Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
But there are problems. Oh, there are always problems. That’s what I learned when I took over for my father. No matter what I do, no matter how many bribes I pay or threats I make, there are problems, and they’re all my responsibility.
I reach the top landing and pause to catch my breath. Why the heck does a union boss live on a top-floor apartment? I push out into the hall and find his apartment door, which is when it makes sense.
This place is luxurious. It’s got to be one of the nicest buildings I’ve seen, and I know Dickey Gray’s not paying for it on his union salary. Unless he’s dipping into the dues like sticking his grubby mouth directly under the tap.
I knock. It’s a little late so I don’t expect him to answer right away. After a minute, there’s some muttering and shuffling inside, and the latch clicks open. Dickey’s surprised face peers at me as the door swings wide.
“Caroline? What are you doing here?” He looks me up and down. I’m in my usual outfit, a smart combo of slacks and jacket, and my heels make me look a couple of inches taller, which I desperately need. Mostly though, his gaze lingers on my pregnant belly.
“We need to talk.”
“You could just schedule a meeting.” He looks at his watch. Dickey’s in pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt with some union shop’s logo on the front. “Jesus, it’s almost ten at night.”
“We can do this right here in the hall or you can invite me inside.”
He glances sideways past me. “Seriously, this isn’t appropriate. Call me tomorrow morning—”
I step forward and get right in his face. I’ve dealt with a lot of stubborn, sexist assholes since taking over for my father, but Dickey’s definitely one of the worst. He responds to one thing and one thing only: a show of force.
I stomp right on his bare foot, digging my heel into his instep.
He howls in pain. I grab the front of his shirt and for a second, I think he might hit me. His fist cocks back, his jaw tight, but he stops himself and glances down at my belly.
Another perk of being pregnant.
“Inside. Right now.”
He seethes, breathing hard, before finally nodding. “My office. Just get the fuck off my foot.”
I release him and he stumbles back. Dickey hurries inside, leaving the door open. I follow, down a very nice hall lined with expensive photos, and into a gorgeous little office space. Big desk, high-end stereo system, lots of glass and wood. For a working man, he sure as hell has good taste.
“You didn’t have to break my fucking foot to get a meeting,” he says, sitting down with a curse. “God damn, Caroline.”
“This won’t take long.” I slip a contract out from my bag and dump it down in front of him. “You’re going to sign.”
“Is that the Walker job again? I told you already, there’s too much risk, and there’s no way my boys are tying themselves down like that. Not on those terms.” He rubs his foot, glaring at me. “If that’s all you came for, then you wasted your time. God damn, this is going to bruise.”
I wait until he’s done. I stare at him, unmoving, before pointing at the contract. “Here’s the deal. I’ve tried to do this the sweet way. I offered kickbacks. I made promises. I met your demands. Now that’s over. You’re going to sign, right now, and you’re going to shut your fat mouth, or else you’re finished. I’m going to cut you off.”
He barks a laugh. “You cut me off and you lose my boys. Don’t bluff me, Caroline.”
“How long can you last without my support? What’s the mortgage like on this place? Think you can even afford the taxes without my family’s money? I bet your wife has a certain standard of living these days, and I know you still have two kids in college. Think you can afford it all once the money tap dries up?”
“You’re not the only game in town. Don’t threaten me.”
“Actually, I am. I’ll make sure nobody will touch you, Dickey. You’ll starve to death. I’ll watch it happen too. Eventually you’ll get desperate, you’ll come crawling back, and it’ll be too late. Someone else will have signed that paperwork, and you’ll be screwed. Because here’s what you don’t understand—” I approach his desk and loom over him. “You need me just as much as I need you. Now play ball, sign that stupid contract, and let me go home.”
He stares at me. Anger’s written all over his face. I’m prepared for a fight. Hell, I’m ready to rumble if that’s what it takes.
But Dickey Gray’s a lot of things. Including vain, greedy, and in debt up to his eyeballs.
“We had a good relationship before this.” He grabs a pen, flips through the pages, and starts signing. “That’s over.”