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Sighing because I knew that, for now, this was a stopgap, that they’d soon return to try and bully information out of me, I opened the diary. There were several appointments, but one made my eyebrows rise. James Washington had an appointment with Dylan this afternoon for an hour. It was written in Dylan’s handwriting, which meant he’d booked it himself.
I did schedule their meetings on their computerised calendars, but I kept a paper copy for myself. A laptop can crash, and this way, we had backups. Plus, we didn’t risk people arriving without us knowing it in the event of a glitch.
And speaking of crashing, Casey arrived.
He was the most notorious of Hawthorne’s men for breaking his computer equipment. Despite Dylan’s repeated threats, Casey remained surrounded by broken electrical shit. It infuriated Casey and Dylan to no end, but it was true, Casey was an electronic Jonah.
“Morning, babe, you got anything for me?” Casey asked, approaching his pigeonhole.
“A few messages. I placed them in your pigeonhole. The main one is Mr Lucas has called three times saying it’s a matter of urgency,” I replied.
“Lucas is becoming the bane of my life. I’ll deal with him,” Casey said as my phone rang.
I picked it up, rolled my eyes, and placed the caller on hold.
“Mr Lucas,” I announced, and Casey groaned.
“Put it through to my phone?” Casey asked as he grabbed his coffee and headed towards his office.
I was smiling when he disappeared through the door.
Casey wasn’t wrong. Mr Lucas was a dog with a bone. It was a fairly simple case. Or so I’d thought at first. Mr Lucas owned a jeweller, which had been robbed, but Casey was digging up evidence Mr Lucas’s son was involved, and Mr Lucas didn’t like that at all.
I left Casey to it and began preparing the time sheets for the men for this week. They’d already dropped the last weeks’ off in my own tray, so it was merely a matter of adding their time to payroll.
One by one, the rest of the guys came wandering in, apart from Arturo and Kele, who were out on a job. And as time ticked past, half of them disappeared for their current jobs. London was on his way out when he stopped by my desk.
“Dana?” he said.
I looked up and smiled at him.
“Just be careful, baby girl. I know you want happiness, but make sure Ezra deserves you. If he doesn’t, then walk away. Because only a real man could cherish you as you deserve,” London spoke softly.
Tears welled in my eyes, and I sniffed. “Thank you,” I muttered, and London offered me a wink before marching his fine ass out the door.
It was rather funny how I worked in an office surrounded by gorgeous, hot, sexy alpha men. Yet none of them had ever appealed to me. I was more like their little sister. They certainly treated me as such. It was sweet. They never forgot my birthday or failed to bring me Christmas gifts, but none of them liked the thought of me as a woman with needs.
Ezra acknowledged me as a woman with desires. A shiver of joy ran down my spine as I realised that Ezra really saw who I was.
Shy and timid but strong when I need to be; I wasn’t frightened of my own shadow, despite the impression I give off. But I am wary around strangers and quite capable of defending myself and those I love.
Several hours passed as I got down to work with the diligence Dylan expected from me. I was caught up in filing a few reports when the door opened, and then Arturo and Kele walked in, dragging a man behind them.
“Help me!” he spluttered when he spied me.
I eyed him distastefully. The guy was James Jackson, a vile piece of shit who’d run out on his family. His now ex-wife had taken him to court and received a generous award of child support. Only, Jackson refused to pay it, and despite being repeatedly told by the courts to do so, he’d managed to avoid payments. Finally, after being ordered to attend court, the slimy fucker did a bunk and ended up with a bounty on his head.
The fact he also assaulted the judge at their own home didn’t help matters. Irate, the judge had boosted the award for his capture very generously.
It didn’t make sense to bring him here. Arturo and Kele should have taken him straight to the police station. But whatever.
“Are there cells available?” Arturo asked, shaking Jackson like a dog with a bone.
“Yes. Nobody’s booked into them. Is the police station shut?” I questioned.
“No. Kele wants a nice, friendly word with Mr Jackson about paying his child support on time.”
Ah, I guessed that Mr Jackson was about to meet Kele’s thunder fists. The man packed quite a punch. I walked to my desk and, pulled out a book, and began writing the details of the bounty down and who’d brought him in.
