"We received the permits Friday, which frees up Hank to head down there Tuesday. Groundbreaking is Monday— if Dad can squeeze it into his busy schedule." It was pathetic to want to hear her voice when he'd just seen her the day before. Especially since he'd decided it might be best not to see her again.
"They've secured all the financing?" Jake grinned when his son Alex threw himself onto his shoulders. "Careful, there kid. You're getting heavy."
"And your old man is out of shape." Jeff smiled when Alex cracked up. At age seven they were so easy to impress. All it took to be awarded favorite uncle status were knock-knock jokes and pizza. Even Hector had practically made him out to be a superhero because he'd tossed the kid a few baseballs.
"Yeah- Mari— the shelter," he corrected, "has secured enough to get us through to the finishes. So that gives us at least six or seven months of work before they run out of money."
"And the way Mari secures donations, they'll be in fine shape by then." Linc entered the room, a drooling infant in his arms. His mom followed with the other twin. Jeff still couldn't tell the girls apart yet. They were both adorable. And terrifying.
Glancing at his brother, he wondered how the hell Jake managed to do it. In just shy of two years, Jake had gone from an unmarried, bad-tempered workaholic to a seriously married, slightly less cranky father of four. Frankly, when it came to his wife and their kids, he'd turned into a friggin' marshmallow.
His totally awesome sister-in-law was whipping up something fantastic in the kitchen. The smell made his stomach growl in anticipation while he watched Jenna's son scramble over his brother's shoulder to plop into his lap. His brother loved Jen's two kids as though they were his own. Their daughter Megan was the spitting image of her mother. And now they'd added the twins.
Jake's laughter filled the room. He'd never seen his brother happier. What Jeff had trouble imagining was ever wanting that scene for himself. Settling down. The words seemed so foreign. And so— final. Yet seeing what his brother had achieved sort of made him start thinking. Not any time soon- But . . . someday. Maybe.
"What do you think of her, son?"
Huh? His thoughts scattered when his dad spoke. "Think of who?"
"Marisol. Isn't she fantastic?"
"Yeah. She's great." Why did his old man have to keep bringing her up? He'd been trying to go more than thirty minutes without thinking about her. "They're all great," he was careful to add. "But I seriously could've used your help over the past few weeks. Getting those ladies to make decisions requires a charm I seem to lack."
"Don't be silly. I knew you'd do a bang-up job, Jeffie."
"When are you coming back, Dad? I need your help sorting out the decorating issues. Some of the finishes have a pretty long lead time and those women are feisty. I need to get the colors selected and get the damn order placed."
"I don't know, exactly. I've still got a couple irons in the fire. Might be a few weeks."
"Weeks? I'm starting to get stacked up in estimating." That caught his brother's attention.
"How stacked up?" Jake stopped tickling Alex long enough to shoot him a look.
"Not that bad," he admitted. What the hell was going on with the old man? It was only a few years ago that Linc Traynor lived, breathed and bled for Specialty. To the tune of his marriage, his family— his everything . . . Now, Jeff couldn't get him to commit an hour? "Is there a new lady in your life, Dad?"
"Is there one in yours?" His mother chimed in from her corner of the couch.
"Yeah— no. I mean— no one . . . special." Liar. Jeff felt the urge to pace again. What was with the sudden interest in his love life? Was there no one else they could focus their attention on? "So, Alex— how's school?"
Linc shifted his grandbaby to the opposite shoulder. "I woulda thought you'd like Mari. She's a beautiful woman."
His mother jabbed Linc with her elbow. If he'd blinked, he would have missed it. His dad grunted before he turned to scowl at her. What the heck was going on between those two? Despite their divorce, his parents had been getting along pretty well the past two years. He shot a glance at Jake.
His brother shrugged. He'd seen it too. "How's the budget looking?"
"We're over by about seventy-five grand, but that's my fault. I added in some high end kitchen equipment. They feed so many people each day— and their equipment is crap. I just wanted to see if I could make it happen for them."
"What happens if we get to the end and Mari-the-amazing-fundraiser doesn't secure enough donations?"
Jeff grinned. "You know me. Somehow I'll make it work."
"That's what I was afraid of." Jake sighed. "Try to remember I have four kids to put through college."
Jenna appeared in the doorway. "Dinner in five. Can I borrow someone tall to help with the serving dishes?"
He rose before his brother could dislodge Alex. "Let me do the honors. I'm the only one not wrestling a kid."
Jake waited for his brother to leave the room before he caught his father's attention. "Hey— break it up, you two."
His parents stopped squabbling long enough to turn their attention to their eldest son. If he wasn't mistaken, Jake could've sworn he'd seen sparks flying between them. But that wasn't possible— was it? They'd been apart for a decade. He made a mental note to discuss the subject with Jenna. His wife had an uncanny knack for picking up on vibes that usually went completely over his head.
"What's goin' on with you, Dad?"
Before his father spoke a word, Jake knew he'd hit on something. Linc was guilty. It was written all over his face. But— of what? "Come on— give. Is this about Jeff?"
His mother looked horrified as she raised a finger to her lips. Sweet. The plot grew more interesting by the second. She rose from the couch, still clutching Madison to her shoulder and hurried over to sit beside him. "Not so loud."
He winked at Alex, who until now, had been getting bored with the conversation. But any mention of a secret meant he would be all over it. "Okay— we promise not to tell, right Sport?"
"Uh-huh. I promise."
Mona heard his dad snicker and paused to glare at him. "Your father's trying to set Jeffie up with the woman from the shelter. That's why he bailed on helping him."
"What woman?"
Alex snorted and gave him a poke. "Jeez, Dad— pay attention. Even I picked up on that one. It's the girl Mari-somethin', right?"
Mona rewarded her supremely intelligent grandson with a smile. "It's Marisol," she whispered. "Grampy thinks they're meant to be together."
"Lord help us."
Jenna appeared once again in the doorway. "Come on, everyone. Let's eat."
Jake hoisted his son from his lap and plopped him on his feet. "Mark my words, Alex— this might feel like the longest dinner of your life."
Alex ran three steps before whirling around. "Yeah, but then we get to have Grandma's brownies."
***
She was a big chicken.
It had been four days. Mari threw her pencil down and rubbed her eyes. Four endless days since she'd seen him Saturday. She'd somehow managed to live twenty-six years and four months without ever knowing Jefferson Traynor existed. Then a month ago, it had all blown up. Her perfectly safe, moderately exciting— but definitely adequate life had ceased.
She'd known Jeff was trouble the moment she'd spotted him ogling her in the parking lot. But he'd been so persistent and sweet and so damned attractive that she'd caved. And look where it had gotten her. She was smiling . . . hopeful . . . pathetic. Wanting desperately to see him again— and never wanting to see him again. When she could have seen him Monday— she'd gone out of her way to avoid him. All day long, she'd both dreaded and anticipated his arrival. How would he act toward her? Would he take one look at her and know she was seriously losing it for him? What if he'd changed his mind? Would she be able to resist throwing herself at him and kissing him senseless?
In the end— she'd chickened out. Oh— it had started out innocently. She'd ta
ken a call from a former client— a woman who was out of the shelter and living on her own. A success story who'd needed a little advice. But as the call ran longer, Mari started thinking how much safer it would be to just avoid the meeting altogether. Perhaps she should take a few days to think. Being in close proximity to Jeff was the last thing she wanted when trying to think clearly.
As she'd driven home that night, she'd been forced to admit she'd deliberately made herself scarce for the ground breaking ceremony. Her project— her dream. And she'd lacked the courage to show up. Even worse, she'd been forced to suffer the knowing glances she received from Sharon and the others. And there was no better tormentor in the building than Sharon.
"Did I mention he asked for you specifically?"
"I was on the phone, Sharon." Two days later— she was still bringing it up.
Her boss grinned. "That he stayed late— hopin' you'd show up?"
"If it was urgent, he knows where my office is." Mari sighed as she reviewed her monthly donation goals. A few of her old standbys were late with checks again. She'd have to pencil in a few visits on her calendar.
"You look tired. You sleeping okay, Sugar? The nightmares aren't back, are they?"
"I'm fine," she reassured her work mom and tormentor. "Just a little concerned about Annie's problem." Her ‘problem’ being that her ex had shown up again last night— just as Mari was leaving for the day with Hector. Phil had been drunk— again. And making threats. Poor Annie had taken it hard. All the strides she'd taken in therapy— all the confidence she'd begun to build had been knocked to the ground again. It was to the point where Sharon and the other administrators weren't sure they could continue to keep Annie and her boys safe. New Beginnings was the third shelter they'd lived in. Each time, Phil found them. Now Annie was afraid to leave the grounds, for fear her ex would be waiting.
Mari sighed. She knew what that fear felt like. She'd experienced the same terror after Nick's assault. Of not knowing where he was— wondering whether he watched her, whether he was following her, plotting his next attack. . . She scrubbed at the sudden goose bumps on her arms. "What's our plan?"
If left to fester, Annie's fear would take on a life of its own. It would manifest itself and grow larger than the actual threat Phil posed. But what to do about it?
"Hell if I know. I thought it might be best to move her to another shelter . . . but no one's got space for her and the two kids. And we sure as hell can't split them up."
She frowned. "You think he poses that great a threat? I think it's mostly talk— don't you?"
Sharon's bracelets jangled against the desk every time she moved her wrist. "I'm worried that he always seems to show up when our staffing is light. I don't want him slippin' in here simply because we didn't have enough volunteers on duty. I wonder whether he's been watching enough to know that— or if he's just getting lucky."
"I'll be glad when we get the new card access system installed." It would be worth the huge expense to have peace of mind. But that installation was months away.
"Sugar— we need that system now. And just look at what it's gonna be like for the next several months during construction." She waved her arms around, bracelets clanging. "There's people walking around all over the place."
"They've all had background checks. I made sure that was in our contract." Biting her lip, Mari wondered how hard it would be for someone to slip into the building while they were under construction. The shelter had been noticeably more chaotic since they broke ground two days earlier. At least twenty new faces— moving in and outside. Multiple entrances to the building.
Awareness crackled through her. "Damn, we should have thought of this during the pre-construction. All the systems we have in place to protect ourselves-"
"All gone," Sharon completed her thought. "For the next seven months we ain't gonna know who the hell is inside this building. And that goes for all the serving times during the day, too. The way we contain the homeless clientele to the vestibule, the cafeteria and the bathrooms. In a month or so— we won't be able to even do that. This place is gonna be Grand Central."
"We need a meeting with Specialty."
Sharon nodded. "My thoughts exactly. I'll go talk to Hank outside and have him call Stud Muffin. We need to see if they're available for a conference call. You go round up the staff."
***
"Good morning, Annie." Jeff offered a smile and wave as he passed through the cafeteria. Since he'd started visiting the shelter, he'd made a special effort to greet the older woman each time he ran into her. "Expecting a big crowd today?"
"Good morning, Mr. Traynor." She moved her set-up cart to another table. The shelter staff was between mealtimes so the pace, while steady, was not as frenetic. "If it is, we'll be ready."
"Annie, do you think maybe by the end of this project, you'll be calling me Jeff?" She was so damn shy. He'd watched her in action. She was quiet and efficient and very dedicated. Annie had to be volunteering an easy fifty hours a week at New Beginnings. But she was painfully withdrawn.
She offered a rare smile. "We'll have to wait and see."
He smiled and headed toward the office wing, his mind shifting to Sharon's call. It was never good to receive an urgent call from the client on Day Three. Hank had simply told him to get his ass down there as quick as possible. Hank had already expressed his concerns about dealing with so many women 'changin' their minds every five seconds'. As a retired Army sniper, Hank wasn't exactly schooled in the art of finesse. His style was blunt. Their compromise had been that Jeff would handle the 'finessing' and Hank would 'build the damn job'.
Though he probably should have been more worried, Jeff couldn't contain his eagerness. Mari would be there. It was a full staff meeting— so she couldn't pull a disappearing act like she had Monday. It had taken every ounce of willpower not to seek her out. Then it had taken restraint not to call her that night. And the next day. But damn it, he'd wanted to. And what the hell did that say about him?
That he was head over heels in lust with a beautiful woman? There was nothing wrong with that. The problem was his suspicion that it might be more than lust. The month that she'd refused to date him had made him try harder. And by trying harder, he'd gotten to know her. And now that Jeff knew her— he liked her. A lot. Drawing a steadying breath, he released it. Mari wouldn't hide from him today. They were going to talk. What the hell he would say— he had no idea. But he wasn't wasting any more time pretending not to think about her. He was going to act.
He entered the conference room with a renewed sense of purpose. "Sorry to hold everyone up. I got here as fast as I could. What's our issue?"
Nodding at the chorus of hellos from the group, a quick glance around the room acknowledged Sharon and Hank, already in discussions over a set of plans. The rest of the administrative staff was huddled in groups of two and three. Mari glanced up from the notes she was taking, a frown marring her honeyed skin. She acknowledged his presence as neutrally as possible before averting her eyes.
His stupid heartbeat accelerated anyway. The atmosphere around him became charged the moment he saw her. Jeff wondered if anyone else could feel it. Damn— he'd missed her. As soon as he made the admission, he frowned. What the hell was happening to him? It had only been since Saturday. Four days and he was acting like a lovesick moron.
"We've got security issues." Hank looked up from the drawings, a frown in his eyes. "We may need to reconfigure some of the schedule to make sure we can button up the building."
Relieved to set aside his pathetic thoughts, Jeff mentally calculated the production schedule. "Can you be more specific?"
"We have clients here who are at risk— of being exposed to family members they don't wish to see."
His gaze shifted back to Mari, relieved he had a legitimate reason to catch her glance. "You're referring to the overnight guests, I assume? Women on the run?"
"That's correct." Her beautiful eyes held his, her expression grave. "But we're also
concerned about the volunteers' safety during the day. While we feed a tremendous volume of people each day, we have systems in place to make sure the homeless population is contained to specific areas. They are not allowed to roam free in this building."
"We realized yesterday that with the chaos of the construction, we may have a breach in security." Sharon's usually gregarious personality was subdued, her chocolate eyes reflecting concern. "There were unfamiliar faces wandering in and out— and we haven't even begun work on the interior."
"Maybe we should badge all the contractors?" He glanced at Hank. "Everyone's had a background check, right?"
Hank nodded. "Trouble is— the doors that are usually locked during the day— some of them are gonna have to remain open. I can see at least four times in the schedule where there might be an exposure."
"We’re not as worried about your subcontractors," Mari admitted. "Our concern is more about potentially violent behavior from the people in our client's former lives." Her husky voice crawled through Jeff's system while he diligently tried to ignore the impact.
"Meaning what specifically?"
"Meaning these women have escaped a known episode of violence against them or their children." Her tone indicated a weary familiarity with her topic. "The abuser is not pleased his victim has escaped. All too often, the abuser will seek a way to re-engage-"
A light bulb went off in his head and he interrupted. "Are you saying he comes here to get another shot at her?"
"That's exactly what we're saying." Sharon's mocha voice held a thread of steel. "We've had periodic attempts to break in— to kidnap the woman or her children. He knows if he can get to the kids— his threats will bring her back. It's not an uncommon occurrence."
"Sick bastards." Jeff was silent for several moments. "Okay— we've got two issues here. The first being our ability to keep the shelter on lock-down during the construction so everyone is safe." He directed his comment at Hank. "The second is projecting the exposure during each phase of construction and then coming up with appropriate work-arounds."
Chasing Marisol (Blueprint to Love Book 3) Page 7
