Savage Collision: A Hawke Family Novel (Hawke Family #1)(43)
“So, are you and Savage a thing now?” she’d asked, looking at me with a strange mix of trepidation and interest.
I hissed at her to shut up, but it was too late. Mom heard and immediately jumped on the interrogate-Dani bandwagon. “Oh, a new guy? Who is this Savage?”
With a not-so-subtle eye roll toward Nora as thanks, I decided the best way to answer was with the truth. “He’s Nora’s new boss.”
The fuck-you glare I got from Nora could have frozen molten lava.
“You have a new job?” my mom had asked, innocently enough.
Talk about awkward.
Nora managed to dodge the truth by explaining she’s working part time and redirecting the attention to my love life. My mom has no idea Nora quit school, let alone what she’s doing for a living now. I had to bite my tongue about a thousand times when Nora answered Mom’s questions about her classes. Who knows how long she plans on lying to her, but the truth will come out sooner or later. She will have to face the consequences of her deception.
I only shut my mom up after I finally told her things were too new with Savage to know where they were going. She just smiled and said, “I’m just happy you are giving someone a chance.” She feels guilty and responsible for the way I live my life. I don’t hide things from her, so she knows my interactions with men aren’t designed to lead to love and marriage.
We’d left it at that, along with a note from Nora that she doesn’t need me leading Savage on and then breaking his heart. I can’t say I blame her; that would make work pretty damn awkward for her. And, as much as I hate that she’s stripping, the faith I have in Savage makes the reality of it a little more bearable. I don’t want her to have to deal with an angry ex of mine as a boss.
At the same time, I can’t let what might happen to Nora affect how I handle the Savage situation. It’s new and unusual enough as it is. Looking at him now, with that smug smile on his face, I know I don’t regret taking this chance.
It’s worth it.
I return my attention to the game to avoid thinking any more about Savage’s skills and his cock. I’m not up on my baseball. In fact, I only understand about half of what’s happening on the field.
“Why isn’t the second baseman on second base?” I ask, trying to show some interest.
Savage chuckles and seems to realize my ignorance of the game. “Because he needs to cover the area between first base and second base. Just like the shortstop covers the area between second and third.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. The first basemen stays on his base and the third baseman stays on his. Why wouldn’t they just have another short stop for in between first and second?”
He laughs and seems to consider my question. “I haven’t thought about it really. It’s just how it’s always been.”
“Well, they should change it.”
If I can change, so can baseball.
The click, click, click of my heels on the cement floor echoes in the completely empty warehouse. This place is utterly barren. Only dust and pigeons currently occupy the thousands of feet of space that once housed a bustling car assembly plant.
I glance down at my watch.
7:30.
He should be here by now. Turning in a circle, I search for any sign of Paul. He changed our meeting place, texting me this address an hour ago and telling me to come alone. Like I would ever bring anyone to a meet with him anyway.
I hate to admit it, but maybe Savage is right. Maybe it’s a little dangerous to meet with a source alone, in an abandoned warehouse, where there probably isn’t anyone around to hear me scream if something happened. But, this is Paul, and despite his efforts during our last meeting to intimidate me, I don’t think he would ever do anything to hurt me.
He’s the one who contacted me, after all. After our last meeting, he could have disappeared and stopped calling me and there’s nothing I could do about it. But he texted to confirm our meeting today. He said he would try again, and I’ve been anxious thinking about what he might bring me—photos, recordings, paperwork, anything that can tie Mayor Dunne to Abello by more than just supposition.
I do trust Paul, but the Post-it situation has me on edge. That strange feeling of being watched has followed me since our last meeting. The only time I didn’t feel it was when I was at the game with Savage. But I can’t let my as-yet unfounded unease stop me from my mission.
I need this more than I need some quality alone time with Savage. And that’s saying A LOT.
We were both so exhausted after the game last night, we fell asleep on the ride home, quashing any hopes I had of limo sex. The lack of sex is almost as concerning as Paul’s caginess. He’d better come through.
A clank on the far side of the warehouse near a line of closed office doors breaks me from my reverie and I squint into the darkness, looking for the source of the sound. A second later, a shadow emerges, moving toward me slowly.
“Paul?” I ask, taking a slow step toward the mystery figure.
“Yeah, uh hey, Danika, sorry I’m late,” he answers, his voice quiet and shaky.
“Is everything okay?” He approaches me and, even in the dim lighting of the building, I can see he’s nervous. His entire body is twitching, and he’s in constant motion, looking around the warehouse and twisting his hands together in front of his body.