Dying for Love

Grace pretended a shiver. “Heavens, no.”

“Some men hide a big heart behind a tough demeanor. My George was that way.” Mrs. Freeman’s eyes went misty. “Tough as a pit bull on the outside, soft and affectionate as an old tabby cat on the inside. Your Mr. Duncan might just need a good woman to tame him.”

“Maybe, but that good woman won’t be me.” Grace glanced at the parking lot then did a double-take. Her car wasn’t in its usual spot. The pit of her stomach fell. “Where’s my car?”

Mrs. Freeman edged her walker forward. “There it is, dear. Across the way.”

Grace followed the direction of the old woman’s trembling, wrinkled finger. Her brand- new tango-red Honda Accord Crosstour sat on the far side of the parking lot beneath a big tree. She blinked, her pulse skittering. Her lips tightened. What the hell?

Mrs. Freeman tutted. “The carport is safer than that old tree.”

“Um-hmm.”

She clutched the handle of her briefcase tight enough to leave finger imprints. No way had she parked there last night. She was never that tired. There’d better not be a single hairline scratch on the finish, or someone was going down. As a practical joke, the humor escaped her. As something more…She didn’t want to think about anything more. She scanned their surroundings again.

Casual expression firmly in place, she glanced at the elderly woman. “Have you heard about any weird break-ins in the complex?”

Mrs. Freeman’s smile disappeared and a little frown crinkled the white skin between her slim brows. “No, dear. Why? Is something wrong?”

Grace forced her stiff cheeks into a smile. “Goodness, no. Just something I overheard in the hallway the other day. I’m sure it’s nothing. You know how kids are.” Leaning down, she planted a soft kiss on Mrs. Freeman’s age-weathered cheek and patted Apollo. “Lovely to see you both. I’ll be by to take Apollo for a walk when I get home.”

She glanced back as she reached the parking lot. Mrs. Freeman’s smile was troubled. Guilt bit hard. Grace waved at Roger Gray as he eased his big Lincoln to a stop near the curb. So he was taking Mrs. Freeman out for breakfast.

As she neared her car, the hair on her neck rose. She glanced around. No face peered from the bushes, no curtains twitched and nothing shifted in the cool morning air. Rubbing her neck with an unsteady hand, she circled the car. Not so much as a fingerprint marred the gleaming finish. She tried the handle. Locked. Rummaging in her purse for the keys, so jittery she may as well have drank the whole untouched pot of coffee, she glanced around again.

A chilly spring breeze ruffled the trees. Shadows skittered for cover.

Grace shivered and hit the remote button to unlock the Honda. With a quick look in the backseat, she tossed in her purse and briefcase, slid into the driver’s seat, slammed the door shut and locked it. She wrapped trembling fingers around the leather steering wheel.

“No boogeyman is going to jump out from behind the tree.” She glanced through the sunroof at the tree branches waving overhead. “Or out of the tree.” The whole morning had her on edge, totally creeped out and talking to herself, which was friggin’ fantastic.

Starting the car, she took a deep breath, focused on the smooth sound of the new engine and automatically checked the gas level. A paper covered the gauges.

Nice car, slut

*****

Matt Duncan peered through the door as Grace got off the elevator and walked down the hall toward her office. He snapped straight, shaking his head in disgust. Leering at an employee—he was such a pervert. In his defense, he’d been closing his door when the elevator pinged. The glimpse of Grace emerging froze him in place.

For six long months he’d worked hard to hide his attraction to her. Ever since she’d walked across his office for her interview. Marilyn Monroe couldn’t have done that expanse of polished hardwood more justice. He’d instinctively checked to make sure his tongue wasn’t hanging out. Miracle of miracles, no drool pooled on his desk either.

Her job performance, warm friendliness with the other staff, persistent charm, quick wit, and sharp intelligence had quickly made her an asset. And served to fuel and deepen his attraction. Admiration and respect rode hard alongside physical attraction.

He scrubbed a hand over his face and clicked the door shut. The day had barely begun and was already headed to hell in a handbasket. Breakfast with his mom and stepdad had rocked his world, and not in a good way. The cherry on top of his crappy morning? His receptionist reminding him of his brother’s appointment.

“Mr. Duncan?”

Matt strode over to his desk and hit the intercom button. “Yes?”

“Your eight-thirty appointment is here.”

Not what he wanted to deal with today. Especially since his mom hadn’t shared her devastating diagnosis with Jeff yet. Cancer. Damn, she didn’t deserve that. Not after all she’d been through with her ex-husband—his father—screwing around on her.

“Send him in.”

Retrieving his coffee from the bar, he carried it to his desk. A large object between him and his brother was always beneficial. Jeff threw open the door and stomped in before Matt’s butt hit leather. Great. Already sporting an attitude.

Matt leaned back, sipping cold coffee gone bitter. His brother flung himself into one of the hard chairs facing the big desk. His worn polo shirt pulled taut over his round belly. Prematurely thinning hair added to Jeff’s general resentment of the world. In less charitable moments, Matt wondered how they came from the same parents.

“Hey, big bro.” Jeff didn’t make eye contact. “What’s up?”

“You tell me. You’re the one who asked to see me.”

Jeff snorted, finally raising watery eyes to Matt. “Yeah, and I have to make an appointment with your stinkin’ secretary to even get in the door.”

“You said it was about business, and that’s how a business is run. People make appointments with one another so they can schedule their day. Makes things easier on everyone.”

“Or just you.”

Matt gently set his cup on the desk and laced his fingers together in his lap. “How’ve you been?”

“Fine.”

“How’s your new job?”

Jeff laced and unlaced his fingers, straightened and slouched and then straightened again. Matt tensed. His brother cracked his neck.

“That’s kinda what I wanted to talk to you about. Things didn’t go so good. The supervisor was totally unreasonable when I forgot to come back from lunch last week.”

“You forgot…” Matt pinched the bridge of his nose. “…to come back from lunch?”

“Yeah. I got distracted. So, I figured, ya know, to hell with it.”

“Really.” Matt wanted to close his eyes and pretend Jeff wasn’t sitting there. That he hadn’t just blown off this latest job. One Matt had gotten for him, calling in yet another favor. He couldn’t wait to hear from the contractor. In fact, he was surprised he hadn’t already.

“I was hoping you’d let me help out on the construction site again.”

Matt bit back a sharp bark of laughter. “You think I should let you back on my job sites, where you took your buddies after-hours two months ago and let them take off with fifteen hundred dollars in materials and tools. Three months ago you almost killed a guy when you swung the crane around too fast and lost a load of lumber.”

Jeff slunk lower. “No need to get bitchy about it, man.”

“I’ve warned you before. No foul language in my office.”

“Sh…Damn, dude. What’s gotten into you?”

“During the ten years you blew off, roaming free and living off Dad, having a grand ol’ time, I’ve worked my butt off building this business. I have a reputation for well-built structures and well-run construction sites. All of my employees behave in a professional manner at all times.”

“I had my own business for a while, ya know.”