I Broke Into His Office (Love at First Crime Book 4)

by Jessica Frances

  “Nix,” Harvey says softly as he looms over the bar, standing taller, probably using the foot bar.

  “Yes?” I ask, just as Harvey grabs my shirt and pulls me forward, kissing me deeply but far too quickly for my liking. “Stop worrying so much.” He then drops some bills on the bar before swinging back to put his jacket on.

  I start to protest, wanting him to know he doesn’t need to pay me for a beer and sandwich, and judging by the bills he left, he doesn’t need to overpay for it, either. However, he’s already turning around, and I decide to leave it alone for now.

  “Keep warm and stay safe!” I call out, sounding embarrassingly like a mother hen.

  He looks over his shoulder, smiling at me, and my heart stops beating altogether as I try to take in just how hot Harvey is.

  How the fuck did I get so lucky?

  “I’ll see you tonight. Call me if you need me.” With that, he steps out into the cold, huddling into his jacket as he dashes off and I lose sight of him.

  “Who needs photos when you can see the real thing in person?” Scarlett says, fanning her face with both hands.

  I roll my eyes at her, but nothing can diminish the red flush over my cheeks.

  “You guys could sell tickets,” she continues.

  “Is there a reason you’re over here?”

  “Yeah, some guy over there is asking for you.”

  I glance over to see Donny sitting at a table by the window, his eyes on me. Now my heart stops beating for a completely different reason.

  I get the feeling this is going to be another long day.

  Chapter 12

  “Has he been here long?” I ask Scarlett.

  “Yeah, like ten minutes or so.”

  I’m not sure what to make of that. It’s unlikely he heard what Harvey said, but he definitely would have gotten an eyeful of our kiss.

  “Thanks. Can you cover the bar for a few?”

  “Sure.” She sounds wary now. I know she’s picking up on my hesitant mood.

  I make my way over to Donny, removing my apron along the way.

  “Donny, what are you doing here?” I whisper when I get to him, even though there is no reason to.

  “Thought I’d check the place out. You’ve done a good job here,” he grounds out, sounding anything but praising.

  “Thanks,” I reply, not at all sincere. “I’m not sure this is a good time.” Or any time, for that matter.

  “Worried your boyfriend will get jealous?” He looks disgusted. It shocks me to see how much his hatred reminds me of Dad. Even the way he sits is just like Dad—legs splayed wide, spine straight, arm leaning on the chair beside him. It’s eerie how alike they have become. He really is the son I never was.

  “Jealous of what?” I ask genuinely, which seems to put him more on edge.

  “We got a meeting to get to.”

  “What? Now?”

  “Yeah.”

  I glance around, my blood pressure already going through the roof as my stress levels skyrocket.

  “Don’t worry; this isn’t far, and we won’t be long.”

  “Who are we meeting?” I ask, wrapping my arms in front of me like I’m nervous, when I’m really tapping my watch so it transmits.

  “Good try. Come on; I’ll have you back within an hour.”

  I want to grumble at him that I don’t have an hour. I have a restaurant to run. Leaving for an hour or an entire night does not fit in with that. But, what’s the point? Donny isn’t going to care, and I’m still going to have to do this.

  “Hang on.”

  I don’t wait around to see if this is okay. I just head over to Scarlett and tell her to cover me.

  She doesn’t seem pleased, glaring daggers at me, which I can feel the entire time I head back to Donny. She probably thinks I’m playing Harvey or something.

  “Leave your phone here,” he instructs.

  I only just resist snapping at him in annoyance as I make my way back into my office so I can leave my phone in the drawer.

  I ride in the passenger seat while Donny drives to wherever we are going. No bodyguard goons with us this time.

  I’m not sure if that should be reassuring or not.

  “You remember that time we stole candy from the convenience store?” Donny asks out of the blue, pointing toward a shop we pass that I haven’t been into since the day he’s talking about.

  “Yeah, that was awful.”

  “It was fucking hilarious,” he counters. “You were so stressed you vomited everywhere.”

  “Vomiting has never really been a fun time for me,” I say dryly, my eyes scrolling over the fast-moving scenery, speculating over where we are heading. Donny said we wouldn’t be long, but we have already been driving almost twenty minutes.

  “The look on your face when I shoved that candy in your pocket was priceless,” he continues, his laugh grating on my stressed nerves.

  “Where are we going, Donny?” I ask, hoping Harvey is somewhere behind us.

  “You’ll see.” He brushes me off. “Remember when we tried to make grilled sandwiches at your place? Burned the shit out of them.” Donny laughs again.

  I glance over to watch him, questioning why he’s so intent on reliving our past.

  “Yeah, Dad got so angry about it that he slapped my mom,” I snap, and am satisfied when his smile dims.

  “I didn’t know he did that,” he says quietly, his gaze moving to me for a moment before he looks back at the road.

  “You didn’t know a lot of things. You had your own shit going on at home. That doesn’t mean my life was fucking roses,” I grumble, crossing my arms as I glare out the front.

  Donny may think many of our memories together were fun, but for me, most are shrouded in misery and anxiety.

  Donny doesn’t respond, and the last few minutes of our drive are done in silence.

  By the time we pull into Northwestern Memorial Hospital parking lot, I’m beyond curious about what we are doing here.

  As we park toward the back, I fear this meeting is going to unfortunately happen outside in the sub-degree weather. But, instead of getting out, we just sit and wait.

  Donny rests his head against his headrest, closing his eyes like he has all the time in the world.

  “What’s going on? Why are we here?”

  “We’re waiting on someone,” he answers, not opening his eyes.

  “Who?”

  Donny turns his head and stares at me while raising his eyebrow.

  I sigh. “How long is this going to be? How many more times do I have to drop everything to follow the whim of my father?”

  “You should be grateful to your dad. He saved your ass more times than you can count. Do you know how scared people are of him? You think it’s just a coincidence you’ve seen zero crime in or around your restaurant? He takes care of you.”

  I snort, unable to help myself. “Actually, rumor has it there was a gay bashing outside my restaurant just the other day.”

  “Come on; you know what I’m saying.”

  “If I’ve had any protection from Dad, then it has been purely a byproduct of being his son. He hasn’t done a single thing to keep me safe. People just assume he would be angry if they came after me, but we both know he couldn’t care less.”

  “You’re wrong,” Donny tells me, shaking his head like he thinks I’m clueless.

  I’m not. I know I’m not. It’s Donny who has the blinders on when it comes to my dad.

  “Do I seriously need to be here?” I finally ask when a few minutes pass with nothing happening.

  “Not really.”

  “What?” I growl, not only shocked that he answered honestly, but furious that he took me away from my life for no reason.

  “This one could have been done without you,” he shamelessly admits.

  “Then why the hell am I here?” I’m screeching, but I can’t help it. I’m furious.

  I don’t even know what the hell I should do. Should I just get out and lea
ve? I don’t have my phone with me, but Harvey will be close by. If I talk into my watch, then he will know where to meet me.

  “You’re here because I want you to be.”

  What the hell does that mean? Do I even want to know?

  “Look, Donny, I don’t know what your game is, but—”

  “I have no game here,” he cuts me off, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. He lowers his voice to sound more like he is mumbling to himself when he says, “At least, not when it comes to you.”

  “Then what are you doing? Why am I here?” I demand, fisting my hands in my lap.

  “I miss you!” he snaps, his own frustrations bubbling to the surface.

  “What do you miss, exactly? We were friends once, for sure, but we haven’t been close for a long time. By the end of our friendship, you weren’t coming to the house to see me. You were coming to see my father.”

  “That was a mistake.” He reaches out to touch my arm, but I pull out of his grip, knocking into the door.

  “A mistake?”

  “Look,” he says after taking a deep breath, “I appreciate everything your father has done for me. You remember what my family was like. You guys were my family.”

  “So, I guess it made sense to fuck off once Dad basically disowned me. You took his side,” I accuse, not that I have any idea why I’m arguing this. I was angry and hurt at the time, but I moved on. I threw myself into my work and now have a successful restaurant to show for it.

  Judging by how Donny has turned out—still close with my father and deep into his crime world—our parting was very much for the best.

  “What else was I supposed to do?” Donny yells. “I was in too deep by then. Your father was my boss, and I had responsibilities. I couldn’t throw it all away because you got your feelings hurt.”

  “Fuck you,” I seethe, grabbing the door handle, ready to bolt. “I needed my friend, and you proved to me you weren’t that.”

  “I was a sixteen-year-old asshole when you came out. I wasn’t expecting it. I knew you swung that way—hell, you used to watch me more than the porn we watched together when we jacked off,” he says with a smirk before his lips drop back into a scowl. “It wasn’t a surprise, and I had no issue with it. But I wasn’t fucking expecting you to out yourself to your dad. He made homophobic comments constantly. How the fuck did you think he was going to take it?” Donny shouts, slamming his fist into his own door, his breathing coming out in fast pants.

  I try to not think about our old masturbating rituals. However, from his tone and the memories it stirs, I recall many times when we would find ourselves watching porn in our later teenage years. Donny usually bought something over, and I never questioned where he got it.

  I did used to watch him stroking his own dick more than what was happening on the screen, but I also recall Donny’s eyes often straying to me.

  Was that just normal teenage boy curiosity? Or something more?

  An uneasy feeling settles inside me. I pull on the door handle, only to find the door locked.

  “Donny, let me out. I don’t need to be here, and I’m not interested in this stroll down memory lane.”

  Donny isn’t listening. His mind is elsewhere.

  “I could have killed you when you blurted out you were into dick to Angus. What the fuck were you thinking?” he demands, pulling me away from my annoyance over being locked in here with him.

  “I was thinking that I knew he was going to be mad. I was counting on it. I’ve hated my father my entire life. And just the same, he hated me. I was a disappointment to him long before I came out. That was just the cherry on top. I came out because I couldn’t give a shit what he thought of me at that point, and I knew it would nag at him. I knew it would drive him crazy. I knew it would make him feel powerless. My sexuality isn’t something he can control.”

  “He could have killed you,” Donny hisses.

  Looking back now, I know it was reckless and dangerous. Dad had smacked me around when I told him. It was the first time he had laid a finger on me in years. But his visible anger soon moved behind his blank wall where he hides all his emotions behind. Other than crude and offensive comments every once in a while when I had to be in his presence, I was ignored.

  It was cocky of me to think I would be safe, but it felt fucking awesome to cut him down like I did that day.

  “Yeah, well, it’s done. And you not sticking up for me is done, too. We’re not friends, Donny. And whatever it is you want or are hoping for, get it out of your head,” I snap. “Now, let me out of this fucking car.”

  Donny turns his head, grabbing my arm tightly enough that I can’t shake off his grip. “This is because of that investigator asshole, right? You think you’re in love with him?” he accuses, spittle flying from his mouth.

  “Shit, Donny. Why are we talking about this? None of this is your business! Are we even meeting anyone here? Or is this some weird hangout spot you were hoping we’d reminisce over shit times and become friends again?”

  Just as I ask this, someone taps on the backdoor window behind me.

  I twist around, half-expecting it to be Harvey, who is likely listening to every word being spoken.

  What is he making of this discussion? Is he angry I’m stuck here, or bored out of his mind? None of this is useful in terms of getting my father to back down.

  When Donny presses a button by his armrest and the back door unlocks, a man jumps into the car then slams the door shut, but not before the arctic wind billows inside and chills me to the bone.

  “Is it done?” the man asks, rubbing his hands together to warm them up.

  “Depends,” Donny growls, his gaze remaining forward, though he does glance at him through the mirror. “You ready to make a commitment to the offer?”

  The man looks nervous. More than that, he looks defeated.

  He nods, but Donny, ever the asshole, doesn’t accept.

  “Need to hear you say it, man.”

  “Yes, I’ll do it,” the man barks, an air of desperation about him.

  “Good.” Donny grabs his phone, presses a few buttons, and then he turns around to show the screen to the man. “Anonymous donation made to the hospital to cover your wife’s bill. After the job is done, you will get the rest.”

  The man visually sags in the seat. I see the relief hit him like a strong wind knocking him back.

  “Thank you.”

  “Get out. And remember, you say anything to anyone and your wife is dead.”

  The man flinches before nodding vigorously. Then he jumps out of the car and slams the door so hard the car shakes, or maybe the wind does that. Either way, I feel sick.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough. Wanna go somewhere?” he asks casually, as if whatever the fuck just happened, which involved threatening that man’s wife, isn’t a big deal.

  “Yes, back to my restaurant, where I want you to leave me the fuck alone. If my father insists I be somewhere for a meeting, then I’ll do it. Whatever the fuck this was, I won’t do. We’re not friends, Donny. Nothing is going to change that.”

  “You’re a fucking stubborn bastard,” Donny says with a damn smile on his lips. Evidently, this meeting being over has put him in a good mood.

  “And you’re a fucking psycho.”

  He doesn’t respond to that, or maybe he’s done listening to me. Whatever the case, he takes me back to the restaurant.

  I hope this is the last time I will have to see him for a while, but then his parting comment that he will see me soon deflates that hope.

  I’m simmering with anger as I enter through the back of The Daily, checking over the closed-up kitchen as I pass. All the chefs have gone home, and everything looks to be clean and put away.

  Out in the restaurant, there are a couple dawdling customers, slow to pay their bills and exit. Nothing appears to be in jeopardy, though.

  At least that’s something.

  I eye the bar,
incredibly tempted to grab a bottle and try to drown my day at the bottom of it, but I don’t have the luxury of checking out early.

  “Where the hell did you go?” Scarlett hisses at me, siding up beside me and knocking my shoulder with hers.

  “Nowhere worth mentioning. How did the rest of lunch go?” I try to sound bored, but I’m still annoyed and frustrated.

  Why do I get the feeling this is going to continue for a lot longer than I first imagined? How long can I stand to do this before I mess up? How long will Harvey’s life be dangled as bait before they act on it?

  Shit, what the fuck has my life become?

  “What do you mean nowhere worth mentioning? If it was worth leaving this place in the middle of your shift, then it’s worth fucking mentioning. Who the hell was that guy? He couldn’t stop staring at your ass, so I’m thinking he wasn’t just a friend or whatever. What happened to you being with Harvey?”

  I try to ignore the part where she mentioned Donny staring at my ass, not willing to analyze what that means or see the obvious in what it likely means, and move on to what is really important here.

  “I know we’re sort of friends—”

  “Sort of friends?” she gasps.

  “—but I’m not getting into this with you. That guy was from my past. We were friends once. He’s not a good guy, and if you see him in the future, don’t approach him; just come and find me. Got it?”

  She looks surprised, but not exactly agreeable.

  “Look,” I forge on, “what happened today might not be a one-time thing. There are some things I have to do that are time-sensitive, and I don’t get notice on when it’s happening. So, if you could cut me some slack about this, I would appreciate it. I don’t need more shit piling down on me over this, understand?”

  She eyes me worriedly now, her gaze piercing as she no doubts tries to figure out the best way to tell me to fuck off, and that there is no way in hell she’s cutting me a break, but she surprises me.

  “Fine, I’ll give you this. But we are friends, and you better not be spurting shit like we’re not again. That said, if you need me, I’m here for you. You need me to work extra, leave me alone here, or just someone to talk to, I’m your girl.”