Chapter Eleven
When she heard the door jingle, she snapped under her breath, “Shit.”
Elodie would’ve sworn she’d locked the door after the last customer a few hours ago. She jumped up from her desk and rushed down the hallway to the sales floor. A figure passed by the large display, and she rounded the bend.
“I’m sorry, we’re…” Her voice caught in her throat, and a simmering fire raced through her veins.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Julian was the last person she wanted to see. Ever. If she could rid the earth of him without any repercussions, she might do it. Her hate was strong and warranted. Fucking asshole! Her lawyer handling the lawsuit gave her strict instructions after her last run in with Julian. Under no circumstances were they to interact without counsel.
“You didn’t return my calls.”
Elodie balled her fists. “Because I have nothing to say to you, Julian. If you want to correspond, we do it through our lawyers.”
“C’mon, Elle.” He stalked toward her.
She groaned, dodging his advances and making her way to the door.
“I thought I locked the door.” she muttered, cursing her absentmindedness.
“You did.”
Elodie spun around, sending him a seething glare. “Then how’d you get in?”
He dug his hand into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys. Goddammit. She’d forgotten she gave Julian the spare keys. At the time, she hadn’t thought much of it. He’d loaned her the money and was acting as an ally in her keeping the store. Just call me a sucker!
“Elle.” She sidestepped again, putting as much space between them as possible. Julian held up his hands. “I just want to talk.”
“I have nothing to say!”
“This got all fucked up.”
She snorted. “Yeah, because you got butt hurt I wouldn’t sleep with you.”
“No.”
She hardened her stare and folded her arms. He could deny it all he wanted, but it was the truth. And sadly, she hadn’t seen it coming. He’d stood by her side when her mom got sick and rallied her out of her depression the year after. He was a good guy. Or so she’d thought. When her store had fallen on hard times, he’d stepped up, offering her a loan. Then he’d changed the terms and showed his true colors.
“We can work this out without the court.”
Elodie scoffed. “No, we can’t, because I’m not fucking you!”
His gaze darkened, and she felt a chill race down her spine. They were alone in her store after hours. Aside from her apartment upstairs, it wasn’t a residential area. Fuck!
As if she’d called for a lifeline, the bell over the door jingled, and he walked in. Tall, muscular through his expensive suit, with a neatly trimmed salt and pepper beard and his eyes glaring at Julian across the room.
Oz.
“Am I interrupting?”
She darted her gaze across the showroom. Julian stood silent, staring back at Oz. They weren’t evenly matched. Even on a bad day, Oz would destroy him. She peeked over, and he hadn’t taken his eyes off Julian.
“I believe the store is closed,” Oz stated.
Elodie watched as Julian walked slowly to the door. She expected Oz to move, allowing a clear passage, but he remained in his spot, scowling at Julian. He shimmied to the side and opened the door just as the thought hit her.
“Wait,” she blurted and weaved through the displays, stopping directly in front of Oz and facing Julian. She held out her hand. “The keys.”
Julian’s nostrils flared, and his jaw squared. Oz cleared his throat, and Julian instantly jerked his gaze over her head. She had no idea what silent message Oz was sending but Julian’s face paled, and he shoved his hand in his pocket, pulling out her keys and dropping them in her hand. Seconds later, he was out the door and halfway down the street. That was amazing!
Oz leaned toward the door, his chest brushing against her back as he flipped the lock.
If ever there was a moment for hero worship…this might be it. My panties are drenched.
Elodie spun around. “That was perfect timing.”
He ignored her comment and glanced out the window. “Why was he here?”
“I was ignoring his calls. I guess he thought if he showed up, I’d be forced to talk to him.”
Oz glanced down, his gaze hardening. “Why did he have a set of keys?”
The last thing she wanted to do was rehash her history with Julian. She carelessly waved her hand and walked toward the center of her shop. “It’s a long story.”
“Tell me.”
“Oz, I don’t want to…”
He narrowed his gaze. “Elodie.”
Julian was the last topic of conversation she wanted to discuss with Oz. Clearly, from everything she’d seen at the club and his lifestyle, he managed his business well. Her? Not so much.
“Elodie?”
She jerked her gaze across the room. Oz stood with his hands in his front pockets. God, he’s sexy.
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
“I wasn’t asking.”
“God, you’re bossy.” She laughed, driving her hand through her hair. “Julian’s harmless.”
His jaw squared. “A grown man who shows up at night, cornering a woman who is alone, is not harmless.”
Elodie hadn’t looked at it that way.
“He knew you’d be alone and preyed on that.”
She swallowed the knot in her throat and darted her eyes to the glass window. She’d never been concerned about her safety when working late, but Oz was giving her a new outlook.
Elodie sighed, resting her hip on the counter. “Julian is” —she caught herself— “ was a friend of mine for years. When the store took a hit, and I was at risk of losing it, Julian offered to loan me the money. It’s proven to be one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made.”
“Why?”
“Oz, I really don’t want to…”
“Why?” He growled.
She exhaled and shook her head. “Because when I turned down his advances for anything more than friendship, he demanded I repay the loan, in full, immediately.”
He furrowed his brows. “What were the terms of your contract?”
Oh, dear God, this is humiliating.
“I don’t have one.”
He narrowed his gaze, and his scowled deepened. Elodie immediately held up her hands, lifting her shoulders to her ears. “I know, I know. It was stupid. Trust me, I’ve heard it from plenty of people.”
When he didn’t say anything, she muttered, “I trusted the wrong person.”
Oz’s disapproval was evident and had her feeling ridiculously inadequate as a business owner. Everyone made mistakes, missteps, and misjudgments. There was always room for growth and experiences to learn from. But this was by far the most expensive lesson she’d learned.
Oz looked over his shoulder toward the window then stalked forward, stopping a foot away from her.
“He is not permitted in the store or near you. Do you understand?”
Elodie snorted. “It’s not like he was invited, Oz.”
“If it happens again, you call me. And I’ll deal with him.”
Elodie was capable of handling herself, but she wasn’t opposed to Oz alleviating some of her stress.
“Deal. Can we go upstairs now?” She rested her back on the counter. “I made dinner for us.”
“I’ve made reservations.”
For Christ’s sake, Oz.
Elodie laughed, shaking her head. “Does everything have to be a chess move with you?”
He moved closer and grasped the edge of the counter, caging her in. “Yes.”
She popped up on her toes. It didn’t give her enough height for eye level, but if he lowered his head, it’d be a great position for a kiss. Much like the game, he wasn’t giving her an inch.
“Oz,” she whispered. “Let me win this one.”
His gaze heated, and he stepped back, waiting for her to walk ahead of him.
She may not have been winning but… at least I’m on the board .
****
This wasn’t the first time he’d been in her apartment, but he hadn’t seen much more than her bedroom last time. As Elodie worked in her small kitchen area, it gave him an opportunity to survey her apartment. It was an open floor plan with nothing separating the living room, kitchen, and small dining area. The entire square footage of the area was probably equal to his bedroom. He circled around the couch, eyeing the furniture. Like her bedroom, the pieces were mismatched but put together in a way they complimented each other. She definitely had a keen sense of style. Eclectic yet tasteful. Rogue should take notes.
Oz stopped near the windows. She had a great view of the main street. Her store was centered in the shopping district. As he’d mentioned before, it was prime real estate, and her store should’ve been soaring. He still hadn’t gotten to the root of her financial downfall, but he would. And for his part, Oz was going to personally look into Julian and the lawsuit.
He turned toward the kitchen, but the corner wall in the living room caught his attention. There were cardboard boxes and totes stacked five feet high. They were labelled, but without getting a closer look he was unable to read them. As he moved to the breakfast bar, he saw scribbling in green marker on one of the boxes. Mom’s photo albums. Through his intel from Nash, he’d known of her mother’s passing. Oddly, Elodie hadn’t mentioned it.
He passed the counter littered with paperwork. Mostly bills with a few stamped PAST DUE .
“It’s ready,” she said with her back to him,
Oz took a seat at the table. Elodie walked over with two plates, placing one in front of him. It was the least formal dinner he’d had in years. Surprisingly, he liked it. She sat across from him, handing him utensils. This would be interesting. Usually when he looked at his food, he knew what he was eating. His best guess here would be a stew of some kind.
“It’s a new recipe. It got great reviews.”
Oz grabbed his fork, took a bite, and stilled. Even after tasting it, he wasn’t quite sure what he was eating. The meat was chewy, and the texture grainy.
Elodie twisted her lips and hummed. “Something is definitely missing.”
Flavor.
“It’s not bad though,” she said.
Oz eyed her plate. Are we eating the same goddamn meal? How anyone could eat this dish and be so oblivious to the taste was beyond his comprehension. She’d obviously missed some ingredients while adding extra of others to compensate. He was even questioning if the chicken was entirely cooked. Is it even fucking chicken? Oz grabbed his napkin, wiping his mouth while simultaneously trying to swallow.
He glanced over at Elodie, who was staring at him. She smiled, though it seemed strained. He was obviously not doing a good job at masking his distaste. Elodie stood, rounded the table, and reached for his plate. “I’ll order takeout or something.”
Oz clasped his hand around her wrist, and her gaze jerked to him.
“Did I say I didn’t want it?”
Her throat bobbed. “You don’t have to eat it, Oz.”
No, he didn’t, and had it been anyone else, he probably wouldn’t have. But there was something in the way she watched him take the first bite as if pleasing him was important. It had the alpha in him roaring and ready to unleash. Elodie may have been the boss in most aspects of her life, but she submitted beautifully and eagerly for him.
He narrowed his gaze. “Let go of the plate.”
She released it and smirked. They finished the meal, and Oz was sure he’d be regretting it later. But Elodie seemed quite proud of herself when she took his plate. As she cleaned up he paced around her living room, checking his messages. They’d gotten a lead on Karl, and Nash was expecting to have him by later this evening. If that was the case, his night would end early.
He sat on the couch responding to Nash and ordering him to keep him posted.
“Do you want another glass?”
He glanced up, watching her approach the couch with a bottle of Scotch. Oz was still nursing his first drink. He shook his head.
“It’s shit isn’t?”
“Yes.”
Elodie laughed, placing the bottle on the table and sitting in the corner of the couch.
“I appreciate your honesty.” Her lips twitched. “And in case you’re wondering, my feelings aren’t that hurt you don’t like my Scotch. Truthfully, I forgot I had it since I don’t drink it.”
Interesting. This was the perfect segue.
“Then why have it?”
“It was my mom’s.” She stilled but blinked as her cheeks pinkened. “She passed away two years ago.”
Oz knew all about her late mother, but she didn’t know that. He wouldn’t be sharing either.
“My condolences,” Oz said and watched as she gave a small nod and flattened her lips. It was easy to see while she had moved on with her life, it’d been a struggle.
Oz purposely glanced over at the boxes in the corner. Elodie must have been watching him.
“That’s all her things. They were in storage, but I had to” —she paused— “I got rid of it. I’m slowly going through everything. It’s amazing what people keep.”
Oz looked back at her, but her gaze was focused on the boxes. She blinked, gave a subtle shake, and smiled at him.
“That’s actually where Julian comes in.” She drove her hand through her hair. “He was really supportive. I went through a—” She licked her lips but didn’t elaborate.
Oz could’ve let it go. Most people would have.
“Went through what?”
“A dark time. We’d always been close, but when she got sick, I moved in with her. Seeing her every day and caring for her became my new normal. And when she died” —she paused and lowered her voice— “it took me a long time to navigate life without her.”
Oz had been surrounded by death for so long, he was immune to it and the grief of others. Ironically, he’d never lost anyone worth mourning over. In some people’s eyes, that was a gift. He assumed Elodie would agree with that.
“Too deep for a second date?”
“No.”
His phone pinged, and he glanced down.
Nash: We have a problem. He’s on the run.
Fuck.
Oz sighed, responding to Nash. It wasn’t the best timing. He hit send and stood.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“I have to handle something. Business.”
“I understand.” She slowly nodded her head. “I don’t have a shift until the afternoon. We could meet for breakfast. Maybe you’ll even let me treat you?”
Oz had a tight and busy schedule for the next couple of days. The only time he would be free was nights. Staying at her place wouldn’t be convenient, especially if he was called away in the middle of the night. But there were other options.
This would be a first for him.
He leaned down, bracing one arm on the couch and hovering over her. Seeing the blush swipe her cheeks was stirring a heat inside of him. He slid the palm of his hand over her cheek and gripped her throat. Beautiful. When Elodie inched upward, he met her halfway, taking her mouth for a kiss. Oz was short on time, but it didn’t stop him from deepening the kiss. Her tongue slipped past his lips, tangling with his. The second she pressed her hands against his chest, he knew he had to end it. Oz pulled away, but Elodie fisted his shirt.
He dug his fingers into her neck gently, breaking away from the kiss. “You’ll be at my place tomorrow night. I’ll send you the address.”
“Am I staying the night?”
Oz had never had a woman share his space. “Yes.”
He ignored the mischievous gleam in her eyes.
“Bring your financials. And all the paperwork from your lawsuit.”
Elodie knitted her brows. “Why?”
“Because I want to know what Julian has.” He walked to the door, down the stairs, and out the back door. The SUV was waiting with the back door open. Ridge stood a foot away, grasping the handle.
“Secure this building.”
“Yes, sir.” Ridge nodded. “For how long?”
Oz narrowed his gaze. “Indefinitely.”
He was making a statement.
And a claim.