“Did your apartment building burn down?” he asked, absorbing Jake’s jeans and button-down shirt with shrewd eyes.
“No, and I wasn’t robbed either,” Jake said. “I’m taking a few days off.”
“Of course you are,” his dad said, directing his attention back to his computer.
“Excuse me? When’s the last time I took off?” Jake sat in a leather chair that may as well have been wooden, too. Keep your visitors uncomfortable so you always have the edge.
One of his dad’s rules for business.
That one was quickly followed in his head by one of John Stone’s. Everyone breathes the same, boy. Sticking your nose up don’t give you better air.
“You talking officially, or when you don’t bother to show up?” his father said.
Here we go.
“So,” Jake plowed ahead. “We Are New York?”
Eyes flitted his way over the computer. “What of it?”
“Brooklyn waterfront for a reason?”
His dad frowned. “Asking me this for a reason?”
Jake didn’t blink. He knew his father’s diversion tactics better than anyone. He’d been schooled in them.
He simply shrugged. “Curious.”
“Hmm,” his dad said, meeting Jake’s gaze, folding his hands and steepling his fingers.
“I have some friends there,” Jake added, feeding the machine a little more, forcing his body to stay relaxed.
Eyebrows went up a fraction, not in surprise, but in practiced conversation mode. And then there it was. The steepled fingers started rubbing together. His tell.
“But you knew that already,” Jake said with a smile.
“Why wouldn’t you? You spent time there when you were young. After—”
“After that place?” Jake said with a laugh. “I don’t know why you can’t call it the ranch. You did send me there.”
“Your grandfather sent you there,” he said, his tone sharpening. “I spent that year doing damage control.”
“Ah, priorities,” Jake said. “Well, anyway, guess who I saw wandering around down there last night?”
His dad gave a placating smile. “I can’t imagine.”
“Oh, I think you can,” Jake said. “Try harder.”
Deep, weary sigh with eyes closed. Always the put-out one, with such a trying son.
“I don’t have time for games, today, son,” he said. “Can we do this later? Maybe next—”
“Did you know about all the history down there?” Jake asked, flipping the switch. “Three of the buildings are even marked as the first three, connected with tunnels. Built by a crook who had pirate connections.”
“Pirates?” his dad said, chuckling. “Really?”
“Really. Used again during Prohibition,” Jake said. “Two of them had speakeasies.”
“Well, history brings some fascinating stories,” his dad said, those fingers about to start a tiny fire with all that friction.
“Yes, it does.” Jake leaned forward. “That’s just three of the buildings. Why are you destroying it?”
“Son, everything has an expiration. It’s time for that tired area to get a new life.”
“By kicking everyone out?”
The fingers came unwound. “Hold on. They are being fairly compensated—”
“What about the ones leasing?” Jake sad. “Are they being compensated? What about the people who are being evicted and have to find new homes. Are they getting compensation?”
“Jake,” his dad said, leaning forward again. His listen-to-the-teacher pose. “There are casualties in every war.”
“This isn’t war, Dad.”
His dad laughed as if dealing with a naïve child. “Business is war, son. You need to learn that.”
“And you need to learn, O Sensei, that when you call a project We Are New York like you’re reaching out and doing something for people, you should actually do something.”
Jake was on his feet without even knowing he’d stood.
“That’s—”
“Do you even see the potential in front of you?” Jake continued before his dad could cut him off. “People love old shit. They love walking where people smuggled in gold hundreds of years ago. Eating and dancing where people used to sneak off to drink. You want to say you’re New York? Be a part of it. You have a board president that’s knee-deep in the historical society.”
His dad gave him a surprised look. “William Benson.”
“Yes,” Jake said. “Use Benson’s connections. Revitalize. Cobblestone the streets. Put up old lamps. Create a historical district that will bring people in in droves. Help the shop owners revamp their places to fit the theme. Beef up the boardwalk. Give them an option to buy in. You could do so much without ever leveling anything, and make money hand over fist.”
Jake stopped to inhale, realizing he’d done that rant all on one breath. It had been a while since he’d stood off with his father.
“Are you done?” his dad asked.
Jake blew out a breath, knowing that showed his hand. Showed a weak spot that could be pounced on. But he was a little out of practice.
“Are you listening?”
“I heard every word, son.” He rose and glanced at his watch. A totally unnecessary show of being done with the conversation, since there were three clocks in the room, one the size of one wall. “But the deal is done. Contracts are being signed. Demolitions are being scheduled. There’s an entire model of the new area sitting on the fortieth floor in Planning.”
Jake blinked. “What?”
His dad raised his eyebrows the way he always did when Jake fell short.
“It’s nice to see you passionate about something, Jake, but where was all this a year ago when the proposal went out? Or even six months ago? William has already researched all this, it’s done. And you come in here dressed like a street person waving signs of protest at the big bad company, like it’s the first you’ve heard of it. Like you aren’t imminently attached to it.”
He was right, and Jake hated that. He was playing a ridiculous game of hide and seek, pretending he wasn’t part of the problem, when in reality he’d never paid attention in the first place.
“You’re in charge,” Jake said. “You could pull the plug anytime you wanted to. I’ve seen you do it.”
His father crossed his arms over his chest. “Not this time,” he said. “And by the way, you signed off on it, too,” he added.
Jake met his eyes. There was that. “Signatures can be redacted.”
That time, the eyebrow raise was in surprise.
“You want to get Legal involved?”
“Would slow things down, wouldn’t it?” Jake said quietly.
His father’s eyes narrowed, first in awe, and then in suspicion. “Who’s the woman?”
“What?”
“You heard me. You don’t get this fired up over a bunch of buildings,” his dad said. “Who is she?”
Jake saw twenty shades of angry. If anything justified every ounce of bad blood between him and his father, that whole sentence was it.
“First of all,” Jake said through his teeth. “What the hell do you think I went to college for? Second—” Jake swallowed the bitterness that filled his mouth over how he’d referred to Harper. As some woman. The very next zinger through his brain was that he wasn’t arguing that there was one. When did that happen? When Harper Haley melted in his arms. Again. “Second, if you’re referring to the woman your little lap puppy stalked last night, no. She’s an old friend. And you can tell Trent that scaring the hell out of her was an asshole move. He’s damn lucky her dad wasn’t around or he’d have holes where they weren’t before.”
Eyes faltered in his dad’s face, telling Jake all he needed to know. Marco’s call to Miriam had been relayed upward, Trent had been checking things out. But Jake knew that his dad would never intentionally hurt or frighten a woman. He was old school when it came to things like that. There would be words for Trent.
“I need to go, son,” he said. “If you’re coming in to work today, please go change into something appropriate. Find a razor. If not, this conversation is—”
“Not over,” Jake finished.
“Son, let it go,” he said, sounding weary. He pulled his suit coat from his chair and put it on as he came around his desk. He patted Jake’s shoulder as he passed him, but Jake pivoted with him.
“I believe there are rules about messing with certified historical landmarks,” Jake said to his back, playing his last card.
His dad smiled as he turned slowly, his fingers pausing in their buttoning of the coat. It was the tiniest of pauses, but Jake noticed. “I told you, William Benson already vetted this. There are no landmarks out there.”
Jake inhaled slowly. “Not yet.”
The smile froze on his dad’s face, and he took two steps back toward Jake.
“Don’t try to play with the grown-ups, Jake,” he said quietly. “You haven’t earned it.” With that, he turned and walked toward the door. “I have a meeting. I assume you remember your way out.”
Jake didn’t move. Everything inside him twitched, but he held it in. The grown-ups. Fire boiled his blood so hot and fast he felt like his skin would ignite. Deep inside, he knew that his father’s attitude toward him was partially his own doing, but it always felt like it wouldn’t matter if he’d been the perfect son. The two of them had a circle of mutual misunderstanding that never seemed to have an end.
The big door opened a bit and Nina’s head appeared.
“Just checking for bodies,” she said. “He left and you didn’t, so—”
“No worries,” Jake said, mentally shaking it off. “There may be a few teeth marks, but I’m still standing.” Walking past her, he asked, “Do I have anything on my desk?”
“Besides dust?”
Jake only hesitated a second before continuing his steps onward, not saying a word.
“Jake?” she called. “Jake, come on, I was joking!”
He wasn’t in the mood.
Chapter Six
Harper might as well have been eighteen again, and nothing was more exhilarating or more irritating. She’d barely slept, finally passing out and waking with the feel of his mouth still on her lips. The sensation of his body crushed against hers and his hands in her hair.
Dear God, he might have just been playing along, but that was a kiss for the record books. And one that had thrown all her determination and fight right into the river and melted her on the spot.
And she hadn’t fully solidified since.
So far that morning, she’d forgotten to put coffee in the first machine, resulting in a pot of hot water. She made two orders wrong, and gave one man his whole ten-dollar bill back instead of the change.
God, she was doing exactly what she’d done back then. Walking around blind, deaf and dumb in a fog of Jake. She was thirty years old, damn it. Not some dewy-eyed girl anymore. She’d had relationships come and go. She’d gotten serious once, even, before it fizzled. And none of them had her shaking in her shoes from one kiss. He’d had that effect on her twelve years ago, and now Jake was back, grown and scruffy and manly, kissing her into stupidness all over again. His voice saying her name. Harper.
“Harper!”
She jumped, spilling the milk she was pouring into the steamer. “Damn it, I made a mess.”
“With the wrong milk.” Christian pointed, taking the milk jug from Harper’s hands. “He ordered skim, not whole.”
Harper blew out a deep breath. “Jesus, I’m a train wreck,” she muttered.
“No kidding,” Christian said. “What gives?”
“My brain,” Harper said. “My sanity.”
“Your ex-boyfriend?” she added, stepping out of reach as she put the milk back in the fridge and reached for the skim. “Sorry, but it’s kind of obvious.”
“It would benefit you not to go there,” Harper said with a shake of her head. And another glance at the clock. It was almost ten.
“Speaking of, is he coming back today?” Christian asked. “We could use the extra hands.”
Don’t think about his hands.
“He said he was,” Harper said offhandedly. “But, hey, it’s not like he’s committed to it. He didn’t fill out any paperwork or—” The bell dinged and Harper spun around, but it was a customer leaving.
“Yeah,” Christian said, cocking an eyebrow. “Train wreck.”
Harper shot her a death glare. “Shut up and go make something fattening.”
• • •
By noon she was livid. Not only had she made a fool of herself mooning after an old love, but the asshole stood her up. Okay, not really, since it was work, not a date, but he didn’t really work there and he was only coming because of her. Unless he wasn’t coming. Because of her. Again.
She couldn’t do this again. Seriously.
Except yes, she could, damn it. It was one day. One kiss. One man would not break her. Not even Jake.
I got spooked.
“Spooked, my ass,” she muttered out loud, bringing a questioning look from a customer who’d come up to the counter for extra cream. “Sorry.” She smiled, then a whistling noise accompanied the natural poof of the power going out.
“What the—”
The fridge made a groaning noise, the machines popped, and customers stopped talking.
“Shit,” Harper muttered. “Nobody open the fridge or the freezer. I’m gonna run across the street to see if they’re out, too. See if it’s a breaker or a full neighborhood outage.”
She walked out into the sunshine and jogged across the street toward Sticks. Nothing was open on her side of the street anymore. She read the sign on the blackened window when she got there and was sickened all over again. Fifty years. She looked around at how the neighborhood was systematically shutting down. It wasn’t right.
“Move on, Harper,” she whispered, opening the door.
She blinked a few times to adjust to the low light, but the difference was that there actually was light. Seeing Frankie’s form behind the bar, hunched around a laptop with two other guys, Harper headed that way.
“Hey, Frankie, have you had any power glitches over here?” she asked as all three men looked up. “Ours—”
The words died on her tongue when her eyes landed on each man: Frankie, a dark-haired guy she didn’t know, and Jake.
Jake.
Over here hanging out with the guys. Relief that he hadn’t skipped the planet again washed over her quickly, followed by a series of words she probably shouldn’t say aloud.
“Hey, Harper,” Jake said—that friggin’ look on his face again.
Oh, hell, no, he didn’t get to use that look today.
The strange man in the middle gave him a melodramatic sideways look. “This is Harper?” he asked.
“Our power’s good,” Frankie said. “Must just be the breaker over there again.”
Harper managed to nod, her brain firing off so many things she couldn’t keep up with what to do. How to act. Should she be mad that he didn’t show when he said he would? That he’d bailed again, yet sat there innocently saying hello like nothing was wrong? Or was she making too big a deal?
“Okay, thanks,” she said robotically, turning back to the door.
“I’ll be there in a bit,” Jake said, stopping her.
She looked over her shoulder. “It’s noon, Jake. Don’t bother.”
His face went blank. “What?”
“Our morning rush is over,” she said. “We could have used you then, but we won’t need you till this afternoon.” She should stop there. Stop. “Then again, if you have other more important things to do, don’t bother then, either.”
Leave. Leave. Leave. Shut up. She was pushing the door open to sunlight, stepping out onto the sidewalk, almost making it, when the door moved even more.
“Hey, hang on,” Jake said, stepping out behind her, standing so close she could smell his soap. He had to have vaulted that
bar to get there that quick.
“Go back and play with your friends, Jake,” she said. “I have work to do.”
Harper wanted to throw every word in the garbage can nearby. She’d overreacted and had no place calling him out or being so nasty. But it was like everything she’d felt back then, coupled with this morning’s disappointment, came bursting to the surface.
“Excuse me?” Fire flickered in his eyes. “Play with my friends?”
“Look, you don’t even really work for me.” She backpedaled, trying to save face. “I shouldn’t have expected you.”
“I’m in there trying to save this place.” He pointed behind him with the muscles flexing in his forearm. “I have a plan.”
Harper blinked. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“A plan?” Harper asked, disbelieving. “What kind of plan?”
“The kind that takes a little creativity.”
“Meaning illegal?” she asked.
“Not at all,” he said.
Harper stood there, shaking her head. “What—why—”
“Why would I do this?” he asked, to which she could only nod. “Because it deserves saving. Even when some of the residents are kind of off the damn rails.”
That brought her back. “Off the rails?” Her head was spinning with confusion. “You don’t know a thing about me,” she said. “In fact, you know what? Let it stay that way. Let me stay that girl you never gave another thought to,” she said, feeling a burn in her eyes she would never show him. “The one that spooked you.”
Harper turned back toward home, to her shop, her building, her haven, but the hand on her arm spun her round.
His face and body was against hers in an instant, until she was right up against the building, her body backing away as her fingers clawed into his shirt, pulling him with her. He complied, his face just inches from hers.
“You think I never gave you another thought?” he asked, one hand coming up to her face. “You are the only one I could never forget. The only time in my life I ever felt something real.”
Harper sucked in a breath, feeling like she was inhaling him with it. Jake pulled his hand back and it popped right back up like he was fighting it. He was so close. Too close. The heat coming off him was dizzying, and she couldn’t think with his mouth right there. Right. There.
Hero in Disguise Page 5
