Disavowed

by Tee O'Fallon

  The door to the apartment building flew open, and Jack came barreling down the stairs. Once on the sidewalk, he kicked a nearby garbage can, sending it rolling down the street. Before getting into his BMW, he slammed his fist on top of the roof. Then he got into the car, gunned it down the block, tires screeching, and disappeared around the corner.

  “Well, damn.” Dom grinned. The sonofabitch didn’t get any. He exhaled a relieved breath, though part of him wondered about the pent-up anger Jack had just unleashed on that garbage can. If he ever made the mistake of touching Daisy with that anger, Dom would kill him in a heartbeat.

  A dark SUV blew past him, barreling up to the traffic light, then making an illegal left on red in the same direction Jack had gone. “Bastard’s gonna kill someone,” he grumbled as he punched in Gray’s number on his cell phone.

  Gray answered on the second ring. “Hey, buddy.”

  Even though it was eleven o’clock on a Friday night, his partner sounded downright cheerful.

  “You’re chipper.” He guessed Alex had given him the happy news, but he didn’t want to give it up that he’d eavesdropped on Daisy and knew before Gray did.

  “I am. I’m pregnant. I mean, we’re pregnant. Alex is. Fuck, I’m going to be a father.”

  He shook his head at his friend’s inability to speak coherently. “You sound like a dork.”

  Gray snorted. “Hormones.”

  “Seriously, congrats.” Dom couldn’t keep from smiling. He could hear the joy in Gray’s voice. “How’s Nicky taking the news?”

  “The little guy can’t wait to have a baby sister or brother he can boss around.” Dom heard a door shut in the background, indicating Gray had just gone into his office. “Got an update?”

  “And then some.” He described how Smith would probably smuggle the weapons inside a Magellan Foods box, but neither he nor Jack had any idea when or where they’d be stashed.

  “Shit,” Gray said. “We’re getting bits and pieces here, but nothing concrete we can make a move on.”

  “Copy that. I’m running blind on this one.” Considering he was now an operative for the Pyramid, he was not only lacking critical information but he’d been forced into a reactionary role, not a proactive one as he’d anticipated. “Smith is behind this. The guy’s an asshole, but he’s smart. He doesn’t even trust Jack. Worse, I’ve got no info on him for you to run. No real name, no identifiers, not even a personal vehicle for the surveillance teams to tail. Surveillance never caught him leaving the Magellan Foods warehouse, but they’re still watching the place in case he gets into a truck. I’ll try to get a photo of him or prints. I guarantee he’s in a database somewhere.”

  “You’ll figure this out. Be patient.”

  “Patience hell.” He scrubbed his jaw. “Did you find out if the commissioner is attending the opening?”

  “He’s not, and he never planned to,” Gray said. “Those invitations went out a month ago, and he immediately declined due to a schedule conflict. That information was made public.”

  “Then it eliminates the PC as the target. The opening is this Sunday, and we’re running out of time.” He blew out a breath. “You got any good news for me?”

  “I hear your little friend is enjoying his all-expenses paid vacation in the Bahamas.” Gray chuckled. “Jimmy Gonzalez is racking up quite a pina colada bill, but at least he’s checking in every other day as instructed.”

  “So long as he stays down there I don’t care how big his cocktail tab is.”

  “Anything else?” Gray asked.

  Dom yawned. “Negative.” Except he needed sleep soon or he’d drop like a rock.

  “How’s Daisy?”

  He started the Explorer, then pulled onto the street. “I’m keeping an eye on her.”

  “I’ll bet you are.”

  “Bite me.” Just before he ended the call, Gray’s laughter came through loud and clear.

  At the intersection, Dom braked for a red light. Tomorrow was Saturday, and they were all working at the shop. He needed to get more information out of Jack.

  The light turned green, and he proceeded west in the direction of his loft. He had to figure out who the target of this hit was. And fast. Without that critical piece of intel it would be nearly impossible to prevent the target from being taken down. And then there was Smith. Didn’t have to be a detective to know the guy was seriously bad news. The bastard’s temper seemed to be constantly lit, just waiting for something to set him off. He had no doubt both Smith and Jack would pull the trigger on anyone if ordered by the voice on the phone.

  The voice on the phone.

  He slowed at the entrance to his building’s underground parking garage. Dismantling the Pyramid would be a helluva lot easier if he could prove who was running the organization. He thought he knew the identity of the boss, but the voice on the phone threw him. Even his D.C. contact had no current intel on Marsden, nothing he could use to back up his theory.

  Minutes later, he parked the car and let himself inside his loft. He grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, then went to his office and powered up the bank of computers and monitors. While he waited, he took a long slug from the bottle.

  Jack had said this job was personal for the boss, so the key was in finding out exactly what that personal connection was. When the first computer came fully online, he set the beer down, and for the next two hours ran search after search on Colonel Bud Marsden. But nothing screamed out at him as to why New York City, the Piazza, or any link to the numerous high-level politicians and celebrities attending the hotel’s grand reopening.

  To all outward appearances, the man disappeared in Afghanistan sixteen years ago and was never heard from again. He was single, never married, no apparent family ties to anyone, and the man’s bank accounts were never accessed.

  He tapped his fingers on the desk, annoyed that he couldn’t hone in on the personal link driving this operation. Before shutting down for the night, he sent another encrypted email to his D.C. contact. Probably a waste of time, but since he was shit outta luck on everything else, what the hell?

  After falling into bed, his last thought before drifting off was about Daisy and what her mood would be like tomorrow.

  Fuck that.

  Just because Jack hadn’t spent the night at her place didn’t mean they hadn’t made plans for a second date. He yanked the pillow from beneath his head and threw it against the wall. It was obvious Jack was pissed when he’d left Daisy’s apartment, but if the two of them were all over each other tomorrow, he didn’t know if he could handle it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As she walked the two blocks between her favorite café and the shop, Daisy found herself glancing over her shoulder more than once. It had become a habit since that morning when she could swear she was being watched. Since then, the feeling had come over her several times, but whenever she turned around there was no one there.

  Shake it off. You’ve got enough to worry about as it is. Like seeing Jack again after last night. When he’d left her place he’d been angry, but she’d needed to take things slowly.

  Even in three-inch heels she managed to balance the tray carrying four cups of coffee in one hand and open the door without spilling a drop. The overhead bell jangled as she stepped inside, and she expected to be greeted by Marjie, but the front of the shop was empty.

  She noted the twenty or so centerpiece arrangements destined for the Piazza’s ballroom covered every surface in the shop. From the looks of them, Marjie had done an outstanding job making them precisely to Daisy’s design specifications. So much had gone into the selection of flowers and vases. Pale peach roses, white delphiniums, and magnolias made a lovely creamy palette. As soon as she put the finishing touches on them they’d be ready for delivery.

  “Marjie?” When no one answered, she frowned. While it was too early for regular customers, the bell should have sent Marjie to the front of the shop to check anyway.

  She set the tray of coffees onto t
he display counter, then stopped by her office to hang up her trench coat and shoulder bag. Voices and a woman’s laughter drifted into the office from the storeroom, and she headed down the hallway to investigate.

  Marjie leaned her shoulder against the doorway as she watched Dom and Jack heft spare granite planters off to the side.

  “What are you doing out here?” Daisy whispered. The older woman had always told her the dusty storeroom made her sneeze.

  Marjie winked, whispering back, “Enjoying the man candy.”

  “Ahh.” She smiled, pausing to take in the view herself.

  Both men wore jeans, work boots, and snug knit shirts with the sleeves shoved to their elbows. Jack’s shirt was black, while Dom’s was navy blue. But it was Dom’s physique that drew Daisy’s attention. His thick forearm muscles flexed, and she caught the shimmer of sweat on his skin. Beneath the knit top’s sleeves, his biceps bulged thickly.

  “Daisy?”

  “Huh?”

  Marjie was staring at her, sporting a mischievous grin.

  “I was thanking you for hiring these two beautiful men.” She nodded to Dom and Jack. “You have excellent taste.”

  She laughed. “I do, don’t I?”

  Her laughter caught the men’s attention, and they both paused to look at her.

  “Good morning.” Jack smiled, although she detected a hint of tension to his mouth.

  “Morning, boss.” The corners of Dom’s lips lifted, stopping just short of an actual smile.

  Their gazes locked, then his dipped slowly down then up again, and she knew instantly what he was focusing on. The form-fitting chartreuse sweater dress cinched at the waist with a wide black belt didn’t leave much to the imagination. But she’d been working out hard, and wearing clothes that showcased her efforts was part of the reward.

  Both men were staring at her, so she crossed her arms, covering her chest. Jack’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Dom’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching as he flicked his gaze to Jack.

  Beside her, Marjie coughed to conceal what Daisy understood was a feminine snicker.

  “I brought coffee for everyone.” And I have to get out of here. She spun and stalked to the front of the shop to grab one of the steaming cups of her favorite French roast.

  “Jack’s been grumpy this morning,” Marjie whispered. “Did your date go okay last night?”

  A glance over her shoulder told her the two men weren’t far behind. “Later.” It bothered her that Jack might be in a pissy mood just because she hadn’t put out last night.

  “I’ll be counting the moments.” Marjie waggled her eyebrows.

  Daisy frowned. “You’re nothing but a gossip.”

  “No, I’m a hopeless romantic.” Marjie settled on her stool behind the counter and plucked one of the coffees from the tray. “I’ve been married to my Stan for twenty years, and I want you to have the kind of happiness I found.”

  She rested her hand on Marjie’s shoulder, smiling wistfully. “Me, too. Thanks.” She leaned over to pick up a packet of sugar that had fallen to the floor.

  “You look very nice today, boss,” Dom said.

  When she straightened, he was standing directly behind her, and he’d probably gotten a good look at her chartreuse-clad ass as she’d bent down to grab the sugar. As she tossed the packet on the counter, she caught Jack watching Dom with a suspicious glint in his eyes.

  Suddenly self-conscious, she smoothed her hands down her sides and over the wide black belt cinched at her waist. Heat flooded her face, and the shop suddenly felt as hot as a tropical rain forest.

  “What’s on tap today?” Jack stirred creamer into his coffee.

  Daisy sat next to Marjie on another stool and took a long, energizing sip. “With the trees in place at the Piazza, the only thing left to do is deliver the centerpieces.”

  “Dom and I can do that today.” He glanced at Dom.

  She shook her head. “I need Dom to make other deliveries. We have a small wedding, a sweet sixteen, and a fiftieth anniversary today.”

  When the two men exchanged looks, she pursed her lips. It had been momentary, but something conspiratorial had passed between them.

  “Will do, boss.” Dom nodded, then turned to look out the shop window.

  “The sweet sixteen is at noon, the wedding is at one, and the fiftieth anniversary party is at four. You’ll have to deliver the church flowers, bouquets, and boutonnieres by eleven. The maid of honor will show you—”

  “Be right back.” Dom set his coffee on the counter, then went out the front door.

  “What the hell?” She followed him to the door, annoyed at how he was ditching her morning briefing. If he was going to work for her, he damned sure better take his job seriously. The sight that greeted her was totally unexpected.

  An old man pushing a walker had dropped several bags, spilling the contents all over the sidewalk. Dom helped the old man collect his belongings, then secured the bags to the arms of the walker. The man pulled a few dollars from his wallet and held them out, but Dom held up his hand, shaking his head. He gently laid his arm on the man’s shoulder, then watched as he continued on his way.

  As much as she resisted it, the icy shield she’d erected around her heart melted just a little. Try as she might to reerect it, she found herself failing miserably.

  “That is so sweet,” Marjie said from behind her.

  “Fucking Boy Scout,” Jack muttered with undisguised resentment.

  She turned to look at him, surprised not only at the angry outburst but by the glint of malevolence in his eyes. She’d thought the two men were friends. Perhaps not so much after all.

  Dom turned to reenter the shop but froze when he caught the three of them staring. His eyes met Daisy’s, and another thought occurred to her. How could a man who cares so much do something serious enough to get him fired from the NYPD?

  As he came back toward the shop, she stepped aside.

  “What were you saying about that delivery?” he asked, closing the door behind him.

  “Um, yeah.” She struggled to refocus her thoughts. “The maid of honor will meet you at the church. Marjie will get you all the addresses.”

  “Fine.” Dom returned to the counter for his coffee. “Jack, I’ll help you load up these arrangements.”

  “Let’s do it,” Jack said without so much as looking at her.

  She watched the men start carrying centerpieces down the hall and into the storeroom. Jack was definitely miffed about last night. At least he’d showed up for work. Sadly, her biggest worry was that he’d up and quit on her if things didn’t go the way he wanted.

  “You know,” Marjie said as she stacked the morning’s delivery of roses on the counter, “you could have either of those gorgeous hunky guys just like that.” She snapped her fingers.

  “What do you mean either of them? Jack’s the only one I’ve gone on a date with.”

  “Yeah?” Marjie began sharpening her thorn knife. “Then why does Jack look pissed and Dom look like he wants to eat you up? It’s obvious you’re hot for the guy.”

  Daisy smacked her cup onto the counter. “Hot? For Dom? The man works for me, nothing more.”

  “Right. And Jack doesn’t?” The smirk on Marjie’s face told Daisy she was only humoring her.

  With a roll of her eyes, she retreated to the peace and quiet of her office to concentrate. She fell onto her chair and rechecked the day’s calendar to be sure she hadn’t missed any small orders. From outside, she heard Jack and Dom talking as they loaded the centerpieces into the back of the truck.

  Who am I kidding?

  She’d never be able to concentrate on anything today because it was the most difficult day of the year.

  My birthday.

  Glancing again at her calendar, she reread her handwriting under today’s date: My birthday—buy chocolate! That would be the extent of her celebration. There had been a time in her life when she looked forward to her birthday, as any young girl did
. Those days were filled with gifts, birthday cakes with pretty candles, and lots of hugs and kisses from her mother and father. Now, aside from treating herself to her favorite chocolate cake, she was thankful it only happened once a year. She hadn’t had a birthday since her parents died. On her eleventh birthday.

  After the tragic crash, her grandparents had declared that day to henceforth be a day of mourning, not one to celebrate. But they hadn’t given her a birthday on any other day, either. When they’d dumped her into the foster care system, she vowed never to celebrate another one of her birthdays for the rest of her life. Not even Alex knew when her birthday was.

  With a heavy heart, she touched her fingers to the framed photo on her desk. The last photo taken of the three of them. Uttering a soft moan, she lowered her head into her hands.

  I can get through today. I can get through tonight.

  The clock on her wall read ten a.m. Fourteen hours to go and the day would be over.

  Rumbling sounded outside the window, followed by shifting of gears as the delivery truck headed down the street. A minute later, a masculine cough came from her open doorway. She jerked upright to find Dom leaning against the doorjamb.

  “Wanna talk about it?” he asked.

  “Talk about what?”

  “Your date last night.” He raised his brows. “Judging by the way you and Jack barely acknowledged each other this morning, I gather it didn’t go well.”

  A spurt of anger shot up her spine. “You are the absolute last person I intend to discuss my dates with.”

  “Why is that?” He came in and sat on the edge of her desk, towering over her.

  “Don’t you have work to do?” She pushed from the desk, intending to get up and leave, but he leaned down and grabbed the armrests, caging her in.

  “I do, but I thought you might want to talk.”

  His face was close enough to hers that she could see the tiny green flecks in the blue of his eyes. “You planning on giving me advice about sex?”

  He gave a soft snort. “I already know you didn’t have sex with him.”

  “How could you possibly know whether we had sex? Do you have ESP? I had sex with you on the first date, so how do you know I didn’t have it with Jack?”