13. Chapter 13
Chapter 13
“Stop chewing on your thumb,” Hawk grunted, glancing away from the road long enough to deliver his edict.
“What if he doesn’t like me?” I fretted.
He draped a wrist over the steering wheel of his black Ford Raptor truck and pursed his lips, nodding sagely. “You’re probably right. He’s gonna hate you. Carry on with your thumb gnawing.”
Panic had my eyes widening until I was afraid they’d pop out and fall onto the floorboard. “What? Seriously?”
He chuckled, and the sound was so deep, I could feel it vibrate my own ribs. “I’m fucking with you, Bee. Shark’s a hardass, but he’ll be nice to you because you’re Cam’s cousin.”
I slapped my palm onto my lap and huffed. “Well I don’t want that either. I want to get the job because I deserve it and he thinks I can do the work.”
Hawk reached over and patted my shoulder. “You’ll be fine, Mallori. You’re very bright and can do anything you put your mind to.”
His praise warmed me with confidence, and I nodded. “Thanks.”
“I mean, you’re a total pain in my ass…” His furry face twitched.
Ah, he thinks he’s funny. Maybe I should teach him a lesson. Forcing my bottom lip to tremble, I pretended to wipe my eyes with the collar of my shirt. “I’m sorry,” I sniffed, and Hawk immediately jerked the truck to the shoulder of the road and stopped.
He blinked at me a few times, his eyes filled with something akin to panic.
“Aw fuck, Mal, I’m sorry. I was just kidding. You’re… you’re a cool chick and everything.” He scrubbed at his mouth with a big hand.
Taking pity on him, I grinned and crowed, “Gotcha!”
Letting out a long exhale, he rolled his eyes upward, as if he was searching for strength on the roof of his big truck. “Why the hell do I put up with you?”
I laughed as he flipped on his blinker and pulled the vehicle back onto the road, my nerves calming a few thousand notches. “Because of my enviable charm?” I offered.
“Nope, definitely not that,” he shot back.
Relaxing back into the soft, black leather, I watched the world go by from the side window. “Thanks for offering to let me stay at your house. I know you’re used to living by yourself.” He gave a curt bob of his head, speeding up to switch lanes in the thick Dallas traffic. “If I get this job, I’ll pay rent.”
“No, you won’t,” he said simply.
“It’s not fair for me to not pay anything. You have a house payment and bills and—”
“I own the house.”
“Yeah, but the electric bill, water, internet…”
“I paid those bills on my own long before you arrived. You’re not giving me any money.” His voice was as hard as steel, signaling that there was no room for argument.
I argued anyway. “I wouldn’t feel right, Hawk.”
His pink lips vibrated as he blew out an exasperated breath. “How about you pay me with services rendered.”
You mean like… I brushed that naughty thought away.
“I could be your butler,” I offered.
Hawk laughed and shook his head. “This isn’t an episode of Seinfeld . It’s completely unnecessary for you to pay anything, but if you’re going to insist, we could call it even if you made lasagna for me once a week.”
I put on my bargaining hat. “Three meals a week, including lasagna, and I purchase the groceries.”
He thought about it for a long moment before speaking. “You can buy the groceries for the lasagna, and I’ll cover the rest. You need to save your money.”
Thinking about it, I knew it still wasn’t quite a fair deal, but at least I’d feel like I was contributing something . And it wouldn’t really be that long. I was moving into the graduate student dorm in August.
“You’ve got yourself a deal.”
“I was thinking of something else,” he said, taking the next exit with the speed and smoothness of a racecar driver. “You said you wanted to rent studio space to teach some dance lessons, right?”
“I’m thinking about it,” I said, wondering where he was going with this.
“If it’s just private lessons, you could use the workout room at the house. I’m not sure it’s big enough for a group class but should be good enough for one-on-ones.”
If I said I was stunned, it would be a severe understatement. “That… that would be amazing,” I gushed. “Are you sure?”
“Yup, it’s fine. I can work out in the mornings or when you’re done.” He whipped the truck into a parking garage beside a high-rise building covered with blue mirrored glass. “We’re here.”
Well, I guess it was decided then.
“This is so nice,” I said when we exited the elevator on the fourteenth floor. The floors were navy-blue marble with flecks of gold, and a large wooden reception desk was backed by the words DFW Security Force emblazoned in a slanted font on the wall.
“We have the entire floor,” Hawk informed me. “We just recently moved into this building, and we have a lot more space. Used to have to share offices, but we all have our own now. Except for Woody and Taz. They share.”
“They’re married, right?”
“Yup.” With a hand between my shoulder blades, he guided me toward the reception desk. “Morning, Lisa.”
The dark-haired beauty flashed a brilliant smile. “Good morning, Mr. Gentry. I have a few messages for you.” She held out a sheaf of small, pale-blue notes, and he took them.
“This is Mallori, Cam’s cousin. She’s interviewing to take over Journey’s job while she’s out. ”
“Oh, fantastic!” she sang. “I’m afraid she’s going to pop at any moment.” Her warm brown eyes shifted toward me. “Good luck with the interview, Mallori. I’m sure you’ll be great.” Her voice was a sweet drawl, wrapping softly around her vowels, and I instantly liked her.
“Thank you. It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Enough chit chat,” Hawk grunted, leading me toward a door to the left of the desk.
Lisa stuck out her tongue at his back, and I liked her even more.
“Watch yourself, Lisa,” he said without breaking stride. What the hell? Does he have eyes on the back of his head?
Adorable peals of laughter followed us as he swiped a card through the reader, and a blue light flashed. When the door clicked, we went through into a hallway with dark-blue carpeting.
“We’ve got about thirty minutes,” Hawk said. “Let me show you around.” He tapped on a wooden door with a gold nameplate that read Diaz, and a male voice called for us to enter.
The office inside had two large dark-wood desks set facing each other. A woman rose from one, her long black hair, braided down her back. Her brown skin had a slightly reddish undertone, and her high cheekbones indicated that she was probably of Native American descent.
When she walked toward us, her gait was slightly off, and I glanced down to see a prosthetic right leg peeking from beneath her trousers.
“I’m Tazanna Diaz, but you can call me Taz,” she said with her hand outstretched. We shook, and then she aimed her thumb over her shoulder. “That hottie back there is my husband, Woody. ”
He stood and came to stand beside his wife. Woody Diaz was about six feet tall, a handsome Latino man with dark, wavy hair. “You must be Mallori. We’ve heard so much about you from Cam.”
“Only the good stuff is true,” I quipped, and they both laughed.
Someone knocked on the door, and Taz almost knocked us all over to answer it. “That’s gotta be our Door Dash order from the amputee restaurant.”
The… um… what?
She took the order from the driver and carried two bags of food to her desk, filling the room with the aroma of pancakes and fried meat.
“Did you say the amputee restaurant?” I asked in confusion.
“Yep,” Taz said, opening a container and dumping about half a gallon of syrup inside. “IHOP.”
I almost choked on the laugh I attempted to swallow because I should not laugh at that!
“Told you that joke was lame,” Woody said, his lips curling into a smirk. “But I guess it’s better than the StubHub one.”
Unable to help myself, I allowed a small giggle to escape before covering my mouth with my fingertips. “Sorry,” I mumbled.
“It’s okay,” Hawk said. “You can laugh. Taz fancies herself as a bit of an amputee comedienne.”
“I’m fucking hilarious,” she said around a mouthful of pancake before narrowing her eyes at her husband. “And the StubHub joke is golden.”
“Mallori is going to physical therapy school in the fall,” Hawk informed them.
Taz’s eyes brightened. “Really? I had the best team of physical therapists and occupational therapists when I was learning to walk again. It really makes a difference when you’re surrounded by people who want you to succeed.”
“And ones who can put up with your crazy ass,” Woody said, though the affection in his voice was unmistakable.
Taz threw a biscuit at him, and it bounced off his forehead and onto the floor. He mumbled something under his breath while picking it up and tossing it into the trash can.
“What was that, dear husband?”
He turned to face her and crossed his arms over his wide chest. “I said, that was your biscuit, so don’t ask for mine.”
“But the baby loves biscuits,” she purred, blinking up at her husband with her almond-shaped brown eyes.
“Then the baby’s mama shouldn’t act like a brat,” he retorted.
“Here they go,” Hawk said from the corner of his mouth. “Let’s get out of here before we see something we can’t unsee.”
“What does that mean?” I asked once we were back in the corridor.
“They’ll go back and forth for a few more minutes, he’ll give her his biscuit, and then they’ll have make up sex on one of the desks.”
“Oh.” There wasn’t much more I could say to that.
“Happens a few times a week. I think they pick fights with each other on purpose so they can have naughty office sex.”
“So they’re expecting a baby?”
“Yep. She’s not very far along yet, but her appetite is crazy right now. Woody said their grocery bill has almost doubled.”
He led me toward a door at the end of the hall, and my eyes fell on the nameplate. Atwood. As in Beau “Shark” Atwood. The boss of this company .
“Shit,” I hissed, straightening my white button-down shirt. “Are you sure I shouldn’t have worn a dress or suit or something?”
Hawk’s warm hand pressed against my upper back, and my nervousness settled a bit at his touch.
“We’re pretty informal here. We usually wear these polos for work unless we’re on a job that requires a suit. You look great.”
After knocking, he pushed open the door to a very large office. A man with sandy brown hair and sharp green eyes sat behind a desk, a telephone pressed to his ear. He gestured for us to enter with a waggle of his fingers as he wrapped up his call.
Hanging up the phone, he stood. Shark Atwood was a little shorter than Hawk, but his aura of authority made him seem like a giant.
“You must be Mallori,” he said, crossing the room and giving me a firm handshake.
“Yes, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Call me Shark or Beau,” he said, indicating that I should sit in the brown leather chair across from his desk as he took his seat.
Hawk gave me a shoulder squeeze before he left, and I sat primly on the edge of the chair, taking a deep breath.
Okay, here we fucking go.
“You got the job?” Cam yelled, scooping me against him and twirling me in a circle. “We’ll get to see each other every day.”
He squeezed me so hard, I yelped out a laugh. We were in his office, which was a replica of Woody and Taz’s but with only one desk .
“I know! Look, you’re gonna have to help me when I have dumb questions so I don’t look like an idiot in front of Shark. He’s a little scary.”
“Pshhh, he’s not bad, but you can always come to me if you need anything. How about I take you to lunch to celebrate?”
“Did someone say lunch?” A guy with blond hair pulled into a man bun stuck his head in the door. I usually wasn’t into long-haired men, but this dude was rocking the hell out of the look. Even dressed in the office uniform of a polo and khakis, he exuded style from every pore.
“Shoulda known,” Cam groaned. “You mention food, and suddenly Bode appears.”
The blond grinned without an ounce of shame and rubbed his belly, which was so flat I could have used it as an ironing board. “What are we eating?”
“Dude, it’s not even nine o’clock yet. We’ve got hours till lunch.”
His eyes lit on me, and he flashed a smile with perfect white teeth. “You must be Mallori.”
“Yes, and you’re Bode, I assume.” We shook hands.
“The one and only,” he informed me. “So about lunch…”
The rest of the morning passed quickly. I met Journey—the woman whose job I would be doing while she was on maternity leave—and her wife, Lynn, who was the office manager. They were both sweet, and Journey assured me that she would show me the ropes, starting Monday .
The entire crew went to lunch at a local barbecue restaurant, and I’m not sure I’d ever laughed so much. Bode had me rolling with his stories, especially the one where he’d done a strip tease on top of Cam’s desk.
Journey and Lynn shared loving looks across the table. Woody and Taz pretended to fight over the last rib—she won, of course. The rest of the crew bantered back and forth, including me in their teasing comments.
I smiled as I forked up a bite of creamy potato salad. It felt like I was truly a part of this big, crazy family.
Cam drove me home after lunch. Or to Hawk’s house, which was going to be my home for the foreseeable future. Since I’d been living out of boxes and suitcases since I’d arrived, I decided to unpack, filling the dresser, closet, and bathroom with my things.
As I was neatly stacking my many pairs of dance shoes on a shelf in the closet, my hand hovered over each one.
Shit, Mal. It’s not that fucking hard. Just do it.
My fingers traced the smooth leather of the black jazz shoes, and without another thought, I flopped down on the floor and slipped them on my feet. It felt foreign and familiar at the same time.
And good.
After changing into some black dance shorts and a spaghetti-strap top, I literally ran to the workout room, my feet and my body begging for the music.
I searched through one of my old playlists and turned on “All Eyes On Me” by Skinny Beats.
And I danced.