“She ain’t no lady.” Jeremy smirks in my direction. He jerks his head around to face his grandmother and flushes. “Sorry, Grandma. Isn’t. She isn’t a lady.”
My hands ball into fists. I went to a private school where they pounded in manners morning, noon, and night. I know how to cross my legs. How to bend down to avoid showing my panties. And how to look at the outline of a man’s penis without anyone noticing.
Fine. That last part, they didn’t teach in the classroom.
“Unfortunately, she thought you were trying to swipe your grandmother’s purse. Obviously, she was misguided and should’ve realized you weren’t the type to rob someone.” Cade places his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder and leans closer like they’re confidants.
The first conversation I’ve ever had with Mr. January is going to forever be–this one. Rumors have swirled that he thinks Mr. Truman made a mistake in hiring me. Now, he’s going to wave his red flag–high and proud. Termination, here we come.
Cade stares into Jeremy’s eyes as sincerity rolls off him in waves. “However, we can agree that as foolish as she was in mistaking you for a criminal, her heart was in the right place. If your grandmother had truly needed assistance, you would’ve appreciated her help.”
The boy nods. “You’re right. I guess she did a good deed, didn’t she, Gram?” He places his arm around his grandmother’s shoulders.
Marie beams at her grandson and then at Cade. “Young man, I guess you’re right, but I wish you were here instead. You seem to have a good head on your shoulders and wouldn’t make such bad judgment calls.”
What a crock. Like Cade needs a bigger ego. I’m not sure how he fits his head through the door as it is.
“Well, thank you, Ma’am. I’m glad I could be of help.” He smiles, and my heart skips a beat. And another. I’ve never seen him smile. He was dangerous to my libido as it was, without knowing he had dimples.
In a matter of moments, he’s channeled a drill sergeant, a good ole Southern boy, and finally, a drop-dead gorgeous heartthrob. It should be illegal. He should be illegal. No one should have rock-hard abs and dimples. God shouldn’t be cruel to mere mortals.
As much as I hate it, I must thank him for keeping me out of the headlines and from the back of a squad car. And beg him not to tell Mr. Truman about the incident.
Chapter Three
Lola
So much for my plan to thank the man, the boy and his grandmother were so happy with how Cade treated them, there were hugs and handshakes. But when I tried to show my appreciation, he’d cut me off.
I’ve got to try again. I inhale and straighten my back. “Thank you for stepping in. I appreciate it.”
“I didn’t do this for you. Or for them.” His shoulders are tight, and deep lines etch his forehead as we climb the steps side-by-side. Even though we’re together, it feels like there is a giant cavern between us. As with every other dictator in my life, he makes me feel three inches tall.
His jaw ticks, and I cough. “Whatever your reason. Thank you again. I was only trying to help, and things managed to get a little out of hand.” I navigate the steps barefooted, my shoes dangling in my hand.
“Like I said. I didn’t do this to keep you out of trouble or to help you out of whatever bullshit you’d managed to get yourself into. We don’t need that kind of publicity. The next thing you know, you would’ve been arrested for assault. How would that have looked on the news?”
When we stop on the platform in front of the entryway, I raise my hands, palms outward. “I get it. It wouldn’t have been good for business.”
“And if they’d connected you to your father, that would’ve made it an even bigger disaster.”
“Leave my father out of this.” I shudder. “I said I was sorry but I can’t change what I did.” I straighten my shoulders as if puppet strings are pulling me upward. “And I would do the same thing again. If someone’s in danger, it’s my civic duty to protect them. I’m glad it turned out she didn’t need help, but it looked like she did. I want to help people–that’s why I’m here.”
Moving out of my father’s home isn’t enough. It’s time to stand up for what I believe in and not let people control me. I frown. “Why do you work at a security company if you don’t like helping people?”
He swipes his card through the scanner and steps inside, grabbing my gym bag and purse off the floor while waiting for me to re-scan. Once inside the doorway, I reclaim my gear being careful not to touch him.
“You have this Pollyanna view of the world. People can’t run all over the place, rescuing stray kittens out of trees, helping old people cross the street, and making citizen arrests. If you want to do that, become a crossing guard.” Cade shows his ID card to the security officer.
As we stand in the airlock, the slim, balding man scrutinizes our photo IDs from behind bulletproof glass. Once he’s verified who we are, he winks. “Lola, sweet takedown out there this morning.”
I smile as heat fills my face. “Thanks, Pete. I thought the guy was trying to steal the woman’s purse.” I sigh, “How was I to know he was her grandson?”
“I saw it from the monitor. He did look a little scruffy. I’ll never understand why young men want to wear sagging pants that show their drawers. Back in my day, you wouldn’t get caught dead with your underpants showing without fear of getting your backside tanned.”
As Pete chats, we take turns scanning our handprints and entering our security clearance codes. The light flashes green. He hits the button, and the door pops open. “I don’t understand it either.” I tilt my head to the side and study Pete. “By the way, how were the grandkids’ soccer games this weekend?”
My father always underestimated the people doing what he considered ‘lowly’ jobs, but I’m not like him. Without them, the whole place would grind to a screeching halt, and Pete’s the biggest sweetheart.