6. Wicked

6

Wicked

That Never Happened

"This is where the magic happens," I say as I flip on the office lights.

Most of our staff only work for the initiative part-time, so they're out and about or working from home. The space is used primarily for meetings. Leo and I put up some temporary walls to section the loft off into two offices, one meeting room, and one large room with several open work spaces. The desks can be used by anyone at any time. We're not strict on schedules as long as people are getting their work done and picking up cashiering shifts at Heathen's when we need them. Leo's old kitchen works as a makeshift break room. There's a bathroom up here too.

Today, however, the office is empty, save for me. It's Friday in late August. Most of the staff are playing hooky and already out for the weekend, but I'm not about to be on their ass for it. If I hadn't had to set September's budget for Ramos Automotive, I would've been out on the waves myself. Now I'm glad I was here and Dahlia didn't have to face her father all on her own.

Dahlia's silent as she looks around the space. She sets the one unharmed container of brownies on the kitchen counter before following me into my office, hovering at the doorway as I step inside. "When we were kids, the entire town was run by mom-and-pop businesses. We knew all the owners. They were our neighbors, family, friends. About seven years ago, my mom's best friend, Ruby, passed away. She owned an ice cream parlor here on the boardwalk, and it went up for lease. They tried putting in a frozen yogurt chain." I lean against my desk. "After that, it was like investors were coming for every small business in the area. They tried buying my dad out of his property, wanted to tear down his business to build a hotel or a T.G.I Fridays, I don't fucking know.

"Anyway, once Leo started making money, he came home and bought out the boardwalk. He was determined to keep the small businesses in place, to protect the people who dedicated their entire lives to this town, our parents included." She doesn't say anything, but she watches me intently as I speak. "The Mayor was in agreement with him, so they allocated funds to the Small Business Initiative, but it wasn't enough. Leo provided the rest. We opened Heathen's, our friend August opened the tattoo shop at the other end of the boardwalk, and we promised that we'd only put family businesses in between. The economy has made it hard for us to find anyone wanting to take the leap on signing a lease, though." I shrug. "But we're trying. The initiative also serves to protect other small business owners within the Pacific Shores city limits. We help them with marketing, event planning, sponsorships and advertising. We also provide free legal advice when they need it. Loans for when they're struggling. Really, we're just doing what we can to keep the sense of community we grew up with alive."

I may have overshared. I mean, she'll be working here, so she should know what we stand for, but given that the initiative and the two businesses I own are the only things I have to show for myself, I have a tendency to go overboard when I talk about them—especially to pretty girls I can't get out of my head.

"That's really amazing," she says softly.

I press down the lifting sensation in my chest at her approval.

"Thank you." I step off the desk and gesture around the room. "This'll be your office once you start, so I thought you'd like to see what it looks like. You know, so you can start visualizing how you'll want to decorate and whatnot."

Her brows raise. "But… isn't this your office?"

I shrug. "Yeah. But we've only got two private spaces in this building, and Leo's office is here too. I have a second office at the auto shop, so I can start using that one full time and just come down here for meetings."

"I hate to kick you out of your space."

"Don't worry about it." I smile at her, and she forces one back. All she really looks like is uncomfortable, and I can't tell if it's because of what happened with her dad downstairs or because of her proximity to me.

"Do you want to see anything else? Otherwise, I can walk you out."

"No." She shakes her head, giving another strenuously fake smile. "Thanks for showing me around."

I nod as I lead her out of the office and to the main door. "I'll tell everyone the brownies are from you so they know who to thank when you begin working."

She doesn't respond as I lock the door behind us and follow her down the stairwell that leads to the backside of the boardwalk. I assume she parked in the garage across the street. As we make it back to the doors of Heathen's, she pauses. Her head swivels up and down the road, and I know she's searching for him, to see if he waited for her to leave.

"I'll walk you to your car, cari?o ."

She opens her mouth as if she's going to protest, but she thinks better of it and simply nods. I lead her across Main Street and into the garage on the other side of it. She stops when we reach a mid-size Honda that looks to be a newer model in fairly decent shape.

"This is a good car," I say then feel stupid for it.

She snorts. "Thank you."

" Cari?o ." She looks at me as she opens the driver's side door. "Do we need to talk about what happened at the bar?"

"No." She swallows. "We need to pretend that never happened. Today is the first day we met, understand?"

I hate hearing that, but I nod, forcing a smile of my own. "Well, I suppose you'd better introduce yourself to me then."

A hint of a genuine grin flashes on her cheeks. I hold out my hand, waiting for her response. She slowly extends her own, and a near imperceptible flare in her eyes flashes as our skin meets. "I'm Dahlia," she says breathlessly.

"Everett," I respond, running my thumb across the top of hers.

I swear I see chills rush up her spine at my caress, but she drops her arm swiftly, stepping into the car. "You told him you were my boyfriend."

I swallow, caught off guard by her statement. Her eyes grow wide, as if the words surprised her too. "I didn't know who he was at first," I explain. "I thought if he was someone you'd dated or something, he may have been more likely to back off if he thought you were unavailable."

Her mouth turns up slightly, the first sign of amusement I've seen in her since that night at the bar. "Well, it probably helped more than it hurt. It appears the only men my father seems to be intimidated by are the ones Darby and I are dating."

"Happy to be of service." I wink at her. She gives me a coy smile again as she buckles herself and reaches for the door handle. Before she can shut the door all the way, I grab the top of the window, holding it in place. "Dahlia, are you sure you're safe with him around? I can follow you home. Or we can file a report with the—"

"No," she says too quickly. "I'm going to pick up my daughter and go straight home. I know how to lock a door, and he knows better than to try breaking and entering. We'll be okay."

"It sounds like he has expectations to see you again before he leaves tomorrow."

"I'm well known for not living up to his expectations."

I don't feel confident about this, but she doesn't seem like the type of woman who likes to be pushed once she makes a decision.

"We'll take care of you guys." I don't know what else to say, but I know those words are true enough, even if Dahlia wasn't…whatever she is to me now. It wouldn't matter. My family protects each other, and that's what they are to us now. Darby. Dahlia. Her daughter.

My brother. Myself. Our parents. We'll take care of them.

She raises her head, appreciation shining in the raging sea of her gaze.

And fuck, if that look doesn't do something to my chest.

"Thank you," she whispers.

The woman in front of me now is so different from the confident person I met in that bar, as if two minutes with her father sucked all the life from her. It takes everything in me to shut her car door and watch her drive away, to keep myself from hunting that man down myself.

Later that night, I call my brother and tell him what happened with Dahlia and her dad. I'm a little afraid she'll be upset with me for informing them, but that fear subsides when I find out she already explained the situation to Darby. Darby's convinced their dad only had the courage to come around because she and Leo are out of the country, and that made Dahlia an easier target. They were supposed to extend their vacation in Europe after Leo's competition in Portugal next week, but Darby asked to come home right after instead.

I don't want to cross the boundaries Dahlia set between us, so I don't demand they give me her phone number, even though I want it desperately. Instead, I tell Leo to give her mine, to let her know she can text or call me with any kind of emergency, or just if she feels generally uneasy. Secretly, I hope she'll text me just to talk, that maybe I've been as stuck in her head as she has been in mine.

I make Ryan station one of his officers outside their house overnight, just to be safe.

Then, I stay up far too late, waiting for a text message that never comes.