Chapter 8
ELENA
T he rain pounded against the windows of Donati Enterprises, turning the city beyond into a blur of grays and blacks. I rolled my neck, trying to work out the knots that had formed after hours hunched over spreadsheets.
"I think we finally got it," Macey said, tapping her pen against the desk with a satisfied smile. "Damn Linda and her sloppy entries, I swear she just stopped caring in her last few weeks before she left. Good catch, Elena."
I saved the corrected file and closed it. "Thanks. I'm just glad we found it before month-end."
"You and me both." Macey glanced at her watch and winced. "It's nearly eight. I'm sorry to keep you so late."
"Don't worry about it." I stretched my arms above my head. "You said there's overtime, right?"
"Absolutely. Time and a half." She gave me a knowing look. "That's why you didn't complain, isn't it?"
I laughed. "Guilty as charged."
"Smart girl." Macey gathered her things. "Need a ride home? It's coming down in buckets out there."
"I'll be fine. My roommate has my car tonight, but I can catch the bus." I wasn't about to admit to her that I didn't want her seeing where I lived and worrying about me. I'd come to like her over the last few days working under her.
Macey frowned. "You sure?"
"I've got my jacket, and the bus stop has a shelter. Besides, I checked ahead for the times, the next bus is only ten minutes out." I smiled reassuringly. "Go home to your husband. Didn't you say you're leaving town next week?"
Her face brightened. "Wine tour with my daughter. I've been looking forward to it for months."
"Then you definitely don't need to be playing chauffeur tonight."
We walked out together, and Macey locked up behind us. The security guard nodded as we passed through the lobby. Outside, the rain hit like needles, and I pulled my jacket tighter around me.
"Last chance," Macey called over the downpour as she hurried to her car.
"I'm good! Have a great night!"
I jogged to the bus stop, already soaked despite the short distance.
The plastic shelter offered minimal protection as wind drove the rain sideways.
I checked the schedule posted on the wall—seven minutes until the next bus.
Perfect, I wouldn't be stuck in this for too long, and I was looking forward to a semi-warm shower.
Although, a nice bath back in my old home would be perfect.
I sighed as I lifted my shoulders, trying to use my jacket collar to block out some of the wind whipping my neck.
I unlocked my phone, shooting a message to my old colleague to see how she was doing since she was renting out my place, wanting to make sure they'd not discovered any issues.
My mom and I had always worked to keep our homes in top condition, fixing what we could and hiring contractors for what we couldn't do ourselves.
Fifteen minutes later, I was still waiting for the bus, my teeth chattering.
Had I missed it? The next one wouldn't come for another forty minutes.
Had the damn thing come early? Hopefully it was just running behind in this weather.
I pulled out my phone to check the transit app for an update, but the screen flashed a 2% battery warning before going black.
Story of my life.
"Damn it." I'd forgotten to charge it last night after falling asleep, and I'd told myself I'd do it at work. Too bad Macey had distracted me with talks about her wine tour, and charging it had left my mind.
Headlights cut through the rain, and a sleek black Audi pulled up to the curb. My chest tightened as the driver's door opened, but relief washed over me when Jackson stepped out, not some stranger.
He jogged over, joining me under the shelter. Water dripped from his dark hair onto the shoulders of his black jacket, and my breath caught.
I should not have been so thrilled to see him, and yet…
"Peters. What are you doing out here?"
"Waiting for a bus that apparently doesn't exist." I tried to keep my tone light despite my misery and the flutter in my chest.
"Your car finally died?" His eyes, more black than earthy brown in this light, studied me with concern.
"No, that thing's impossible to kill. My roommate borrowed it for her shift tonight."
"How long have you been waiting?"
I glanced at my dead phone. "Twenty minutes, maybe? The next one isn't for another forty, I think. My phone died, and I don't have a watch."
"That's ridiculous." He shook his head. "Come on, I'll give you a ride."
"I can't ask you to do that." Nor do I want you to see where I live.
"You didn't ask. I offered." His voice was firm but not unkind. "Macey would kill me if I let her new protégé catch pneumonia right before her vacation. Besides, if it doesn't come and your phone is dead, you'll be here overnight. I don't like the thought of that."
Of course he didn't. Damn him, being all sweet when I didn't want him to be.
I hesitated, stuck between not wanting him to know my living situation and wanting to get home and warm before I did, indeed, get sick. "Are you sure? I don't want to put you out." I should've just taken Macey up on her offer in all honesty. But I was out of options now.
"It's no trouble. My car's right there, and you look like you're about to turn into an icicle." A hint of a smile touched his lips. "Besides, Macey's been talking about that wine tour for weeks. I'd hate to ruin it for her."
I laughed despite myself. "She has been pretty excited. I've heard all the plans."
"Try sitting through lunch with her. I now know every winery in the Napa Valley by heart."
The rain intensified, and a gust of wind sent a spray of water into the shelter.
"Okay," I conceded. "Thank you."
Jackson nodded and led the way to his car, opening the passenger door for me. I slid into the leather seat, immediately feeling guilty about my wet clothes.
"I'm sorry about your seats," I said as he got in beside me.
"They'll dry." He started the engine, and warm air began flowing from the vents, making me let out an audible sigh.
"Where to?" He arched a brow at me.
I gave him my address, watching as his brow furrowed slightly.
"That's in Westbrook?"
"Yeah." I shifted uncomfortably. "I know it's not the best area, but it's what I can afford."
He didn't comment further, just nodded and pulled away from the curb. The windshield wipers worked furiously against the downpour, and I huddled into my seat.
"Thank you again for the ride," I said after a moment of silence. "I really appreciate it."
"You apologize and thank people a lot."
"Force of habit, I guess." I looked out at the rain-blurred streets. "My mom always taught me to be polite and respectful."
"She sounds like a good woman."
"She is." My throat tightened as I thought about my conversation with her last night. "The best."
Jackson glanced at me before returning his eyes to the road. "You two are quite close then?"
"Very. It's been just us for most of my life."
"And your dad?"
I tensed. "Not in the picture."
He nodded, seeming to understand not to push further. "What about your roommate? You said she has your car?"
"Ivy. We've been friends since we were kids. She's basically family."
"Known her a long time, then."
"Since third grade. Her parents were..." I paused, choosing my words carefully. "They weren't great. My mom kind of took her under her wing. Before I knew it, she pretty much lived with us."
"That's good. Having someone like that." His voice softened almost imperceptibly.
"Yeah." I studied his profile in the dim light. "What about you? Any family?"
His jaw tightened slightly. "Not really. Not anymore."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be." He made a turn, expertly navigating the slick roads. "It was a long time ago."
We fell into silence again, but it wasn't uncomfortable. The rain drummed on the roof, creating a soothing rhythm.
"How are you finding the job so far?" he asked after a while.
"It's good. Challenging, but in a good way." I hesitated. "Macey's been great—patient but doesn't sugarcoat things."
"That's Macey. She's been with the family for a long time, guess it hardens some people in ways, makes them more blunt when it comes to what they care about. She's loyal and cares about the company and the family."
"Seems like people tend to stay with the Donatis."
Jackson's eyes flicked to me briefly. "They inspire loyalty."
"What about you? How long have you been with them?"
"Three years." He slowed for a red light. "After I left the service, they found me. Offered me a position in security."
"They found you?"
His lips quirked up slightly. "I had skills they needed."
"From Special Ops?"
He nodded. "I was happy to have a purpose again. They're honorable people."
The light changed, and we continued through the rain-soaked streets. I noticed his hands on the steering wheel—strong, with calluses that spoke of hard work beyond typing on keyboards.
"Is everything okay?" I asked. "You left suddenly yesterday."
"Something came up. Part of my job is general security for the family."
"Sounds like a lot of work between that and IT."
He shrugged. "Keeps me busy. Occupied."
"How long were you in the service before joining the Donatis?" I asked, curious about the man behind the intense exterior.
"Six years in, three years out." His voice remained neutral, but I sensed the subject wasn't one he enjoyed discussing.
"That's a long time to serve."
"Not long enough for some things. Too long for others." His cryptic response hung between us.
We turned onto my street, and I pointed out my building, the three-story walk-up with peeling paint and a flickering exterior light.
"That's me. The charming one with the broken gutter." Which was gushing almost directly over the path in. Typical.
Jackson pulled up to the curb and frowned at the building. "Couldn't you find anything in a better area?"
"This was the only place within my budget." I tried to keep the defensiveness out of my voice. "It's not so bad inside."