s got an even expression, but his hands don’t look relaxed. His eyes are tired, with lines around them. I long to trace them with my fingers. I also want to punch him in that sexy mouth. Ugh.

  Aaron smiles. “No promises, Danton, but your work is well done. Very impressive.”

  “One thing”—Michael clears his throat—“I’d like to point out.”

  The others look over.

  “As it turns out, our very own Talia”—he gestures at me—“has written that there are some concerns with Danton’s… ah... ethical practices. Regarding wildlife. Competitors don’t have that. Also, older alleg
ations about substandard wirings.”

  “I can assure you”—Dane’s voice rings out—“we have fully complied with all local and federal laws and have met all EPA guidelines. We are fully within all applicable practices. And may I remind you about how many jobs we’ve brought in. I have provided, and will show again, our records for all of our materials which have been one hundred percent audited.”

  “The project has slipped once,” points out Michael. “And rumors are that it will slip again. Projections from”—he looks at his phone—“other potential firms we could hire, show that they’ve completed projects on time. And Danton’s last project, in Baltimore, was delayed by over four months.” He raises his brows. “Not a good trend.”

  Aaron furrows his brow, shakes his head. “Michael we talked about—”

  Michael puts up his hands. “I’m just saying. And when I’m senator”—he chuckles and slaps his meaty thigh—“I’m going to have to do what the people want. And right now I believe the people want me to stay on top of ethical behavior for all contractors in our town. After all, quality and ethics... the two backbones of my campaign.” He smiles.

  “We’ll keep an eye on it.” Aaron narrows his eyes, like he isn’t pleased, and turns to Dane. “You keep the current project on track, keep things quiet, and everything’s looking good.”

  Nods. The topic goes away. But I’m not sure I care for the look on Michael’s face.

  After the meeting, I go up to Dane. “I’d like a few minutes of your time.” My voice is stiff and formal. “I’d like to ask you a few questions about the project. I’m informing you that I’m writing a balanced follow-up article, and I’d like your feedback on some things that happened here tonight.”

  “Five minutes.” He points to the door. “In private.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Talia

  We walk out the front door and stand near the folding table. I reach down and touch the gritty nubbled plastic surface. It’s sticky with humidity; the AC doesn't reach here to the lobby. My face is instantly moist.